Fuck You WordPress

Stress And Frustration

You cocksucking piece of shit platform.  I save a draft and you tell me “the action can’t be performed at this time.”  I lost everything I wrote over the last two hours.  Why do I constantly have to save my work in a word document to ensure I don’t lose everything I wrote when I click save? You’re a piece of shit Matt Mullwenberg, choke on a bullet.

I can hardly think straight while writing this post.  My anger and anxiety coupled with the fact I’m incredibly tired makes this all the more uncomfortable.  I want my post back.  I want to be able to re-read it, edit it and post it as I had originally intended.  I don’t want to write it all over again.

I feel like I will explode thinking about this.  The thought of trying to remember what I wrote in order to rewrite the post makes me uncomfortable to the point that I want to shout and cry.  I want to break my computer, tell everyone how unfair it is, disparage WordPress and go to sleep.  I feel drunk with rage.  FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!

I’ve been pissed about losing my work for hours now.  I’ve spent more time pining over losing the post and looking for ways to recover what I lost than I have trying to write a new post.  My post was well written and powerful; something people should read.  Possibly a literary masterpiece.  Well maybe not quite that good.

That’s the problem with life.  Its easier to brood and complain about what happened than it is to change it.  Taking action and making changes takes conscious effort.

My life parallels this episode.  I fight accepting what’s happened in my life.  I try to reclaim what I feel I lost:  Relationships, businesses, my identity, my size.  The list goes on ad nauseam.

I’m nostalgic.  I love going into my past.  I look for anyway possible to get back what I’ve lost instead of putting in the effort to start something new and moving forward.  Even when I know there is something better for me out there.  I’m like a child who needs to keep all of his toys, including the ones he no longer plays with.

I backtrack and try to reclaim old relationships.  I look for ways to rekindle a spark when we have proven we can’t coexist numerous times.  We can’t be happy because life throws a curve ball into our plans and we never quite recover.  We don’t put the time and effort necessary to be a happy, healthy couple.  We never work through our wreckage and heal the wounds of the past.  We only rush back into each others arms in order to quell the pain of loneliness and the of being alone.

I debate going back on steroids all the time.  I walked on the boardwalk today and looked around thinking about the looks I used to get when I was more muscular.  People would stare and make comments to me about how I looked.  Someone would always make the obnoxious comment, which they thought was hilarious, “You need to workout more pal.”  I used to complain how I hated the attention.  But obviously I didn’t hate it that much If I’m missing it today.  Regardless of the issues steroids have caused in my life I still want to use them again.

My past business venture was very lucrative.  It allowed to me have an inordinate amount of free time to spend however I chose .  I was able to travel, buy anything I wanted without thinking and I never had to work very hard.  I also had many sleepless nights, visits from various three-letter authorities and had to lie to most people about my career.  Still, I miss those days and often consider going back into that business.  I have to work hard now to make in a year what I used to make in 2-3 months.  But I no longer have to worry about going to jail.  So there are obvious trade-offs.

So why do I stray from my present and do whatever I can to get back what was lost?  Fear, comfort and laziness are the main reasons.  I’d rather deal with The evil I know versus the evil I don’t know.  It takes a lot of time and hard work to create something new.  I’m impatient and want my life to be how I remember it.  Quite often I don’t have an accurate recollection and romanticizing my past.

You can’t always recover what you’ve lost.  Sometimes you need to make a decision whether to dwell over what no longer exists or make something new.  Life is constantly changing and having to rebuild and recreate is a big part of it.   Starting from scratch is overwhelming and seems impossible at times.  However, it’s a necessity in life.  Take what you have learned, let go of the past, move on and start new.

Pass The Tissues For A Little DVDA


I hadn’t finished cuming yet, but all I could think about was clicking the X on the browser.  Remorse set in.  The feeling of disgust overwhelmed my body.  I wanted it to stop.  Why did I watch that?  And more importantly how did that turn me on?

I’m not certain what makes me watch the things I do when I masturbate.  Maybe I’m a sick pervert.  That’s entirely possible.  Most women I have dated would probably agree.

Like most of the world I have become desensitized to much of what I see.  Porn is no different.  I’ve watched too much for too long I suppose.  The basic vanilla scene just won’t cut it.  Hell, double-stuffed anal won’t cut it these days.

I’m always pushing the limits of what I consider to be appealing.  I can’t get hard if I’m not looking at something I find completely revolting as soon as I finish.  It’s a strange phenomenon.

Trying to watch the rest of the scene once I’ve finished is torture.  I sit there trying to figure out exactly what turned me on about an 87 year old lady going down on an a midget and a rough-around-the-edges 21 year old girl.  Or why I googled “gross porn” to begin with.

Watching all of these horrible, disturbing scenes has nearly ruined my sex life.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to partake in type of stuff I watch, at least not all of it.  But normal sex with an attractive girl isn’t quite as exciting once you have witnessed what my eyes have seen.  I have to close my eyes and picture some deviant sex acts so I can finish.  I don’t want the girl to feel like something is wrong with her because I can’t cum.

I’m not blaming porn for my problems.  It’s absolutely me.  I’ve always been the type that has to push things further and further to see what happens.  Sometimes my inclination to push things to the limit has benefited my life greatly.  Not in this case though.

Occasionally I stop masturbating all together.  Mainly because I’m bored with what I’ve seen and I don’t want to explore new realms of porn.  I can’t handle it.  Finding something new that turns me on is exhausting work.  I can spend 30-45 minutes perusing different categories until I find something that works.  That’s before I even start on myself.  No one wants to put that much effort into masturbation.  I don’t put that much effort into preparing my food for the day and I love eating.

I’m debating starting a support group for this behavior.  There’s probably already something in place, but I want my group to be more fun.  I’ve talked to some friends who seem to share my predilection for masturbating to sex acts that make them question their life.  At least I’m not alone, that’s comforting.  There might be a recovery for us all and we can go back to being excited with basic guy-on-girl action.



Do Numbers Matter?


I used to keep a list of all the girls I slept with.  I cherished my list.  It was kept tucked away in a safe spot for my eyes only.  It was comprised of mostly first names, nicknames or the location we had sex.  Very few full names appeared on the list.  I rarely knew the person long enough to find out her last name.  Or I didn’t care enough to ask, one of the two.

When I was 27 I moved in with my girlfriend and destroyed the list.  It was the first time I had ever lived with someone I dated and getting rid of it seemed appropriate.  I won’t get into how many names were on the list, but it was enough to make most people judge me.

Keeping a list was incredibly immature.  It’s how I kept tally of how “manly” I was.  I would joke and brag about it to my friends.  It was essentially my way of having a dick measuring contest, without the embarrassment of having to measure my dick.

To this day, I find myself counting the number of girls I slept with in a given time frame.  I keep a mental list and use it to validate myself that I still have “it.”  Whatever “it” is.

After my break up all I wanted to do what get laid to prove that I still could.  I needed to show the world I was back and I was desirable.  Women wanted to sleep with me God damn it!  It felt like a right of passage as a man.

In February I broke out of my brooding slump and found myself attracting women pretty easily.  I got on a roll and was knocking them down one after the other.  I was on a heater!  It was as if my penis was struck by lightning and women could feel the electricity.  That’s probably a bad analogy, but my dating and sex life were on a meteoric rise. (more…)

What’s Attractive?


Have you ever looked at a couple and wondered, “do they really find each other attractive?”  It seems like a judgmental, shallow and pretentious thought, but it goes through my mind constantly.

I saw a couple in the gym today that I found incredibly unattractive.  He’s a bit goofy, wears bad glasses and has a hair cut and facial hair from the 80’s.  He’s in decent shape though.  She is the real life equivalent of broomhilda.   She has stick legs and a protruding gut, which makes it hard to discern where the gut stops and the boobs start.  her stringy brown hair accentuates her bumpy, hook nose.  She appears to be 8-15 years older than him if I had to guess.  Although she may just appear older because of how haggard she looks.

I wonder how they met.  Did someone match them up together?  How does that conversation go?  “Look I have this person you need to meet you will love him/her.”  What does that say about that persons perception of these two?  Am I just an asshole for thinking about all this?

I watch this couple work out together in the gym at least once a week.  Occasionally I talk to the boyfriend.  He’s a super nice guy.  Work’s at a grocery store and likes to compete in powerlifting events.  If these two make each other happy, I’m happy for them. I’m just curious about the attraction.

When they look at each other do they see beauty or do they see companionship?  Is there a physical attraction or are they settling in order to have a partner to share their time with.  I have friends who I know for a fact wanted to get married and have a family so badly they settled for someone when they could have done better.  They were tired of being single and didn’t want to play the dating game anymore.  It’s not a new or rare story. (more…)

Keep On Swiping

ILLUSTRATION - Auf einem Smartphone ist am 18.02.2014 in Stuttgart (Baden-Württemberg) das Logo der App Tinder zu sehen. Photo by: Franziska Kraufmann/picture-alliance/dpa/AP Images

I was sweating and my thumbs were aching.  I couldn’t stop swiping.  It was like a horrible addiction.  I couldn’t kick that dirty bitch Tinder.  I kept telling myself to close the app.  But then I had to see who would pop up next; maybe she would be the one I needed to swipe right for.

Dating has become game.  I mean that literally not figuratively.  Swiping left or right decides the fate of who you may or may not date.  I started making games to see how many times I could swipe left before I would shut the app.  Or I would tell myself That I had to swipe right at least once for every ten girls profiles I saw.

Tinder became more about how many people I matched with rather than who the person was.  I never read their profiles.  I only based my decisions off of their pictures and physical attraction. (more…)

I Need to Dry Out


My body and mind feel like mush.   I’m mentally and physically drained.  I think I may be getting an ulcer again.  But I’ve been having the best times.

That’s the crossroads of my life right now.  At 35, finding the work hard/play hard balance is an onerous experiment.  Moderation is not my best virtue.  I walk a very fine line between no play and overindulgence.  It’s a constant battle of checks and balances.

Summer time in Philly means pool parties, the shore and multitude of social events.  The spring and summer are my favorite times of the year.  Once it starts getting cold my Seasonal Affect Disorder kicks in and I want to hibernate.

I’ve been investing my time going out, being social and meeting new people. I have become more of an introvert over the past couple years.  Being comfortable allowing others into my life and growing my social circle is important to me.

However, I’m starting to tip the line of being a bad adult.  At times I am completely irresponsible.   For instance, last weekend I had planned to stay in Friday night.  I was relaxing on my couch trying to fall asleep when a friend texted me and asked me meet him for a cheesesteak.  It sounded completely innocuous so I obliged.  Next thing I knew it was 7 AM and I was pulling back up to my house. (more…)

The Greatest Drinking Game On Earth

“Just swipe right as fast as you can for a minute straight.”  These were the directions my friend gave me as we embarked upon the most fun 15 minutes I’ve had in a long time.

A few months ago my friend and I got drunk at a Mexican restaurant and she introduced me to my first  drinking game using Tinder.  The rules are simple: Open the app and swipe right for one minute as fast as humanly possible.  Whoever matches with the most people during that round is the winner.  The loser of the round must drink one second for every person the winner matched with (i.e. 15 matches, drink 15 seconds).  Pretty simple right?

After three rounds of swiping right the fun part of the game starts.  By then each player should have at least 15-20 matches.  The final challenge is to get one of the people you matched with to send you a picture of their boobs or genitals.  This is where the game usually devolves pretty quickly.  The lowest common denominator came out quickly for me. (more…)

Sometimes You Gotta Clean the Pipes

pipe-cleaningAs soon as I came everything was so much clearer.

All day I moped around and struggled to deal with my feelings.   My body felt like it was shutting down from all the partying these past few weekends.  I couldn’t think straight.  I went back and forth in my mind hemming and hawing over decisions I wasn’t ready to make.

I made a trip to Baltimore this weekend to attend a friend’s birthday dinner.   I used that as an excuse to text my ex-girlfriend and ask her if we could get a drink and talk.  She told me she wasn’t sure.  Then immediately said she would meet me.

Now I know damn well this wasn’t the best idea.  But I wanted to do it, so I did.  It wasn’t a horrible experience.  I hadn’t seen her for the better part of six months.  Feelings came back that I was pretty sure weren’t there anymore.  My anxiety and inability to stay present rose to incredibly high levels.

I tried writing today with very little success.  I managed to jot down a couple sloppy paragraphs.  But, my mind was being hi-jacked by my thoughts.

To get my mind off of things I made plans with a girl I see occasionally.  She was supposed to come over at 8 PM to hang out and have sex.  I received a text around 5:45 with her excuse of why she couldn’t make it.  She prefaced the text with, “please don’t hate me.”  This made me hate her a little bit more.

She wants to be my girlfriend, that’s the real problem.  I feel bad because she’s a good girl that deserves a good guy who wants to be with her.  I know I should cut this off before it ends poorly.  I also know that sometimes I want to be selfish.

I was annoyed and horny.  I hadn’t masturbated in over a week.  With my booty call flaking on me I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.  I went to work and It was glorious.  As I finished I asked myself why I don’t make time to do this more often anymore.

Two minutes after I finished it was like a cleaning service went to work on my mind.  All the clutter was removed and I could suddenly see things more clearly.  I realized I need to make clear cut decisions about what I want and go after it in a direct manner.  I need to be confident enough in myself to know that I can make it through whatever happens and stay on my path.  That’s more important to me than the actual outcome.

A friend once told me years ago that before I make a rash decision, masturbate first.  If I still want to do it afterwards, go for it.  That’s some pretty sound advice.

I’m A Scooter

Seen on the Avenida Do Mar, Madeira Island

In college my friend once told me, “Dude you’re a scooter.”

“What the fuck does that mean,” I asked.  His reply was life changing.

“You’re a scooter!  Ya know.  Scooters are fun to ride, but you don’t wanna  see your friends while you’re ridin’ one.  Chicks will sleep with you, then vehemently deny it when they’re around their friends.”

His analogy was genius.  I really was a scooter.   Girls would talk about how disgusting and scummy I was when they were around their friends.  Some of them would even say it right in front of me.  Then when the the night was winding down and the bars were closing they would be sneaking me into their house so their friends wouldn’t see us.

In my last year of college I made a career out of being a scooter.   I had just gotten out of a rocky, three year, off again on again relationship.  It had rocked my confidence and shaken my self esteem.  But there I was, free to run wild.  I attempted to sleep with almost any girl who crossed my path.  I wasn’t very selective.  I just needed to feel wanted and attractive.

After awhile I started gaining my confidence back.  I was pulling a new girl every couple of nights.  I was thrilled to be single.  Life had meaning again.  That meaning wasn’t incredibly altruistic or noble, but it worked for me at the time.  I understood my role as a scooter and I played it very well to my benefit.

Fast Forward 12 years and I find myself in a similar position.  I am once again single after a break up from a tumultuous relationship.   It took me a couple of months to figure out how to deal with being single again.  Not only have I regained confidence in myself, but I love being single right now.  I haven’t enjoyed my life this much, well, possibly ever.

This time around, I have transitioned out of being a scooter and have become an “In-betweener.”  I fill space in the lives of women who may have recently gotten out of long term relationships or are just looking for something casual.  I occupy their time until they are back on their feet and ready to meet someone more suitable to have a real relationship with.

That’s the reality of my dating life .  It’s perfect for me right now.  I couldn’t ask for much more.  I love being an In-betweener; just like I loved being a scooter.

I enjoy all the benefits of being single.  I can focus on growing my professional life and I have the ability to do whatever I please with my free time.  But, once and awhile I am able to spend my free time with the company of someone of the opposite sex.  We go to eat, grab some drinks, get our dogs together, have sex or sometimes even cuddle.  I’m able to experience all the great parts of a relationship without having to actually be involved with any one person.

When I meet a women I am very upfront with them that I am In-betweener.  I explain to them that these are relationships of convenience.  I have nothing to offer them except a good time.  We both need to go about our lives, see whoever else we want to see and do whatever it is that makes our hearts content.  Then, once a week or so, we can hang out together and enjoy each others company.

Sometimes this talk  doesn’t go over well.  But, like with business, I think it’s important to set appropriate expectations with any relationship in order to mitigate any confusion, disappointment or animosity.  I would rather have a women tell me she is not interested in the situation from the gate rather than deal with drama and craziness on the back end.

The only down side to being an In-betweener is that occasionally, even though expectations are set correctly and all parties agreed to the terms,  someone decides they are going to try and change you.  These are the “Hopefools.”

The Hopefools meet you and hear what you have to say but in their head they think, “Not Me, I’m different.”  Sometimes they can be extremely tricky to spot in the beginning.  They play the game so well.  Everyone starts out feeling really good about themselves and the situation.  Then after a couple weeks of it everything changes.

Hopefools will start off with the first thing in the morning texts of  “Good morning, I hope you have a great day.”  This is usually the beginning of the end.  It will quickly progress to a daily ritual.  Then they will start asking questions about the other people you are spending time with.  This is where you must make a decision about where you need this relationship to go.

The Hopefool has their mind set that you are going to be in a committed relationship with them.  You have become a challenge and they have thrown down the gauntlet.  If you continue along the path of this relationship ignoring the signs and think just because you explained you are an In-betweener that you are free from issues, I assure you my friend you are dead wrong.  The upfront expectations you set have been completely disregarded.  The Hopefool could give a shit less about what you said, because they feel deep down they are different and they are one to change you.

If you want to stay a drama free In-betweener you need to cut ties immediately.  It’s not always that easy to do.  The Hopefool tends to be extremely fun, endearing and is usually the one who’s down for anything in the bedroom.  It was all part of their plan!  They put on their A Game in order to leave you woozy and susceptible to their trap.  It’s sort of the way the Black Widow lures in her mate only to kill and eat him afterwards.

This is the dichtomy of being an In-betweener.  You have everything you want in the world, but you realize at some point it has to end or you wind up in a relationship again.  Which is is the death of the wonderful world you have created.  You will no longer be able to spend your free time as you choose.  It could even start effecting your work life.

Being a successful In-betweener can be extremely rewarding.  However, success in this game means making difficult choices.  You have to be able to balance treating people you date in a respectful and caring manner, but not so much that they want to date you.  You have to know how to appropriately distance yourself from situations while remaining honest to yourself and those involved with you.  I think Kenny Rogers summed it up best when he sang, “You gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.

How I Sabotaged my day

Sabotage (1)

Waking up a bit hungover, after only getting four hours of sleep, wasn’t the best start to my Monday.  Sunday had been a good night.  Lots of laughs, a couple drinks, good company and it ended with the best blow job I have gotten in years.  All and all not a bad night.

I rolled around in bed for a good hour trying to fall back asleep before I made the executive decision to get up.  I had no plan for my day.  No goals or to do list.  I knew I needed to workout, take my dog to the park, read and write.  But I was shooting in the dark without any real structure.

I ate breakfast and tried to write for an hour before I went to gym.  I was quickly thrown off course when I checked the price of gold and saw it had skyrocketed.  I invest in some ETF’s based off of golds movement.  I checked my Sharebuilder account to see how much I had lost on paper.  Then I rechecked my account every two minutes for the next hour.  My OCD got the best of me.

Once I pulled myself out of obsessing over lost money I tried to write again.  I stared at my computer screen for about 5 minutes and decided to hit them gym.  I had already wasted most of my morning and was antsy to get moving.  Although my workout was subpar, I was happy I took care of one item on my mental check list.

Then came the texts!  One after the next from friends of mine complaining about issues they’re having in their lives.  Being the amazing, problem solving, self-indulgent friend that I am, I quickly doled out advice I knew none of them would follow.  Once again proving that I am the center of my own little universe and people need me to survive.

Then I had the nerve to get annoyed with my friends because they kept texting me for hours.  I could have stopped replying.  I even went as far as to text other people and tell them my day had the life drained out of it from everyone complaining to me about their lives.  Hypocrisy at its finest.

After I ate dinner I started reading.  I kept thinking about how much more I should have accomplished earlier in the day.  That thought process ate up more of my time wasting energy focusing on the past and what I should have done than actually reading.

By the time I got around to writing it was late.  I was already half checked out.  I started making a post, but I couldn’t get any traction.  So I moved to the next logical step.  I went on Facebook made a post babbling about the riots in Baltimore and called it a night.

This is how easily I can sabotage my day when I have no structure and my mind isn’t primed first thing in the morning.  I can waste 24 hours getting as little possible as done.  All while giving myself enough excuses not hate myself too much for flushing a day down the toilet.