Not what I had in mind, but it'll do

On to more casual, less opinionated things.


My most recent string of unfortunate events has come from my drinking habit (circa 2006) which has never flown off the handle, but has not gotten better since it started.

But alas, my problem lies less with the drinking but more with my post 2 am obsessions, being women and food. Though I've never mixed the two (intentionally), I always have the craving for both and the misfortune comes when I've realized I can have neither. Like any other reasonable delinquent alcoholic (or debonair saucier as I like to call myself) the first realization comes when heading to the bus and you've made all of your phone calls to either Bertha, destroyer of the cocks, or Bertha, deliverer of the pizza.

When neither has answered and you make your walk of shame to the bus, you know there are only two things to do when you get home: self gratification of the highest possible form. Or at least that's what most would do.

I do not have the good fortune of most people, nor the regular sex drive of your average college male. I never in my life have been able to go home, look at pants and say...ON!! It just doesn't work like that. There's no button in me that says "turn cock on." So if that is my night’s ambition, I have to work for it, meaning porn or hope that my neighbours from a far are doing the mattress mambo. Now comes my misfortunes.

1. I hate porn. Until a year ago it always made me uncomfortable and I could never figure it out. Guy bangs girl, girl is hot, they seem to be enjoying it(in the oddest of ways) and therefore so should I, though I'm only peering in from a computer screen, I should still be able to get a flutter or some kind of sign that I like seeing sex. I think the problem is that I'm an incredibly weird, over-thinking, and awkward person. I start thinking right before I sign on. Immediately when the options cum up (sorry had to make it) I've already started the process of "Ok what should I watch, am I in a teen anal tryouts night, a midgets get funky night, a young pink and ready night, or a itty bitty titties night? My immediate thoughts begin with, "HOW FUCKED UP AM I?" I calm down and immediately think that I am fine, I am normal, everyone watches porn, even nuns (because if they're in it they have to watch it, right? For editing purposes? So I calm down and casually click on the midgets, no the anal, no the titty's, NO the yougens (since their close to my age by California state law). Now I've already turned off the computer and am without stimulus. I wander around aimlessly through my house and it's by now 4am. Its ok, I don't need to get my kicks tonight though the last time I did would have been....hmmm....when was Kim Campbell in office?

Now comes a problem which kind of interrupts the two issues which arise from the absence of women. We shall deem this problem, problem 1a.

1a. After my failure at pitching a tent, I wander up and down my stairs, through the halls until finally it hits me. Fuck wankin, I'll watch t.v., chill out, and eat some food. So I always turn on the t.v. first to see what I'll be settling in to. For the night owls who know, even with basic satellite, there's nothing on past 3am. You can catch the rest of a movie, sports highlights (which is fine until they re-run) or my achiles heel, Iron Chef. FUCK if I'm not excited for Iron Chef, it's exciting, it's delicious, and when you’re plastered at 4am, it is God. Now here's when problem 1a comes in: Iron Chef=amazing food, like, fucking ambrosia, Tim=drunk and starving for more than just food. I've wasted an hour sifting through porn that I refuse to watch, meaning I'm even hungrier than I was when realizing defeat on the way home. So what do I do? I try to find enlightenment and solace in my kitchen, thinking maybe just maybe I can whip up something that can satisfy my stomach, my tastebuds, and my desperate to thrust pelvis. I quickly turn off the t.v. seeing that Iron Chef Morimoto has made something which looks like it could bring all of the fallen Samurai of Japan back to life. Dashing through the halls, drunk with glee, I flip open my cupboards only to find condiments, saltines, and vegetables which have less life than Peter Graves. Knowing that mixing the three is not in my best interest, I settle for the crackers and get myself a frosty cup of hangover water and finish watching Iron Chef, chomping loudly. At about 4:50am, when the chef's must present their dishes to the judges and like a bunch of spoiled panelists critisize the food as if it was prepared by retarded 3rd graders equipped with only crayons and play-doh . By 4:55am, I'm sobbing or screaming angrily, much to housemate’s dismay. So when I hear, "Tim why are you crying loudly (and or yelling) this late, they don't understand, they never will. But unofrtunately for me this is still only problem 1a.

2. Now more defeated than ever and angry at the television, angry at my kitchen, and still without any kind of self-gratification, I stumble up the stairs to bed. Now, this has always been my method for at least trying to get in the hot zone because it does work at times, but is incredibly difficult. It's essentially like wishing it up. I think of the girl I'd most like to please, or be with, or especially someone I really like at the time and pray that it gets up. The odd time when that works, bada-bing , I'm now only angry that I'm hungry, but the times when it doesn't literally feels as if I've failed myself as a man. So after it's all failed (if it did) I’m left alone in bed naked, starving, drunk, and horny (or so I think). I have a cigarette which always takes a little bit of agony off the ole shoulders.

So by now it's at least 5:30am, my bed is crunchy, and I've had it.

What's sad is this is almost a weekly occurrence. Maybe I should see a porn therapist, maybe I should stop watching Iron Chef, and maybe I should try and separate my habits.

But still, every week?

I need a girlfriend.
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Epilogue:

To the panderers’ wondering why I dislike porn, here a few reasons why I dislike it:

-I find it demeaning to women
-the guys are always disgusting (I'm not gay, but I have fucking standards...literally)
-the big cum shot at the end always makes it look like the girl is trying to catch the winning touchdown of the super bowl
-guys always say that awkward dirty talk which girls take with acceptance(among other things)
-two girls was not ruined by one cup, I never liked girl on girl because if I was there, I'd want in (though I've tried that and it almost worked, but I was too drunk and laughing way too hard though the girls were so god damned smoking....I missed that one, but that's a story for another time)
-I hate the locations
-most of the girls look as if they were made by plastic meaning it's hard to differentiate many things; breasts, face, ass...gender(shudder)
-I hate the beginnings, the girls always address the camera in the most annoying ways. I don't know about you, but I like fornicating with smart individuals, not kindergarten drop-outs
-porn can get really weird
-did I mention they're all ugly?
-the names of the movies aren't clever enough
-the acting is comparable to that of Lauren Conrad's, Eric Boardman, and Andi McDowell
-the music is so awful, yet blind AND deaf people have made better

So mixed that all together and what we have is the reverse process, I want things to come out of my cock, not on to it.