Monday, December 8, 2008

I have 2 eyes in a blind kingdom, and yet I'm still not king.


On Living:

Everything that you do will bite you in the ass. It could be good. It could be bad. Either way, you will complain about it.

On Dating:

You're not interesting; she's not interesting. Together, you're far less interesting. You're both too picky and it's a miracle you managed to get past date #2 without fucking it up. Your chances of lasting through the long haul, through the big M, in a Universe where Victoria's Secret supermodels / waifs parade up and down a television runway in nothing but their underwear and white angel's wings . . . . . . . . . . . . sorry, lost my train of thought . . . oh yeah, your chances of making it are almost nil.

So, here's the thing. Don't worry about how long it will last or what it means, savor the shit out of it while you've got it, because after he or she or it shreds your heart into more pieces than a Lehman Bros. retirement plan, long after you've gone broke on the therapy bills and gotten past the pain and the betrayal and the "that fucking bitch" syndrome, you'll have something nice to get all nostalgic about when you're listening to your next girlfriend drone on about how her boss /friend is such an idiot and can't even wear shoes that match her belt.

On Dying:

You're gonna die. You don't know when. You don't know how. Treating your body like some holy temple through which no evil shall pass, not cheese, not meat, not second hand smoke, will get you hit by a bus and / or killed by a chunk of wing off a poorly maintained international aircraft going to all the places you're afraid to go because you know the water there isn't quite "right". Why? Because God hates pompous asses, self-righteous asses, and people who don't know how to have fun with the life they've been given. On the other hand, treating your body like a theme park called GarbageLand USA will probably build up your immune system, but it will also make you feel like crap, and therefore make you wish you were dead, because you can't stand up straight, and in your hunched-back glory, you spend more time coughing up phlegm than you do breathing.

So, the key is to eat well most of the time, eat crap every now and then. Walk every day, and I don't mean to and from the fucking car. I mean, around a track, at a park, anywhere that gets your heart pumping and your lungs filling, and only do stupid, reckless, spontaneous things every once in a long while.


Listen very closely! You do NOT have to run six miles a day before breakfast, then hit the gym on the way home. You do NOT have to throw up. You do NOT have to take expensive herbs, pills and potions to feel normal, and you and I and the entire fucking world know that there are no quick fixes. Liposuction won't make you healthy. Breast implants won't make you feel better about yourself. They'll only make you feel better about your tits and leave a special "prize inside" your coffin. You do NOT have to buy any book that has the word "Diet" in it. This includes, but is not limited to, The South Beach Diet, The Atkins Diet, The Gerbil Food Diet and "Hey, Look, I Ain't A Fatty No More" by Starr Jones. No one can tell you anything more than you already know about food, but just in case you're a complete and total idiot (and I always assume that which is the highest probability), I will explain.

Running tears up your knees. Treadmills are boring. Weights are boring and tear up your joints. Swimming is good. Walking is good. Having fun is really good, even if it's doing something dorky like wearing a cape, wrapping foam around a stick and meeting all your friends from the Society for Creative Anachronisms down at the park to properly educate your "Squire" upon the most chivalrous uses of his "sword".

Eating fat is bad. Eating a shit load of food is bad. Eating in a restaurant, fast food or not, is almost always bad, even when you think you're being good. Sugar is bad. Vegetables are good, but not deep fried, soaked in butter or sprinkled with sugar. Meat is okay, but not wrapped around or stuffed with cheese, deep fried, soaked in butter or sprinkled with sugar, and absolutely no roadkill. It's disgusting and you know it. I don't care if you are from Mississippi.

It's more important to feel healthy than it is to look healthy. Fuck anyone who tells you different. They can look healthy in their coffin, but you'll be the one making snide comments about how "lifelike" they look.

If you're so fucking fat that you can't manage it on your own and you want to get your stomach stapled or lap-banded or tied in a knot by a party clown with balloon experience then do so. Be proactive. Realize that it's still not a magic solution and that you're still going to have change your health, your psychology and your behavior. Food can be a reward sometimes, but not every meal is a fucking Grand Pris Trophy.


You can do it fast. You can do it slow. You can be hard and/or gentle. You can fill whatever holes you like as long as it's mutual. A little bruising or redness is acceptable, but anything that sends you to the hospital or that leaves lifelong scars is coming about because you have gaping wounds inside you that haven't healed. Get your ass to a therapist, figure your shit out, then go back and try it again.

Pleasure feels good. Pain can feel good. Both can be rewarding. Role-playing is fine. Public sex is fine, as long as you are aware that anyone who happens along has the right to call the cops if they so desire. It wouldn't be as exciting without the fear of getting caught, right? Well, do it enough and your excitement will be fully realized.

Having a fetish is fine as long as the fetish does not become the sole focus of your sexual desire. Sex is supposed to be about connecting with yourself and possibly another person, or two. It is not supposed to be the end all be all of your existence.

Don't fuck animals. Don't fuck children. I don't give a shit if you think your neighbor's schnauzer was coming on to you or if that little boy in his front yard was blowing kisses your way. They weren't. They can't give their consent, and even if they could, they don't understand the act they're consenting to, because they're too stupid and immature.

You are an adult, and you're reasonably intelligent. Check yourself in and get your shit figured out or we can and will catch your ass and send you to a place where you can't give consent and aren't given a choice, but will get everything that's coming to you, and no one will care because we'll be too busy applauding a three time loser who made the mistake of ripping off a shop that specializes in security cameras, but who also found inside his heart the time and energy to rape you.

to be continued

Aaron Diaz Hoal

(originally published 10/12/08)

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