RJM on eBaums World

[Blog] The Missing Candidate.

Wed, 30 Nov 2011 19:28:38 -0500

Added: 2011-11-30 19:28:38
Time and time again, America has failed to deliver the candidate the American people are truly looking for. So what are the characteristics that is missing from the lineup that no one candidate wholly embraces?

Let's look at the GOP and what they've produced in the past:

The last great GOP candidate cited is usually Ronald Reagan. He was absolutely bulletproof. Attacks to him were shed like water off a ducks back. He single-handedly defined the party for the next several decades. He was instrumental in the dismantling of communism, the uniting of Germany, and transforming the Soviet Union into an ally.

Another notable conservative was Abraham Lincoln, the founder of the Republican party. He led a divided nation during it's darkest hour, and ended slavery. Despite being at war with the southern states, he respected his enemies, knowing full well that to get things done, you have to have the grace to make your enemies respect your character.

Dwight D. Eisenhower, on the other hand, led the nation in it's greatest heyday. After World War 2, he built the interstate highway system, an example of government spending the right way. The highway system essentially paid for itself by opening up commerce between cities that didn't exist before, bringing wealth to the people, and revenue to the government.

George Washington was nearly named the monarch of America. He declined and instead set the stage for America to be a democracy of limited government and liberty. If it wasn't for him, democracy as we know it today would have been set back centuries.

Like Washington, Thomas Jefferson completely reshaped the country. Starting with his Declaration of Independence, he ended the colonies' ties to the King, and set forth a new government. During those heated first decades, many of the ideas he had are the beliefs that define what conservatives are wishing to "conserve" today. Interestingly, the conservative values today were then labeled progressive, and the ideas he fought so hard against are now called progressive.

What did these men have that is missing in today's leaders? Here is the model candidate I wish I would see surface:

1. Lead. Whole books can and have been written on leadership, but I'll define it in one sentence as it relates to what is missing in today's GOP, and in American politics in whole. To be a leader, you have to lead all people. You cannot insult your opposition, because if you want to get things done, you have to understand their take as well. Be everyone's leader.

2. Be Authentic. Nothing makes me roll my eyes more when a GOP candidate declares themselves the "Reagan conservative".� Reagan didn't cite himself as the Eisenhower conservative. He was Reagan, and he took his inspiration from all the great leaders and developed his own eclectic identity.

3. Be Principled. If you didn't live your entire life by your principles, don't run. If you made flaws in your past, put them on the table before you are in the spotlight and fess up to being flawed. People can relate to that. Make every move you make predictable by someone that knows your principles. Even in private.

4. Military Background. If you would put your life on the line for the love of your country, no matter what your political persuasion is, you've demonstrated that you will sacrifice your own welfare for those of your fellow citizen.

5. Communicate. Reagan was dubbed The Communicator. When he spoke, he came across as though he was inserting his own ideas in your head. He gave you the pride for those ideas as though it were your own. He connected through communication. This is vital. If people don't believe in your ideas and own them with you, they will turn on your ideas and turn on you, even if they are good ideas.

6. Humility. Never accept credit. Always give it.

7. Knowledge. Know enough about everything that when asked, you have something to say. And know more than enough, so when you have something to say, it's of substance.

8. Humor. It's a great weapon, and one that works just as well when it's pointed at yourself.

9. Listen. I can't state how important this is even in everyday life. When it comes to changing other people's decisions, if you claim to have the solutions, it's meaningless unless you're actually offering solutions to other people's problems. Many times I've talked to extremely stubborn liberal people, and actually got them to say "Yeah, maybe you're right" because I stopped, listened to what they said, and laid out exactly how I would solve that issue without needing more taxes, more regulation, or more social engineering, and laid out exactly why I would not use the liberal tactics.

10. Spiritual. Not religious, per se. By spiritual I mean humane, compassionate, and connected with humanity. Defend the people's rights to their own religion as though it were your own, and defend the rights of people they were granted with at birth, for no government can grant rights, but only take away the rights we were born with. By that nature, government is cold and inhumane, and to be the leader of that kind of power, you must know why that power should be limited. For humanity.

[Blog] Raise my taxes!

Wed, 28 Sep 2011 03:00:14 -0400

Added: 2011-09-28 03:00:14
In case you missed it, Doug Edward, a former Google start-up employee implored Obama to raise his taxes to solve the distribution of wealth in this country today at an event in L.A.

Here's the video.

Very noble of Mr. Edward to offer his sizable income to the poor and have-nots. But the more I though about it, does he really? I mean, if this guy truly cares about the poor, why does he need the government to distribute it? He HAS the money. He can donate it to whomever he likes. Why doesn't he?

If his taxes doubled, would he pay millions more in taxes? As he stated in the above video, he's unemployed by choice, and retired. He's now simply consuming his earnings, and could very well be siphoning off his income rather than reeling in the dough. Would he feel this way when he was actually working? Perhaps. But it matters little. He would not have the income to pay exorbitant taxes. It's far less noble than the articles are portraying him to be.

So better yet, why doesn't he invest it and employ people himself? Start a new venture, get a group of talented people, and make something valuable and profitable to society. Money does not spawn through society through distribution. It thrives through growth.

Mr. Edwards suffers from easy money guilt. He doesn't feel he earned his keep and doesn't deserve the money he has, and projects that all rich people are as he is. Not everyone that acquired wealth did so by simply being at the right place at the right time. (Edwards was hired as the 59th employee of Google.) People with easy money guilt often despise their wealth as Mr. Edwards does and doesn't see the true value in it.

Mr. Edwards needs to make MORE money and get RICHER. How would that help the economy? Many ways.

1. By investing, he's essentially taking his money (the haves) and giving it to people that can turn it into more, if only they could get funding (the have-nots), and best yet, everyone in the system made money, and stemmed more job creation because of it!

2. Donate his money to charitable causes. Why on earth is he feeling guilty? He lives in America. He can write checks to the needy at the stroke of a pen. No one is stopping him. Yet he speaks as though he's helpless to assist in the problems in the world because he's not taxed enough.

3. Fund grants and infrastructure directly. You cannot donate money to the federal reserve to be used for infrastructure and grants. The IRS will return the check. However, you CAN fund public projects and certainly can give grants to those that need them. There's no need to give the government $100,000,000 only to have $40,000,000 used to simply manage moving his money around. (I've managed several private projects where infrastructure improvements were required, and generally we build them for half the projected costs of the city while still meeting city specifications.)

I would be thrilled if Mr. Edwards paid no taxes at all, if he actually did some of these things. Mainly #1, because that's the one that is a gift that keeps on giving, forever. I wish people like him, and people that vote like him could see that wealthy people are the people that keep me employed, and are the ones that fund the people I employ, and I wish he'd start doing it to. Taxing their money taxes the funds that I am granted for projects that could be profitable. At worse, when a rich person banks their money, it's being used to fund someone's mortgage or a business loan. In case you haven't read the news in the last 4 years, the entire economic down turn was caused by a Credit Crisis. Taxing the rich takes money out of the banks, not rich people's pockets.

Maybe if Edwards starting acting like a wealthy man, and not a rich, spoiled, lost, brat, he could really do something to help the country.

[Blog] MonaNeko.

Sun, 04 Sep 2011 05:39:14 -0400

Added: 2011-09-04 05:39:14
I'm supposed to write a blog about it. So here goes.

Hi. I'm writing a blog.

And posting a picture.

If you want to see it, scroll down.

My name is Ryan Da Vinci.

I invented parachutes before airplanes.

And threw together some shitty paintings.

This needs to be 256 characters lon

[Blog] Chemistry.

Mon, 29 Aug 2011 22:28:19 -0400

Added: 2011-08-29 22:28:19
It's a very literal word, you know. It is the most slight of things that changes everything, yet so real are the effects that it makes us who we are. Sometimes bonds break, and sometimes they combine, but never without byproducts. Usually, that being a lot of heat.

Some people fear chemistry for that very reason. You can get burned, and sometimes two elements have unpredictable reactions. Ah, but this is where the real magic lies. You don't know what's going to happen, what you will learn, what you will see, or where it might take you. All you do know is that you're going to learn something profound.

Sure, take the precautions, but take a little risk, too. To do otherwise, -to simply seek equilibrium-, only results in decay; an endothermic lifespan with no release of energy, nothing to learn, no new colors, and no heat. Simply a process. Perhaps some mediocre change drawn out over time, nearly to the point of being unnoticed. Only when you look back will you have recognized the change, but never before your eyes. Never in the moment. Never as you live it. Almost as though never at all.

And then there is exothermic reactions, like a lifeform being made in a glass beaker for everyone to see. There is energy. There is fire. A little danger. Maybe a lot. But everyone notices the change, and turns to watch in awe. With every fiery flash of light, they observe and feel the energy, as though to take it in, and experience it by proxy. When it sparks, their eyes light up. When it burns, they want to feel the heat. And it when it fizzles, they do too.

You can't fake chemistry. When the elements are there, things light� up. Cook up something new every now and then. Figure out what ingredients you like, take a taste, and pour all you've got in. Turn up the heat, and let the reactions be as they may. Stop adding flour, and try a little baking soda. Heat things up. Watch the water boil. And don't ever be afraid of some interesting chemistry.

After all, chemistry is amazing, and it is everything in you.

[Blog] 2111

Thu, 18 Aug 2011 23:14:38 -0400

Added: 2011-08-18 23:14:38
My predictions for humanity, the Earth, technology, and porn in the next 100 years.

� The Information Age will end.

�The Information Age will culminate into all information being conveyed over a singular wireless media of multiple streams, all being processed for various uses on the fly. Stalking will be incredibly easy, thanks to a trend jointly started today by Facebook and me. Katie C. won't know what hit her.

Computational power will be less of a hindrance and the focus will drastically change to using it in meaningful ways. This is already well underway, such as dildo MP3 players. (Google that shit. No joke.)

Porn will probably take over sex for most people. (Edit: I think it already has.)

� The Transportation Age will begin.

Energy storage will be key to traveling around the globe will be far easier and it will not be uncommon for people to work in a country on another continent, albeit not for most. This energy storage will likely be a safe radioactive isotope harnessed like a chemical battery, or some as-yet undiscovered acid we'll find in Lindsey Lohan's urine samples.

Flying cars will not be common, but aircraft that are automated will be, and there will be a new category of aircraft between general aviation and personal vehicles that fly preset routes and cost within the realm of a common worker. They will be used for trips more than 50 miles or so.

Road cars will also be automated. Road Head will be far less exciting, and far more common.

� Medical Advancements

The human life expectancy will increase to 100 years, and the oldest living person will reach 150. Hugh Hefner will probably be that guy.

� China and Asia.

China will collapse politically, and emerge as a quasi-capitalist society, and then take over as the world's most powerful superpower in history. Then they will elect a guy from Kenya as President and it will all go to shit again.

� Arab World

The Arabs will shift into high technology and production. Oil will still be a major income in the middle East, but it will drop down to #2 or #3 for most Arab countries, with 97% of oil production being distributed by the world's largest oil company: KY.

Israel and Palestine will remain at odds for decades, and will only come to a resolution under a scenario where an Arab country goes to war with Israel on behalf of Palestine. Most likely only to occur during a European crisis of it's own. Like a gay flu plague emerging from France. Wear masks or Israelis will die!!!

� North America

America will not collapse, but will economically withdraw from the superpower that it is now as it reaches closer to a socialist state. It will be stable, but past it's prime, and not drastically wealthy, sorta like Fabio.

Mexico will have a civil revolution. The entire world will feel the effects, -or lack thereof- when beans cease to be exported for a year or two.

Canada will still be making syrup and paper. And gay people. And gay people covered in syrup and paper. (OMG that could be called Gay-Mach�! Copyright RJM 2011)

� War

A nuclear bomb will detonate in a crowded city, by a egocentric ruler, but will be delivered discretely, not dropped from a military aircraft. My guess is it will be from an African nation and detonate in Europe. SO hoping for France, but one could only be so lucky.

� Space

We will have a common space tourism industry and first-class space flights across the globe hundreds of times a day. The Mile-High Club will be an old joke. Man will visit the moon every day like they visit Paris Hilton's vagina. Mars will remain beyond the scope of casual tourism, but not by all. Basically, Mars is Anne Hathaway's vagina.

� Religion

Religion will still be a strong influence on a large portion of people, but nothing like the past or present. Less than 25% of the world will consider themselves to be religious, with the largest shift being in Muslims. Scientology will die off all in one fell swoop, exactly one day after KoolAid and Nike both have their best single-day in sales ever.

� Environment

The focus will shift from the air to land use. Farming will change drastically, and probably shift into indoor systems that rely more on man-made power (likely nuclear) rather than the sun in the western countries. Every basement-dwelling pot producer in America will be seen as a visionary.

The globe will be slightly warmer than today, but not by nearly what Al Gore says it will be.

Al Gore will still be showing slides from 2002 at junior college campuses anywhere that hasn't yet banned him.

� World Politics

A Socialist Party will emerge in the United States. The party's leader will be a Black Panther and former President.

Europe will have a major economic depression and China will gain from it. Europe will start talking Chinese and stop talking Europonese or whatever.

[Blog] Shit I did growing up.

Sat, 13 Aug 2011 20:47:12 -0400

Added: 2011-08-13 20:47:12
-I found a flesh-colored dildo lid for beer cans that lets you drink from the can by sucking the dick. I put it in my zipper and walked into the living room. ...While they had about a dozen guests over.

-I played doctor when I was 5. It went too far and we all got in big trouble. Details are not important.

-When I was 12, I was about 75 pounds and 5'-3". Yet somehow I managed to control a 250 pound ATV meant for trails through jumps and tricks that I would never attempt today.

-When I was about 4, my cousin and I started digging a tunnel to Sesame Street. After a lot of digging and a small hole in the hard ground, we decided it would be easier to walk there. Then we argued and fought about which way to walk to get there. We never did figure out how to get to Sesame Street.

-I hid in the bushes behind my house and scared the living shit out of my uncle. It was funny as hell but no one else thought so, seeing as he just got back from the hospital after his fourth heart attack.

-I used to give friends fake tattoos using india ink or Prismacolor markers. VERY real looking for a couple days. My cousin was kicked out of the house when her mom flipped the fuck out.

-I went streaking alone one night when I was 12. Just cuz I wanted to do something daring.

-I shot a squirrel in the eye with a BB gun. Felt kinda bad.

-On my 15th birthday I took on my first job. I painted signs for a local high school. I got $50 for each one. I did one a night and 6 on the weekends. My dad's work was slow, and for those 3 weeks I was the family bread winner. I spent a huge chunk of it on candy for girls at school, the rest went to a mutual fund that is still out there somewhere.

-I knew about sex when I was like 2 or 3. No storks and fairy tales. I think my parents regretted that before too long.

-I took a shot gun shell and taped a small rock to the charge end, and fins to the other end to make a sort of mortar shell. I'd throw it and run inside real fast before it went off. I never got it to go off though. I always kinda wanted to try that again.

-I gave more cheesy love letters to Anne Akeman than any man alive ever will, and I did it all between November in 1987 and June 1988.

-When I was 7, my dad and I went on a deep-sea fishing trip for 3 days. I got sick. I found a place to curl up and sleep and someone threw a jacket over me. I slept for hours. And for hours my dad couldn't find me on that little 30-foot fishing boat.

-I watched many large animals die with a fascination. It's amazing how much blood comes out of a cow's neck when it's hanging upside down. Slaughtering is a true art and far better than any TV show.

-I stuffed my clothes to look like a body and laid it on the floor in a suspicious way. I always had an eye for realism. Like how the shoes would lay to make it look "attached" to the leg, etc. I went to bed. I awoke in the morning to my mom's terrified screams, "OH MY GOD! RYAN!!!"

[Blog] EggOnlyEgg's fight for life.

Thu, 21 Jul 2011 06:19:35 -0400

Added: 2011-07-21 06:19:35
For those of you that have been on this site as long as I have, you all know EggOnlyEgg. At one time she was a mod, and she was a big contributor both to the featured videos, and the general camaraderie that I think sets ebaums apart from most (if not all) media sites across the internet.

A week ago today, EggO, as I always called her, was in a serious car accident, and remains in critical condition. No one can tell at this stage if she will live, but the family is betting on the chance she will and giving her arguably the best care in the nation for a person with injuries as serious as hers are. However, she has some serious odds against her, and if she does live, there is no doubt she will not be the person she was before Thursday's accident.

I am posting daily updates to her condition on a private facebook page. For those of you that consider her a friend and would like to keep updated, the link is www.facebook.com/groups/169573086445941

-Ryan

[Blog] Coldplay - Viva la Bleeda

Thu, 07 Jul 2011 18:42:25 -0400

Added: 2011-07-07 18:42:25
I used to drool for girls...
My pants would rise whenever she spoke a word,
And in the morning I'd have a bone,
Under the sheets I'd play trombone.

I used to play so nice,
Now they fear my felony ties.
Listen as the crowd would sing,
"Now the old man has fled! Go back to Redding!"

One minute I touched her wee,
Next the walls were closed in on me.
And I discovered that on that witness stand,
My lawyer was shit, ah fuck you man!

I hear on the news a reporter speaking,
"Roman Catholic priests are swinging,
Getting rear with alter boys concealed.
And the military is accepting queers."

For some reason I can't explain
Once you're in here, there's never,
Never a straight jail bird.
And that was when I became a girl.

It was the wicked and wild man,
Blew down my drawers, said "Let me in!"
Shattered man rose and the sound of grunts.
People couldn't believe what I'd become.

Reaming on my prostate,
With my head bent over this laundry crate.
Just a puppet on his manly thing.
Oh who would ever ask for fisting?

I hear on the news a reporter speaking,
"Roman Catholic priests are swinging,
Getting rear with alter boys concealed.
And the military is accepting queers."

For some reason I can't explain
Once you're in here, there's never,
Never a straight jail bird.
And that was when I became a girl.

[Blog] Memoirs of a Captive: Part 1.

Sat, 25 Jun 2011 04:58:44 -0400

Added: 2011-06-25 04:58:44
Day 1:

The last 24 hours have been the utmost unnerving to my spirit. Just a day ago, I was drafting vows for my dearest Filene, so anticipating a new life as the Prince of Labia. I have yet to visit the country I would be in line to rule, should the King succumb to an unexpected blow to the head, but from what I hear and have googled, Labia sounds to be very near paradise, although the scent can be somewhat of an acquired taste.

While making the short trip to the alter, I was ambushed. A heavy van broadsided my limo. My entire life flashed before my eyes as the slide collection my mother compiled of my entire life ruptured among the cabin before my eyes. Two things occurred to me at that moment: My mother was a horrible with a Minolta, and second, she was insistent on convincing the wedding guests that I spent my entire first decade butt-naked.

I had little time to perceive the severity of what occurred when consciousness slipped the bonds of my being. Darkness. Nothing.

I awoke here, in a cluttered and decidedly non feng-shui decorated room. I fathom hours had passed. Either the coarse horizontal light stinging my eyes was from the morning sun, or late evening, either of which I had no clue. I was naked and tied to bed post. My vision was blurry and I surmise that several ribs on my left side must have been broken. I heard a noise and quickly played unconscious.

A boyish figure entered the room. He was shirtless and unusually hairless. From what I could discern without fully opening my bruised and swollen eyes, I estimated him to be 12. He had a horrible haircut and the pungency of a ruptured can of Axe Body Spray dumped into a bucket of prepubescent pheromones. He sat facing a 1990's era 486 PC. It made a horrible ruckus, pinging, and buzzing, then finally a cheerful "You've got mail!". Good Lord, do people really still use dial-up AOL? What hell had I been cordoned to???

I remained motionless as he clicked his way through 30 button menus until he had found his digital destination. A tune chimed from the filthy speakers on the floor as his head bobbed and rocked to the wretched sound of girl's nasal chronicles of riding in the back seat with her friends. I knew at that moment, I must escape, for I could not survive in such conditions for very long. I fought the desire to scream. Then fought the desire to weep. By the fifth playing, I simply held my breath until all went black.

Peace at last.

Day 2:

My neck was stiff. With my hands tied behind me to the bed post, I spent the last unknowable hours sitting up, asleep. It was quiet. So unnervingly quiet. It seems as though I was the only conscious being in a mile. The only sound was my breath, and heart beat. I opened my only eye that I could open and lifted my head in agony. In the darkness, I got my best inventory of the surroundings since the crash.

The only light was from the monochrome tangerine glow of a sodium vapor street lamp perhaps 100 yards away, shining through the almost opaque dirty pane of a 10 inch by 20 inch window across the room. grass blades caressed the bottom portions. I was subterranean. The quarters were crammed with the toys of the boy that I suspect may still be in the room with me. I strained to focus.

There... On the nightstand/tiny used condom catch basin... A family photo! I blinked and squinted until my eyes could discern the identity of the boy that had me tied in this hell on Earth. Perhaps a full minute of straining I saw what appeared to be.... Justin Bieber? No... more mop than even him, and dare I say, a worse mop... No! It couldn't be! Then it all started to make sense. The 12-year-old body... the horrible room... the Axe Body Spray. Shirtless. Yes, it had to be...

Trizza. Fo sho.

When morning came, my fears were realized. Now, I wish I could tell you that I fought the good fight, and that Trizza let me be. I wish I could tell you that - but this bedroom is no fairy-tale world.

Tonight, I shall plan my escape before this place gets the best of me.

[Blog] Biting on a call for Immigration Reform.

Sun, 15 May 2011 02:39:17 -0400

Added: 2011-05-15 02:39:17
Although it's very unlikely there will be immigration reform before the 2012 election, the president is calling for lawmakers to start drafting a bill. Politically, it's a good move for him because if it's on the table during an election, he'll be able to get more votes from the minorities hoping to it will pass, and immigration reform is always a great talking point that democrats love to use to characterize republicans as "racist" and "fear-mongers". If an immigration bill were to pass (or fail) before the election, it would be a non-issue and he won't be able to use it was incentive to get reelected.

But I'll call your bluff Mr. Obama. We all seem to agree on one thing: Illegal immigration IS a real problem and does need to be addressed. So I'll take the bait and offer my solution.

Enforcement. There are many immigration laws on the books that are not enforced, whether due to funding, politics, or bureaucracy. Funding the INS and Border Patrol I'll leave to budget talks since that isn't really a part of "reform." Politics and bureaucracy, however, hinder the deportation process. When an illegal immigrant doesn't show up or make arrangements with the court, it shall be assumed he or she is guilty and a warrant issued for their arrest and deportation. These warrants shall be enforceable by any law-enforcement officer. Not just federal.

Businesses that knowingly hire illegals shall be punishable by jail. Not just a fine. Arrest some business owners and put that shit on the front page every few weeks. It needs to be a common occurrence.

Legal Immigration. It can take easily over a decade to become a citizen of the U.S. There is no reason for this. The State Department needs some major reforms here. If an applicant meets certain criteria, they shall be granted an expedited citizenship. For instance, if someone is licensed as an engineer, lawyer, or other professional by countries with boards of licensure recognized by the U.S. All current requirements still apply, i.e. criminal history and age limit, etc.

This part of the reform should be revised until it can take no more than 1 month for qualifying immigrants to get a visa and no more than 30 months to become a citizen.

State vs. Federal Enforcement. (A.K.A. Arizona's sb1070 conundrum.) Integrate the Border Patrol with certain bordering counties' police force. Certain officers would be qualified federal agents and their paychecks would be subsidized by the fed. They'd be trained as both police and border patrol agents and apply the laws of each just as they are applied now. This would also have the benefit of streamlining criminal cases involving local crimes committed illegal immigrants by reducing the need for inter-agency interaction. Their cars, badges, and IDs would reflect both local officers and federal agents.

International Relations. Mexico is fucked the hell up and it's quickly becoming worse. Drug lords are taking over entire cities along the border. Without impeding on Mexico's sovereignty, we need to assist Mexico in regaining control of their territory. Offer to equip and train their police and military for anti-drug cartel efforts. Make sure Mexico knows that their relations with the U.S. are contingent and not unconditional. There needs to be backlash of some sort for Mexico laissez-faire handling of the cartels and immigration problems. The white house needs to get tough with Mexico publicly.

[Blog] My night with naked women, a lesbian, and too many Gummy Bears.

Mon, 09 May 2011 00:30:49 -0400

Added: 2011-05-09 00:30:49
Last night my wife and I were invited to V.I.P. treatment to a couple of L.A. area strip clubs. Needless to say, taking your wife to a strip club for the first time is a tricky situation. But not in the way I anticipated.

The first club is in Long Beach, which is a topless-only bar. The owner, George, introduced us to the manager and informed him that anything we asked for would be on the house. So George orders us a round of Shots of Happiness, basically cough medicine, but with about three times the medicine. Now, I'm not much of a drinker, but my wife makes up for me, plus about 1/3 of my extended family. She's the kind of person that drinks until she can't lift her hand to her mouth. Or her head from the floor. Whichever come first.

We toast and George and I talk over the job, and various life stories while enjoying the entertainment. The wife, whom I shall refer herein as "The Drunk", watches in amusement and enjoys her drink. She drinks slowly, knowing her reputation with such chemicals could jeopardize the relations with the new client. Eventually she finishes her Happiness and orders a Gummy Bear, which tastes like gummy bears of all things.

I ask George intriguing questions about running a place like this, and he mentions one girl he says is his most entertaining employee. He says, "She's like an acrobat from Cirque Du Soliel! I'll show you. Let me put her on..." and passes a word to the D.J., tapping a blond girl on his way to the booth. During her routine at one point she "walks" inverted on a platform on the ceiling, supporting her weight on the bar out to her side. It looks like she's defying gravity. The Drunk is very impressed. After the set, she goes up the girl and congratulates her with smiles and compliments.

(Side note: She's unaware that I know about her lesbian leanings. She's been cheating on me with her friend "Sherry" for six weeks and has a bad habit of not deleting all her txt messages. Maybe I'll blog about that ordeal another time.)

George asks if we want to see the other club which we learn is a fully-nude establishment. I leave the decision to The Drunk. By now she's had two Gummy Bears and the Happiness, so she's somewhat reluctant, but agrees. He drives us there in a Prius, which I find somewhat amusing for a guy that makes what he makes, but knowing his roots I understand. (At one point he had $1 to his name and no place to sleep. He bought bread and made a phone call to his grandmother. It was Christmas Day, 1983.)

We arrive to the L.A. club and George introduces me as their new boss to the staff there. I joke back, "New 'bus' boy. Not 'boss' boy." One of the bouncers is a linebacker-looking black guy named "Hammer". Some time ago Nicolaus Cage came to the club in character for a film. He approached Hammer from behind and started grinding. Hammer thought is was one of the girls and started playing along until he felt a hard-on. Hammer ran into the men's room and locked himself in a stall until Cage left. Apparently Hammer is somewhat homophobic, and Cage is somewhat less so. I would have paid to see that.

While we were there I did see parts to girls my wife led me to believe never existed. One such healthy lady-part was worth a very healthy $260,000 a year, George tells me. The second highest-paid stripper "only" made $190,000 last year. After last night, I realize my views on strippers may be somewhat prejudiced by the media's portrayal. I feel ashamed for being one of the mindless masses that fell in the trap. I will forever admire the Women of the Uncloth and encourage my future daughters to pursue a less-than-glamorous career when they realize I wasted all their college money on Candii's lap dances.

After about an hour of watching spread-eagle axe wounds I came to the realization that even the best things in life can get boring. So did The Drunk, and after George was done taking care of various details, we returned to the Long Beach club. Immediately The Drunk orders another Gummy Bear and I have more cough medicine. She finishes her Gummy Bear, and then my cough medicine. She feels bad for drinking my drink so she gets another one. And finishes it too.

George is busier now so it's really just The Drunk and I taking in the entertainment, and chatting about various quirks in the patrons and staff there. She uses the restroom, and comes back talking about how nice and, well, "kinda flirty" the girls there are. She tells me she was talking to the Ukrainian girl, (probably named "Naughtia," but I forget now) and how they shared a beer. By now her lesbian side is starting to show.

She's making friends with the strippers and getting somewhat touchy-feely, often getting up and dancing with passing girls. At one point she slaps the ass of one girl she had been flirting with as she was walking by and the girls shakes it back. The Drunk grabs a hand full of her playboy-esque ass, and the stripper turns around, grabs her hands, and plants them firmly on her bikini-clad breasts. All this is illegal, of course, as patrons are not allowed to touch the strippers. The stripper comes behind The Drunk and starts feeling down and grabbing her chest. She's truly making some friends here.

By this point in the night, she's already had too many and is starting to slur her speech and get overly-excited. I know the night needs to end or I'll have a situation soon. Fortunately, the club closes in 15 minutes and the last call goes out. One of the girls comes up to us and asks us if we're going to the other club after this. I said no, she said "SURE!" with wide eyes and a big grin. I remind her the other club doesn't serve alcohol and then I see the gears turning...

"We can get some on the way!"

George asks me a minute later if we are going to the club. I tell him, "No, I think I need to take her home." He frowns, then raises the stakes.

"No... " in his Eastern-European trademark frown. "Why don't you go in the limo?"

FYI, the limo is the bus of sorts that takes all the strippers from the Long Beach club to the nude L.A. club. There were at least 10 girls in it already. I don't think there were enough seats so I know it would have been a very interesting seating arrangement to add the two of us. He drives a very hard bargain. I hesitated. The Drunk was still in happy mode, but I knew from experience she was one misunderstanding away from a fist fight with Hammer.

*Sigh* "No, she'll pass out soon and we have a 90 minute drive back home. Maybe next week"

Eventually I tell her "Let's go in our car," so she won't put up a fight. She's OK with that.� In the car I say, "Let's stop somewhere to eat." She agrees. 90 minutes later she wakes up in our driveway.

But that 5 minute limo ride sure would have been fun. =(

[Blog] Blog Section Changes

Thu, 14 Apr 2011 17:02:06 -0400

Added: 2011-04-14 17:02:06
I wanted to get a feel for what the greater blog community thought of these ideas. They are mine, so they are probably crap.

The biggest one in my eyes I will list first and is possibly going to happen:

1. Have an option to sort blogs in various ways:
�-By latest comment (vBulletin style)
�-By creation date
�-By view count
�-By rating
�-By most comments

2. Flagged media needs to have a back-end database that shows which user accounts are flagging media. If the same user is flagging good media, they lose the ability to flag any media, or are banned, or something to the like.

3.I understand there is going to be a featured blog page eventually. That's cool. I'd rather there be a table of say, 5 featured blogs on the FRONT PAGE, but you know... wutevs.

4. Edit: Nevermind. I guess wishes do come true!

5. Move the star rating under the title. Have a smaller star rating next to the name that shows the user's average rating (sans 0-rated blogs). It's not a big thing, but a frosting-on-top feature I think would be cool.

6. I'd like to have a close "x" icon next to the blog entries so it disappears off the list for that user so it doesn't take up space on page 1. Sort of like the "x" button on facebook.

7. A "Recent Blogs" list on the profile. Title and date only. Last 5 or so blogs.

8. Stupid Blog button. I don't know what it would do, but I'd like one on every blog. It should make a gratify sound, too. Like that sound a bowling ball makes when it slips from a bowlers fingers and pops No_U in the skull.

Back to Numero One for a moment; I used vBulletin at EBN (don't hate) and here. At first I hated it, and some things I still hate about it. Other things I dig. One thing I did like was how good threads stayed on top by bumping with comments. I've often written blogs here and happened to time it poorly because I'd write them late at night, and wake up in the morning and find that some asshat made 14 blogs that morning and my fucking epic blog about me finding the underlying theory unifying quantum physics and general relativity was knocked to page two by a blog about vagina cheese flavors. In a perfect world, my blog would at least stay on page 1 as we discussed the merits of my math among the more elite ebaums community long enough for me to be informed of my immense faggotry for forgetting to carry a 2.

I think ebaum's blog section is perhaps a diamond in the rough at ebaums. Among blog sites, it's probably one of the best out there, but ebaums is known for videos and not blogs. If word gets out, the blog section I think may take off to something quite a bit bigger.

I'm RJM and I'm a devout follower of DWYGF (Do Whatever You Gotta do to not be a Fuckbag) Church.

[Blog] ORINGINAL pranks you can do any day of the year.

Sun, 13 Feb 2011 17:03:08 -0500

Added: 2011-02-13 17:03:08
Here's a few that are not only original, they are pranks that I have actually done, plan to do, or are too scared shitless to even attempt:

1. Send a manila envelope with laser-printed return address to a friend that still lives with their parents. For the return address make a logo for an STD testing service, or if they are a girl, you can always go with Planned Parenthood.

Now you know why my cousin Ronda didn't live at home from March 1997- January 1998.

2. When your coworker has to take a day off for a vasectomy, be sure to celebrate upon his arrival with a token gift of Sno-Balls from the local Hostess bakery. Be sure to cross off the first "S".

Jim laughed and cried that day.

3. Ever been responsible for accepting delivery from UPS for a third party? Scan the packing slip and change the sender from whoever to AdamEve.com. Be sure to include a few lines of contents such as:

-Caucasian Model #1449-A
-Attachment #1449-G (10-inch with pleasure bumps) Qty: 1
-Passion Probe Model #322 (pink) Qty: 1
-Vibrating Cock&Balls Model #839-C Qty: 1
-12-amp replacement motor for Sybian Model #1223-12 Qty: 2

Poor Nancy. She was red for an hour. <3

4. Take some saran wrap and twist it up to approximate length of a snake. Dust it with spray adhesive and powder it with dust from outside. It doesn't look like much, but coil it up, and toss it. As it unwinds, it writhes and looks fucking scary.

Larry doesn't like snakes and for a 50-year old fat guy, screams like a 12-year old girl.

5. Speaking of fake snakes, best place is under the driver's side door for a realistic-looking diamondback. I love the ones that are coiled up and the head poking out... So much better than the dollar store variety.

Nancy jumped 3 feet in the air, and her arms flapped like she was trying to fly. Yes, the same Nancy.

6. Know a stoner? Call his house when he's not there and impersonate the DA's office on his voicemail. Tell him he's required to attend to court to face charges of possession or risk a warrant for his arrest. Give the number to the county court office. Make it two weeks in advance and don't tell him until the day before his court date that it was a prank.

Or if you're like me, forget to tell him and feel kinda bad that he went to court but laugh your ass off that he sweated for two weeks.

7. I'm crafty. I like to make things. I made a 4-inch roach using paper, markers, an exacto-knife, cellophane tape (for the glossy texture), and glue. Best place to hide it ever?

Back of the toilet paper roll. Poor, poor, poor Nancy. She hated me.

8. Black zip tie on the drive-shaft. Hard to see, but when you start driving, something sounds so horrendously wrong. Great for uncles with $70,000 sports cars from Germany.

Uncle Bill laughed when he found out and I had to work off the $300 to diagnose a transmission at a Mercedes dealership. =(

9. Chicken gizzards in electrical boxes. Great for shitty landlords that evict you. By day three... holy hell it's awful. And no one will ever find it!

10. Put a NAMBLA bumper sticker on your victim's car.

11. When you're friend is passed out drunk, empty a pack of condoms in his bed and leave a phone number and the name of the ugliest chick that was at the party that night on the pillow next to him. NEVER TELL HIM IT WAS A PRANK.

12. Find a picture of a really raunchy party on facebook. This might entail befriending a few gays. Look for one where someone is facing away from the camera or the face is obscured. Tag your most conservative friend.

P.S. For the record, I know I didn't sleep with Hilda and the handwriting gave away my friend Mike. I just wish I knew why I was *wearing* one of the condoms... =(

[Blog] A list of Everything in my Purse at This Moment.

Sat, 12 Feb 2011 05:44:26 -0500

Added: 2011-02-12 05:44:26
I like the idea of this blog because it might reveal a little of who we are. Sorry to steal your thunder, Froglips.

1. Visa debit card to an account I have about $3 in.
2. Business cards to people I haven't done business with since 2007.
3. A grocery list written on a Post-It, undated. One of the items I'm pretty sure is still in my fridge but doesn't look so hot.
4. A photo of a girl that used to look like the one in my bed.
5. A driver's licensed that expired 1-28-11.
6. Disneyland annual pass that expires in 4 days.
7. HOA photo ID with a picture of me when I had a beard and a really bad hair day.
8. Numerous gift cards to places I hate to eat or shop at.
9. Health Insurance card from when I could afford a nice PPO.
10. Memory card to a camera that broke in 2006.
11. Blood Donor Record card with one entry on 4-29-97. Blood type is B+ if you're wondering.
12. Shit list of 9 people. 3 names lined out.
13. Landfill dump card. 3 dates punched out.
14. Small printout of Strghtjcktgrl's ass, folded twice, in secret compartment behind the driver's license.
15. Key to a condo a few towns away. <3
16. Torn corner off paper that says "2-15-11 RESTRAINING ORDER ENDS."
17. Fortune Cookie slip saying "The best rewards come to those that wait. Lucky numbers: 2, 15, 11.
18. Phone number. No name.
19. Condom that expired during Bush's first term.
20. The wrapper to the condom that expired during Bush's first term.
21. Movie ticket to Titanic with Sara's gum in it. Someday, Sara...� You won't think I'm weird at all.....
22. 4-leafed clover in plastic. Leaf broke off, but I swear it was connected when I picked it!
23. Poem for Sara.
24. Another poem for Sara.
25. Short letter explaining what to do with my harddrive if I die.
26. A note reminding me to renew my license before it expires.

[Blog] MrsNekoJeans, Shezagodds's issue with me.

Sat, 04 Dec 2010 06:52:17 -0500

Added: 2010-12-04 06:52:17
In response to your inquiry regarding what incident has caused Shezagodds to have a general disdain against me, I'd love to explain, although my lawyers have instructed me to not comment on pending criminal court cases.

But I'm going to anyway.

You see, when I was a little girl, Shezagodds babysat me.� We used to watch Sesame Street while she'd drink, answer calls for some sort of service, and wax her disgusting bikini line. I learned a lot about womanhood from her. In fact, I credit her for my above-average understanding of the female psyche, not to mention anatomy.

She also did things to me that led me down a dark path, confused, internally alone, and with a highly sexualized sense of identity that eventually led to years in foster care, 3 sex change surgeries, a cosmetic lobotomy, and an entire-body skin graft. I was rented out to her countless "boyfriends" and used for manual labor in the off season.� One day I nearly drowned in KY Jelly.� I blocked out the abused 'me', and focused on the 'me' that was developing a solid work ethic, packing and weighing heroine, and transferring the goods across state lines.

At the age of 8, I ran away from home when I found out she was my real father.� I met some new friends, and established a prostitution ring in Phoenix. It was short-lived, as three-way partnerships often are, but I saved up enough to pay for school. I learned a lot about business dealings, tax shelters, and the law while studying and dwelling in various enterprises in the off-time.

By the age of 11, I had earned my bachelor's degree in criminal justice under a pseudonym and fake ID. I had committed myself to a clean and straight life as a man now, devoted to helping others in situations similar to my own.� I was better and had found a true purpose in life.

As a boy at the age of 14, I had all but forgotten my dark days as a lonely, abused little girl.� Then one night at a rest stop, I was approached by a dark figure while tying my shoes.� They were velcro and I always had trouble getting them in knots. The figure suddenly attacked me with a black rubber dildo.� Immediately a flood of emotions came over me. Fear. Despair. Resentment. Hatred. Love. Anger...

And arousal. I had sexually matured by then, and these feeling were new to me. They burned from my loins with the fierce intensity of a solar storm. I had attempted masturbation before, but after nearly losing my very expensive surgically-manifested anatomy into the gears of a coin-operated laundry machine, I had an overwhelming phobia of sexual relief. The energy built up in me to a boiling point. This day I overcame my fears. And then some.

I grabbed the black rubber dildo from the old man and bludgeoned his 84-year old frail little body to death. I felt no remorse for killing him. Only remorse for the years of my childhood that I would never get back. All the pent-up emotions came pouring out that night. I cried over his body until the sun rose.� To me, the dead body beneath me was a part of me that died.� A part of me that I longed to have back.� There was no reverse. Only what has happened and what was to come.

Soon after I destroyed the body, I realized the black rubber dildo was mine.� I had dropped it and the old fart was just giving it back to me.� It was at this moment that I realized even in the finality of death, there could be humor.� I laughed so hard I cried. And cried so hard I laughed. I was in a transition, and spiraling out of control.

Over the next several months, I went into seclusion.� I watched Shirley Temple movies for days on end. Time stood still as I morphed in my cocoon, reflecting on my life thus far, mentally reinventing who I was, facing the reality of the past, and the reality of what I had to do. I was putting back together a puzzle I did not know the solution to.

One cannot understand the thoughts of a mad man unless he has been there himself. I was not aware of what I was about to do. There was no world outside my own existence that mattered anymore. Everything I would do, it would be for my survival. That's how I saw it. I didn't know what would happen, only that it was going to happen.

I cleaned up. I shaved my my entire body, ridding myself of all that was old. A clean slate in the most literal sense. I threw out everything. Photos. Journals. Beddings. Baseball cards. Pornography. All of it.

Except the black rubber dildo.

I went to the store and bought things I would need for a life on the road.� I emptied my savings, and bought a used hearse from a widow using a fake name. I don't know why she used a fake name but she did.� I got on the highway.� I was heading to my old home.

When I got there, I scoped the local establishments. Stayed low-key. Avoided faces I knew. I slept days and lived in the shadows.

I drove by the old house. Empty. Windows broken. I thought I would feel something. Nothing. It was just the shell of what went on inside. It wasn't worth the energy to even throw a rock. I didn't want to grant it the interaction.

Eventually I caught wind of Shezagodds's whereabouts. Apparently she had fallen on hard times, and due to a horrendous yeast infection in 2007, she was left without the use of her entire left side. I had no sympathy. It was a gift from Karma. And I had come bearing more presents.

She lived in a home with 8 other people. It smelled of urine and pot. There was no running water and every 40 minutes someone would lumber to the back yard and secrete their wastes into a grove of rather robust fig trees. There were dogs fighting over scraps. A child, nude, playing among household waste and dog litter. A child... Innocent and unfiltered. Destined to follow the life I had led.� I had to act.

I wish I can say I acted in a blind fury, in a delusional rage, unaware of what was right and what was wrong. Some excuse to tell a judge to grant me a plea of insanity. "Like a switch," they say. Just "turned off". That isn't what happened at all, however. I was more on than ever. I returned to my hotel and planned. Every contingency considered. Every detail addressed. Every possible episode of Forensic Files watched.

Two nights later. On a Thursday evening. I was among human waste and fig groves. The moon was not up yet, and the sun had set hours ago. The darkness covered me in the oil of the night, made of a thick humid air, and the utter darkness of space like sleek, dark, oozing black tar. It sheltered me as though a blanket over a baby. A Tar Baby... Hidden in the shadows, careful not to let my teeth glow.

Out she came, as she had the same as every other night. Waddling, wheezing, scratching her vagina as though trying to grate cheese off a block of cheddar with her fingernails. She had aged some. Mostly from the meth and alcohol, I suppose. But it was her. She approached not 3 feet from me, stumbling, grasping for reference in the dark. She lifted her moo-moo, squatting, snorting and coughing phlegm as she relieved herself. As her three orifices zealously emptied her body in vain attempt to expel the wastes that was her soul, I lunged, black dildo in hand. She had no time to inhale a gasp before consciousness snapped from her being.� I dragged her body to my hearse and rolled her up a plywood ramp into the back.� The muffler scraped the ground as I drove off. It was unfathomable how much she had let herself go.

I drove for hours. I stopped for nothing. I had food, and a gallon container to urinate in. I wanted to be as far away as soon as I could.

For the first hour she was screaming, but on the highway, there was no one to hear her but me.� I said nothing.� I had the foresight to run the taillight wires outside the interior panels and attached a plywood housing, screwed and glued, over the entire interior. I insulated everything for sound. She had no way to signal those on the outside. She was in a coffin for all she knew.� In hindsight, I probably should have just made a coffin, considering it was a hearse.

I approached a cabin long since deserted 15 miles up an overgrown dirt road. I parked the car and closed my eyes for awhile. I could hear her sobbing as I dozed off.

I awoke to the sound of flatulence. It was morning and the sun's warmth amplified the stench emitting from the back.

I opened the back door. My shadow cast on her face. She was blinded in the sudden light of the sun. She rubbed her eyes and focused. She looked up and suddenly went into terror. She knew what I was going to do. And she withdrew. She knew the day would come.� And today was it. She would receive what I had as a child.� This time it was my turn.

So I took her into the cabin, chained her to the bed, got boozed up, started talking dirty on the phone, turned on Sesame Street, and showed her how the fuck to do a bikini wax the right way.

-RJM