So here I am minding my own business on the internet, when a message comes to me on Facebook. It’s from Lois Ramos. I don’t think I know anyone named Lois Ramos. Maybe she’s a long-forgotten ex-high school classmate or someone I used to work with in the grocery store. The message itself offered no clues. It merely said “hi” and ended with a smiley face emoticon.
The picture of Lois Ramos on the message was one of those generic Facebook silhouettes, so I decided to check out Ms. Ramos’ profile to see if I recognized the picture. There I found a private Facebook account. That’s understandable in this day and age of internet identity theft. The privacy is not what stood out to me most though. Ms. Ramos had now posted a profile picture. There she was in bed – pretty, young, blonde, and completely naked! Now I’m thinking I don’t know who Lois Ramos is, but I want to!
I befriended Lois Ramos. Her Facebook profile said I should go to a website if I wanted to see more pictures of her and meet her personally. Of course I want to meet the beautiful Ms. Ramos, so I went to her website, where I gave her my email address.
That was four days ago. I still have not heard back from Ms. Ramos. Now my email is filled with spam wanting me to buy watches and enlarge my penis. I’m beginning to think that Ms. Ramos isn’t real and that it was all just a scam to get my email address.
It’s not all bad, though. One of the emails I received is from this young woman named Marina who is beautiful and wants to chat with me. Maybe she’s local and we can meet!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The Great Plane Lottery
I’m on a plane, heading for a long flight across the country. The plane looks like it will be full, but it may have a few open seats. I’m in the isle seat, and a guy approaches me to occupy the window seat. I get up to allow him to sit, conversing with the minimal amount of talking and eye contact possible.
This leads to the great plane lottery. The lottery establishes how the middle seat in the row will determine my level of enjoyment on the flight. If I’m a big winner, the middle seat will remain unoccupied. I will be able to stretch my legs and may be able to catch a little sleep. If I’m the big loser, an obese, sweaty man will occupy the middle seat who will use the flight to sell me life insurance or convert me to Mormonism or tell me in exhausting detail about his antique flour container collection.
Then there are degrees in between. Slightly better than the sweaty man is the old woman who frequently uses the phrase, “back in my day.” I used to think that the next best thing to having an empty seat next to me on the plane is to have an attractive woman who I could flirt with and maybe convince to join me in the mile-high club. Then I realized that I don’t live in a porn movie. Women don’t fly across country hoping to hook up in a tiny bathroom with a dumpy guy who farts every time the pressure changes.
If the middle seat has to be occupied, let it be filled by some quiet, thin man who smells neutral and doesn’t seem to care about my farts. Also, he has a bladder of steel and never needs to use the bathroom.
This leads to the great plane lottery. The lottery establishes how the middle seat in the row will determine my level of enjoyment on the flight. If I’m a big winner, the middle seat will remain unoccupied. I will be able to stretch my legs and may be able to catch a little sleep. If I’m the big loser, an obese, sweaty man will occupy the middle seat who will use the flight to sell me life insurance or convert me to Mormonism or tell me in exhausting detail about his antique flour container collection.
Then there are degrees in between. Slightly better than the sweaty man is the old woman who frequently uses the phrase, “back in my day.” I used to think that the next best thing to having an empty seat next to me on the plane is to have an attractive woman who I could flirt with and maybe convince to join me in the mile-high club. Then I realized that I don’t live in a porn movie. Women don’t fly across country hoping to hook up in a tiny bathroom with a dumpy guy who farts every time the pressure changes.
If the middle seat has to be occupied, let it be filled by some quiet, thin man who smells neutral and doesn’t seem to care about my farts. Also, he has a bladder of steel and never needs to use the bathroom.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Art Brut
People who know me well know that I like to play pranks. The larger the audience, the better. I especially love conning a whole group of people, which is called culture jamming. Other pranksters like the Yes Men or Joey Scaggs do it to further a cause such as pointing out corporate hypocrisy or media culpability. I just like fucking with people.
I just turned 70, and it’s important to me to finally reveal my greatest prank before I die. I can now tell the world that I am the Philadelphia Wireman.
First some background. The artistic world is always looking for the newest thing. Unsatisfied with people that study art in universities, the artistic world turned to outsider art, essentially untrained artists that made art for the sheer joy of doing it. Outsider art made by simple folk generated the most interest, leading to frenzied interest in the work of the deaf and probably autistic James Charles Castle and the 10,000+ page novel and drawings by janitor Henry Darger.
The Philadelphia Wireman story says that an art student found over 1000 sculptures made of wire and garbage in a box next to a dumpster outside of a Philadelphia transient home in 1982. The artist is believed to have died, and the sculptures, assumed to be his life’s work, were discarded by staff. They are now featured prominently in some of the finest galleries in the world.
The truth is my late wife and I spent a year haphazardly putting together these sculptures, finishing several each day, and the art student was a friend of our son who was in on it. There was no transient. The prank was easy and fun. And in the end, this prank was more artistic than anything that the Philadelphia Wireman created.
I just turned 70, and it’s important to me to finally reveal my greatest prank before I die. I can now tell the world that I am the Philadelphia Wireman.
First some background. The artistic world is always looking for the newest thing. Unsatisfied with people that study art in universities, the artistic world turned to outsider art, essentially untrained artists that made art for the sheer joy of doing it. Outsider art made by simple folk generated the most interest, leading to frenzied interest in the work of the deaf and probably autistic James Charles Castle and the 10,000+ page novel and drawings by janitor Henry Darger.
The Philadelphia Wireman story says that an art student found over 1000 sculptures made of wire and garbage in a box next to a dumpster outside of a Philadelphia transient home in 1982. The artist is believed to have died, and the sculptures, assumed to be his life’s work, were discarded by staff. They are now featured prominently in some of the finest galleries in the world.
The truth is my late wife and I spent a year haphazardly putting together these sculptures, finishing several each day, and the art student was a friend of our son who was in on it. There was no transient. The prank was easy and fun. And in the end, this prank was more artistic than anything that the Philadelphia Wireman created.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Googling Will Divide
At some point, everyone should Google themselves. In addition to finding out what there is to say about you personally on the internet, you can also find out what other people with your name may be up to.
Google Will Divide, and you won’t find me until the 37th link, which goes to show you that I’m not very popular. Most of the links ahead of me are about how you can buy property without having to purchase the full tract of land. There’s also a doctor based out of Oklahoma who apparently offers free proctology exams for the poor, which sounds both very generous and somewhat creepy.
Then there’s this one link about a guy name Will K. Divide from Boston who lived in the 19th Century. He apparently killed a bunch of kids before the cops could catch and execute him. He went by the cool name of the Boston Orphan Strangler.
There is this one website called reefermadness.com that has the story of a teenager named Will Divide. He lived in Kansas City in the 1930s and was found menacing in downtown while apparently delusional from smoking marijuana cigarettes. The cops shot him to death before he could menace some more.
My favorite though is the wikipedia entry on Will Divide. He apparently helped the Nazis during World War II even though he was gay. He was no subversive; Divide kept his homosexuality a secret because he believed in the cause. Although Will was not directly responsible for the killing of Jews, he did set up concentration camps. Reports are that his concentration camps were the best decorated in the whole Nazi camp system.
I’m just a simple blogger. As you can see, I have a lot to live up to.
Google Will Divide, and you won’t find me until the 37th link, which goes to show you that I’m not very popular. Most of the links ahead of me are about how you can buy property without having to purchase the full tract of land. There’s also a doctor based out of Oklahoma who apparently offers free proctology exams for the poor, which sounds both very generous and somewhat creepy.
Then there’s this one link about a guy name Will K. Divide from Boston who lived in the 19th Century. He apparently killed a bunch of kids before the cops could catch and execute him. He went by the cool name of the Boston Orphan Strangler.
There is this one website called reefermadness.com that has the story of a teenager named Will Divide. He lived in Kansas City in the 1930s and was found menacing in downtown while apparently delusional from smoking marijuana cigarettes. The cops shot him to death before he could menace some more.
My favorite though is the wikipedia entry on Will Divide. He apparently helped the Nazis during World War II even though he was gay. He was no subversive; Divide kept his homosexuality a secret because he believed in the cause. Although Will was not directly responsible for the killing of Jews, he did set up concentration camps. Reports are that his concentration camps were the best decorated in the whole Nazi camp system.
I’m just a simple blogger. As you can see, I have a lot to live up to.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Craigslist Ad - M4W - Honesty Is the Best Policy
I think that honesty is very important in a relationship. That’s why I should point out now that I have a big penis. Some men claim to have a big penis, but mine is especially large. When erect, the head easily goes past my belly button. And it’s got some girth to it too. It’s about the same circumference as a can of Red Bull. I have to wear loose-fitting jeans because if I don’t my penis is both very noticeable and very uncomfortable.
Look, I’m not saying this because I think women will fall all over themselves to sleep with me. I firmly believe that sex will come in time. When that time comes, I don’t want the woman that I am with to be surprised. Think about how horrible it would be if I’m in the moment with a woman who interests me. We get naked and she sees what I’m packing and is scared by it. That’s unfair to everyone.
I also know that some women don’t care for large penises. I get it, it can be painful having all of that manhood inside of you. Sex is supposed to be pleasurable, not painful. It’s no fun for me either trying to unsuccessfully cram my erect penis into a vagina that won’t stretch to fit it. That’s no fun for anyone.
At this point in most personal ads, you should post about yourself, what you look like, hobbies, pets, musical preferences, career, etc. I don’t feel the need to do that. Look, I have a large penis. Porn stars are jealous of me. I can carry your hanging laundry from the dryer to your bedroom with it. Isn’t that enough?
Look, I’m not saying this because I think women will fall all over themselves to sleep with me. I firmly believe that sex will come in time. When that time comes, I don’t want the woman that I am with to be surprised. Think about how horrible it would be if I’m in the moment with a woman who interests me. We get naked and she sees what I’m packing and is scared by it. That’s unfair to everyone.
I also know that some women don’t care for large penises. I get it, it can be painful having all of that manhood inside of you. Sex is supposed to be pleasurable, not painful. It’s no fun for me either trying to unsuccessfully cram my erect penis into a vagina that won’t stretch to fit it. That’s no fun for anyone.
At this point in most personal ads, you should post about yourself, what you look like, hobbies, pets, musical preferences, career, etc. I don’t feel the need to do that. Look, I have a large penis. Porn stars are jealous of me. I can carry your hanging laundry from the dryer to your bedroom with it. Isn’t that enough?
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Rated R Movies, By Will Divide, Jr., Age 10
What is it about women’s boobies that make them turn a movie into a rated R movie? I have boobies. When I go to a pool, I don’t wear a shirt, and parents don’t seem to care. Babies get milk from their mom’s boobies. Apparently, it’s okay to see boobies as a baby, not ok to see them when you’re my age, and ok to see them again once you’re 18. Why is that? Does the sight of boobies at age 10 make you go crazy or turn into a witch?
Last spring while staying at my dad’s apartment, I found a bunch of pictures of naked women on his computer. Seeing those pictures didn’t turn me into a crazy person or a witch. The only thing I could tell from the pictures is that women’s boobies get bigger when they get older. This makes sense. Feet get bigger when you get older, so why shouldn’t boobies? They can show girls naked feet all the time in movies, but if they show a booby, the movie is rated R.
This makes me really mad. The movie could have a really cool explosion, or it could have some guy getting killed and his brains and skull spray all over the place. I want to see that stuff. The same movie has naked boobies in it, and suddenly it’s not allowed.
Even worse is swear words. Do you think I don’t know what they are? Do you think I don’t listen to Li’l Wayne? Do you think I don’t swear when talking to my friend Jimmy? I know all the swears and what they mean, so let’s stop pretending I don’t and let me watch an R rated movie with swears and boobies.
Last spring while staying at my dad’s apartment, I found a bunch of pictures of naked women on his computer. Seeing those pictures didn’t turn me into a crazy person or a witch. The only thing I could tell from the pictures is that women’s boobies get bigger when they get older. This makes sense. Feet get bigger when you get older, so why shouldn’t boobies? They can show girls naked feet all the time in movies, but if they show a booby, the movie is rated R.
This makes me really mad. The movie could have a really cool explosion, or it could have some guy getting killed and his brains and skull spray all over the place. I want to see that stuff. The same movie has naked boobies in it, and suddenly it’s not allowed.
Even worse is swear words. Do you think I don’t know what they are? Do you think I don’t listen to Li’l Wayne? Do you think I don’t swear when talking to my friend Jimmy? I know all the swears and what they mean, so let’s stop pretending I don’t and let me watch an R rated movie with swears and boobies.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Restoring Sanity
All throughout the land, sanity was restored. Harsh partisans whose venom is spewed on cable TV, droplets of spit collecting on the camera, toned down their rhetoric, calmly and rationally explaining themselves. Political operatives put down the signs and stopped screaming, preferring to calmly text their opinions to those who care to listen, expletive-free. Tea partiers decided that rather than bluntly force their views on people, they would invite people over for tea. And not just any tea. Good tea, not just Lipton but Earl Grey and even chamomile. Those that thought Bush was responsible for 9/11 calmly reviewed empirical evidence and determined that in fact it was Al Qaida responsible for the catastrophe. Their signs ended up in the recycling bin.
It was a glorious day throughout the country. People realized that the end of days wasn’t coming. It became evident that no matter who held the levers of power, those people were uninterested in handing the country over to economic oblivion, totalitarianism, or Muslim extremists. Gay people felt comfortable to be out in public. The war on Christmas officially ended. (We won!) It was ok to be a witch, masturbate, or eat arugula. Peaceful Muslims built mosques, and no one seemed to care (except the peaceful Muslims, who were happy. Also, the guys who work construction and got paid.)
No, John Stewart and Steven Colbert, despite their best efforts, did not succeed in restoring sanity. Instead, the election finally came. As a result, the political advertising stopped. No longer did we have to hear about people being bad for schools/jobs/morals. Now we can go back to hearing about the newest burrito available from Taco Bell and how fuel efficient the new Toyota is. And the country got back to normal.
It was a glorious day throughout the country. People realized that the end of days wasn’t coming. It became evident that no matter who held the levers of power, those people were uninterested in handing the country over to economic oblivion, totalitarianism, or Muslim extremists. Gay people felt comfortable to be out in public. The war on Christmas officially ended. (We won!) It was ok to be a witch, masturbate, or eat arugula. Peaceful Muslims built mosques, and no one seemed to care (except the peaceful Muslims, who were happy. Also, the guys who work construction and got paid.)
No, John Stewart and Steven Colbert, despite their best efforts, did not succeed in restoring sanity. Instead, the election finally came. As a result, the political advertising stopped. No longer did we have to hear about people being bad for schools/jobs/morals. Now we can go back to hearing about the newest burrito available from Taco Bell and how fuel efficient the new Toyota is. And the country got back to normal.
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