It’s actually still Wednesday evening, but I won’t post this until after midnight at the earliest, so what the hell.

I’m suddenly depressed, although it’s not at all a sign of psychic disfunction, it’s very much brought about by loneliness and envy. Two of Paul’s friends are here… for reasons that will become obvious, I’m going to withhold their names… and one of them… let’s call him ‘Bob’… is bitching about his sex life. It seems his girlfriend is bisexual, but she’s also extremely jealous and possessive and doesn't ever want to see another woman touching him, so the three way thing is right out, and any guy in the world can tell you, there’s no point in dating a bisexual babe with THAT goddam attitude, no sir. And he’s also interested in another woman, and is getting some attention and renewed interest from his most recent ex, too, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Paul’s other friend, whom we’ll call, hmmm, let’s see, Asshole, yeah, that will do, is going on and on about how his wife of nine years (whom he is currently separated from) has always been bisexual, and he’s had a lot of three ways with her and her various girlfriends, and I’m not sure if he had a point, I suspect he may have just wanted to lob that out there for the rest of us to choke on and turn green with envy over, and, well, here I am in my room, listening to Better Than Ezra and trying very hard not to think about all the things I’ve never gotten to do, and probably won’t get to in this incarnation, either, and how miserable and depressed that makes me whenever I dwell on it.

This isn’t helped by the fact that I tend to have these detailed romantic fantasies whenever I meet a new woman I’m interested in. I don’t just mean sexual fantasies. I mean, really detailed emotional fantasies. Will McLean, the hero of Pat Conroy’s excellent novel The Lords of Discipline, once mentioned that he had had detailed fantasy relationships in which he had wooed, made love to, married, and spent the rest of his life with, women he had only passed on the street and who would never have any idea he was alive. I know exactly how he feels. Lately I’ve been having these really detailed fantasies about this woman who I’ve had some contact with, but it’s never going to work out… hell, it’s never even going to start… and I know that. And now these idiots are out in the living room, bitching to each other about how horrible and problematic it is that they’re getting laid by all these bisexual women, and honestly, I’d like to just go break their arms in about four different places.

Of course, if I was the kind of guy who just goes out and breaks other guys’ arms for annoying me, I would doubtless be getting laid regularly by several total hotties. Great looking chicks love guys like that. I grant you, I’d have to have a whole lot of tattoos, and doubtless my girlfriends all would, too, but hey, that’s a price I’d be willing to pay.

Ah, pay no attention to my bitching. I’ll get over this. Paul goes back to work tomorrow for another four days, so I won’t have to put up with his idiot friends dropping by during the day time, at least.

Being alone is much easier if you simply stay to yourself. It’s when you have to go out and deal with people who don’t have to be alone that it really sucks. I really need to just get my own place so I can get back to my hermit act again. This enforced socialization just blows.

SPIN AND ANTI-SPIN

What will probably turn out to be my last Unemployment check hit my account early this morning (well, yesterday morning by the time I post this) so I really need to find some other source of income. Paul’s friend Chad (not cousin Chad, a guy who works with Paul) showed up tonight and asked if I could word process up a lot of forms and documents for him, because he’s thinking about opening his own business, and I said sure, so there may be a tiny little amount of money in that down the road… or not, I have no idea if Chad is a b.s. artist or not. It wouldn’t be much money anyway; he doesn’t need much done… maybe $20, $25. Still, it’s nice to be asked.

Paul and I watched Star Wars again today; playing the game had made us both want to see it again. It’s a pretty good little B adventure, although I was a little shocked to watch it this time and realize for the first time just how incredibly WHITE that picture is. I mean, it was filmed in like 1975, before all this politically correct racial sensitivity really became part of our cultural fabric, but still… JESUS. Everybody in that movie is TOTALLY white. I mean, there aren’t even any vaguely Hispanic looking characters. And then, in Empire, when they do bring in a black guy, it’s Billy Dee Williams, the whitest black human in the history of the world.

I once more have nothing to read (I just can’t bring myself to pick up that godawful Koontz anthology again). I’m thinking about rereading Moore and Campbell’s From Hell, but its really complex and grim and depressing and I’m not sure I’m in the mood for that now. I have a stack of Paul’s movies still to get through, though, so not having anything to read isn’t really that big a deal. I miss having a book I’m working my way through, though. It’s a big part of my personality and my behavior, having a book to read when I’m not doing anything else, and it’s kind of uncomfortable to not be in the process of reading anything. Zephyrhills badly needs a bookstore, but then, I couldn’t afford to go to one anyway.

I just put in this Sarah McLaughlin disc I bought a while back. The only thing on it that I like is “Full of Grace”, the song playing over the final few minutes of “Becoming, Part 2”, the second season closer of Buffy. But I like “Full of Grace” a lot. It’s a very depressing song, which usually cheers me up.

After I’ve listened to “Full of Grace” a few times, I’ll throw in the ultimate depression fighting CD… “Tapestry” by Carole King. I generally can’t stay depressed while listening to it, so that should be okay.

Let’s see. There’s really not a whole lot to talk about… nothing exciting in my life at all. Email’s been slow… a couple of things from sis in law Erica (whom I will finally get to meet this weekend; I’m looking forward to that, although I can’t imagine it will be a real thrill for her; people who think they’ve gotten to know me well long distance through my writing are inevitably disappointed when they meet me for the first time, although most of them are nice enough not to admit it). I got something from Trinity last night right before she crashed, which was kind of her.

What’s interesting, if not good, is that since I subscribed to SquawkBox (my comments thread provider) I can now set an email notification feature. I always thought this would be cool, since the first thing I do when I sign on is check my email, and then I usually swing by here to see if I’ve gotten any comments.

However, now if I’ve gotten comments, they get emailed to me. This seems cool, but what it means is, if I have no email, then there’s no point going by the blog, and if I have email, well, a lot of times in the last few days, I haven’t actually had email itself, just comments on the blog, which is kind of disappointing.

I don’t know. I may disable the notification feature, just so I can, if only briefly, continue to hope I have comments on my blog even if I have no email. Although really, that seems kind of pathetic.

I still haven’t gotten anything from Jonathan in Australia beyond the free copy of TMIS #4. I hate to be a pest, but, still. I’m going to have to shoot him another email.

I honestly shouldn’t be bitching about anything. I mean, anyone with a sane sense of proportion and any knowledge of human history and/or current world conditions would know that compared to billions of people living in past eras, or for that matter probably millions or billions alive now, my living conditions are positively idyllic. What, I’m whining because I haven’t been laid in a while and have no immediate prospects? Because I have nothing to read? Because I’m not getting enough email? That’s pathetic.

Actually, I didn’t throw in Carole King after all. I found my one Glen Miller CD and am currently listening to “In The Mood”, which I really like. I heard the door close a few minutes ago, so I think the Posse of Oversexed Whiners has gone somewhere. Let’s hope.

Nope, just checked… they’re all still out there. In fact, while I’ve been in here, two more have shown up, which means there’s six goddam people in this tiny shack, and none of them are Katie Holmes. That’s profoundly wrong on so many levels…

Oh, well. I’ll just stay in here and listen to the big band sounds of a bygone era, and, I have no doubt, sulk like a great big baby over a life that billions would envy. Cuz I’m just like that.

Okay, it’s 1:08. I watched a little bit of Empire, put in my earplugs and napped for an hour or so, and apparently nearly everyone cleared out while I was more or less asleep. I went out and made a sandwich (ham and cheese; Paul ate all the roast beef), had some potato salad with it, and now I’m back in here listening to Ms. King croon to me softly about how I’m so far away. Baby, you don’t know the half of it.

Guess I can post this now, although, honestly, it’s one of those really boring and pointless blog entries I can’t see people getting much out of.

RULES OF THE ROAD

In one of his many invaluable essays on life in Hollywood, Mark Evanier described his first meeting with legendary TV comic and icon Milton Berle. Upon being introduced to Uncle Miltie and shaking hands with him, Mark, who is a pretty witty guy, blurted out without even thinking about it, “Wow, I didn’t recognize you in men’s clothing”. According to Mark, this soured Uncle Miltie on him from that point forward, because Mark had broken Rule Number One When Hanging With Milton Berle, namely, Never Be Funnier Than Milton Berle.

I’m reminded of that anecdote now.

Recent experiences at Electrolite being pretty much entirely similar if not completely identical to my previous experiences at Uppity-Negro.com and TampaTantrum.com, I thought I’d take the time to extrapolate whatever wisdom there is to find in the whole mess. Here’s The Deal, as far as I can see:

If you want to make friends and influence people when you head out onto the blogging trail, at least, as regards your posting comments on other people’s blogs, you MUST NOT:

Rule E comes mostly out of my experiences with Aaron Hawkin’s Uppity-Negro blog. He gets a lot of female posters and like any of us male geeks would be in that admirable position, he is thoroughly whipped by them. If a new reader comes along and does anything whatsoever to offend the babes on Aaron’s blog, that new reader can expect a cold shoulder from Aaron roughly the size of the Greenland glacier. I don’t really blame Aaron for this; for a male geek, positive female attention is a jewel beyond price, and if I ever had any women posting to my blog who weren’t related to me by marriage, I’d most likely dance and sing like a puppet on a string when they cracked the lash, too.

I should add to this that I’ve learned, from Electrolite, that one Must Not Be Whimsical, Oblique, or Overly Geeky When Posting To A Big Important Political Marketplace of Ideas Type Blog, because those guys just have no time for Theodore Marley Brooks or Cornelus van Lunt references, regardless of how amusing or entertaining you and some others may find them.

Now, I am posting this to point out that while these may be the universal Rules of the Road on other blogs (and as far as I can see, they are, indeed, pretty much universal) you can ignore them here. I don’t care if you:

Oh, and I like geeky references and would just adore whimsical, cleverly elliptical posts to my comment threads, although I suspect I’d get annoyed if someone started posting a whole lot of Harry Potter-speak here, just for one example.

If there is a universal rule on this blog, it is quite simply, Do Not Be A Bigger Asshole Than The Blogger. In fact, if you can avoid it (and most of my small number of regular posters avoid it with style and panache) Don’t Be An Asshole At All. I am quite a big enough asshole myself to supply all the assholiness necessary for any blog, and I will continue to keep this blog well furnished with stupid remarks, doltish mistakes, whiney rationalizations, and defensive recriminations by the ton lot, there can be no doubt. You need bring none of your own asshole nature with you, I have plenty and am always willing to share.

THE INEVITABLE DISCLAIMER

By generally accepted social standards, I'm not a likable guy. I'm not saying that to get cheap reassurances. It's simply the truth. I regard many social conventions in radically different ways than most people do, I have many many controversial opinions, and I tend to state them pretty forthrightly. This is not a formula for popularity in any social continuum I've ever experienced.

In my prior blogs, I took the fairly standard attitude: if you don't like my opinions or my blog, don't read the fucking thing.

Having given that some more thought, though, I'm not going to say that this time around, because I've realized that what this is basically saying is, 'if you don't like what I have to say, tough, I don't want to hear it, don't even bother to tell me, just go away'.

And that's actually a pretty worthless attitude. It's basically saying, 'I don't want to hear anything except unconditional agreement and approval'. And that's nonsense. This is still a free country... for a little while longer, anyway... and if you really feel you just gotta send me a flame, or post one on my comment threads (assuming they actually work, which I cannot in any way guarantee) then by all means, knock yourself out.

Unless your flame is exceptionally cogent, witty, or stylish, though, I will most likely ignore it. You do have a right to say anything you want (although I'm not sure that's a right when you're doing it in my comment threads, but hey, you can certainly send all the emails you want). However, I have an equal right not to read anything I don't feel like reading... and I'm really quick with the delete key... as various angry folks have found in the past, when they decided they just had to do their absolute level best to make me as miserable as possible.

So, if you don't like my opinions, feel free to say so. However, if I find absolutely nothing worthwhile in your commentary, I will almost certainly not respond to it in any way.

Stupidity, ignorance, intolerance... these things are only worth my time and attention if they're entertaining. So unless you can be stupid, ignorant, and/or intolerant with enough wit, style, and/or panache to amuse me... try to be smart, informed, and broad minded when you write me.