Potential new slogans for Tumblr

Since Yahoo now owns us, I figured I might help them out with some new slogans.

• Tumblr: All men are evil and will rape you.
• Tumblr: We accept everyone and love everybody. Except Republicans.
• Tumblr: Because white girls have problems too, really
• Tumblr: We’re socially awkward and insecure, but we’re still better than you.
• Tumblr: Never research anything, just reblog it. Trust us, it’s true.

(This is a joke. If you don’t have a sense of humor. At least take the time to spell check before you spam me with hate mail)

Thank you very much! I’ve never really given much thought to writing in a professional way. But I suppose I should at least consider it. I have many stories to tell.

And thank you anon, I’m sure I’ll find someone who can put up with me.

And I most certainly will stay this time.

I’m seriously debating starting a training class for women (or men) on self defense and grappling. Geared towards facing an opponent who outweighs and is stronger than you.

Charlene

When I was freshly 21, I went down and took to drinking in the seaside city of San Clemente. I met this lovely girl in a pub that was mostly filled with marines. But for some reason, she found my boyish charm more attractive than the masculinity of the competition. Her name was Charlene, also 21 and had recently moved there.

We danced, we flirted. We drank. And one thing led to another as the night went on. We became intimate, kissed in the alley. In either a moment of drunken weakness or boldness she invited me back to her studio apartment. I gladly accepted. And the night ended the way you could imagine it would end with two young people intoxicated with desire and whiskey.

The sex itself was great, but that wasn’t what stood out to me. Afterwards we spent a few moments kissing, holding each other. And then drifted off to sleep.

I woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet. Charlene was up and by the window, looking out at the ocean. I had caught her in a moment. 

Still drunk, and perhaps ready for another round. I left the bed and walked over behind her. Kissed her shoulder and her neck,

 She smiled and giggled a bit. In a way that you’d expect to hear a lover that you’d been with for years. It was a comfortable laugh, an intrinsic laugh. A real laugh.

Then she said something that I truly caught me by surprise.

“I don’t want to see you again.”

I tried not to take offense, instead I just nodded and went to gather my clothes and leave.

“I want to see you right now, and in the morning. But I don’t want to see you again when you leave.”

I stopped. I had to ask her why. She sighed, and in a moment of pure honesty she said,

“You…are the epitome of the boys I’ve been warned about…Can you tell me that you’ll stay? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ll be with me?”

She shot this look to me that pierced me to the core. My very soul hurt from the gaze of her now vibrantly green eyes. In truth, I was hitting the bars on a rebound. I was on a “break” with a girlfriend. A very “on again/off again” relationship. This was a common situation to find myself in. But no other girl had confronted me.

“I didn’t think so…please don’t lie to me…”

I didn’t know what to do. I felt sad, embarrassed, and dirty. But I had a question that begged to be answered.

“If I asked you…would you keep me?”

Charlene smiled, a beautiful half smile. Crooked, but honest. She looked down and for a moment I could tell she entertained the idea. It seemed like the image of us living together, getting married, having children. All swirled through her head at the same time. But then, in an instant. The reality of who I was, and what I was came to the front of her mind. She looked over to me, this time with sadness and regret.

“I would love you, and you would destroy me.”

She was right. My life was chaos, a drunken stumble from one bed to another. From one barroom brawl to hospital room. Jails and Emergency rooms were all that I was going to see for a while. This girl knew that, she didn’t even need to get to know me. It was like she had read the chapters that hadn’t been written yet.

“You were wonderful. I’d like to think that you don’t make love to girls like that much.”

Truthfully I didn’t. I was especially passionate with her. Then it hit me, things had become too close, too personal. I needed to leave. I got dressed, buckled my belt. And headed for the door, a few protests from Charlene were ignored. Until I got to the door and stopped, turned back around.

It was strange, as if it was scripted. I don’t know why i said it. It was almost like I was saying because I needed it to be true.

“I do love you.”

And I left. She became just another lover. And I became a bullet she dodged.

I’ve walked past her studio apartment a few times since. Hoping that a girl with vibrant green eyes would come out and see a better version of her one night stand, those few years ago.

But some memories are meant to be just that, memories.

I’m sure she’s lived a beautiful life. I still pray for her.

Requests?

Or a question? Step into my office and entertain me. Or allow me to entertain you.

I want this, I need this.

39 plays

video is loading.

Bill, the american.

(walks outside after a long day at work, sits on the steps and sighs. A young man from south korea who introduced himself as "bill" a week earlier approaches.)
Me: *sighs*
Bill: You want a cigarette?
Me: Yeah, actually. I forgot my pack at home. Thanks Bill.
Bill: It's ok, you look like you need one.
Me: Definitely. (lights cigarette)
Bill: You have trouble with work?
Me: Hmm? Oh no, just a long day.
Bill: Trouble...with girlfriend?
Me: No, no girlfriend.
Bill: Trouble with boyfriend?
Me: Bill, I'm not gay.
Bill: You are just pretty.
Me: I don't know if that's your lack of english or if you really think I'm pretty, but thank you.
Bill: Very pretty for a man.
Me: Got that, thanks.
Bill: Most men aren't pretty.
Me: I think everyone's pretty in some way.
Bill: No. Some people just ugly.
Me: Hah, I guess you're right.
Bill: But you're pretty.
Me: Yes...thank you.
Bill: Do you think i'm pretty?
Me: Uh...yeah? Well...I dunno, you're handsome. Sure. But you're probably a bit too masculine to be called pretty.
Bill: What is this masculine?
Me: Um...Manly...macho...umm..."like a man"?
Bill: So it's a good thing?
Me: Most certainly.
Bill: Oh, thank you. Cheers.
Me: Do you have a girlfriend Bill?
Bill: No, I've got bitches all over. (laughs)
Me: Bill...who taught you that?
Bill: BET channel. With guys who rap.
Me: Yeah...don't...just don't say that. It's not good.
Bill: It means something wrong?
Me: Yeah, it kinda means like "I sleep around with a bunch of girls, and I don't treat them well." What did you think it meant?
Bill: That I'm interested in girls but I don't have one?
Me: No...definitely not the right phrase.
Bill: English is hard.
Me: Yes, it certainly is.
Bill: English can go suck my cock.
Me: Bill...we gotta have a talk about the channels you watch.