Count Smackula

“The emptiest of feelings
Disappointed people clinging on to bottles
And when it comes it's so so disappointing
Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground” Let Down – Radiohead

Wouldn’t it be awesome if people came with microchips that we could scan and were loaded with a sort of Wikipedia rundown of the person, or even like Amazon customer reviews?

“**---This girl has obvious daddy issues, but she is always well prepared and rocks in bed. She’s fun but doesn’t bathe nearly enough. She also lets her dog stick his tongue in her mouth. I gave her two stars because she is reliable, prompt, and has nice nostrils.”

Forewarned is forearmed right? It would be so nice to opt out of so much time and experiences with someone to find out the ugly side. Howz abouts some hints up front? Yes please!

Reliable.

I’m the type that when I say I’m going to do something, I DO IT. If for some reason I absolutely cannot, I profusely apologize and tongue kiss you until forgiven (unless we’re related).

“MAYBE” is such a fantastic word, I wish people would use it more. “Maybe I’ll show up to practice”, “Maybe if we still know each other we’ll be doing Halloween together”, or “Maybe when I come visit, I’ll take you to that restaurant.” I HATE people that say they’re going to do something and then don’t and aren’t even remotely in touch with an apology or accountability. “MAYBE” could’ve prevented a lot of ills for me.

Can anyone be counted on anymore? Culpability must be the uncoolest thing there is because humans would rather drown in oblivion than peer in the direction of this type of honesty.

In relationships, if the female early on says anything future related, dudes flip out and bail, even if the girl is just talking about next week. Girls, however, tend to think a guy really digs them if they talk in future tense, depending on what and when. I had only known one guy a few hours and he was like “I can see us living together.” I saw myself dedicating my life to Yugoslavian worm research before I could process his vision, so yeah, yikes times ten.

I had one guy actively pursue me, and when he spoke in future terms, I stupidly bought into it and oh how I hateth myself for that (not as much as I hate him though). When someone talks that way, it tricks you into thinking they’re someone you can count on – they'll be there for you, even in the future. Because of that experience, my trust levels are shakier than Michael J. Fox after a Starbucks run. Now if someone even hints “us” beyond a week, I tell them to cease, desist, and to please incorporate “MAYBES” until we are a thing, if it’s going that way.

Guys don’t talk future until you’ve been naked with a girl at least five times, please. You can get laid without such maneuvers and if you no likey afterwards, you can’t be hated for misleading the witness. Capiche?

Everyone else, if you commit to anything and can’t back it up, fucking apologize already. It’s the very least you can do. Acknowledgment of the other person’s feelings IS a big deal.

Recognize.

Emo Scarfish

“How can I? How can I?
How can I make my body shed for you
How can I? How can I?
How can I make my body shed around your metal scars?
Loretta's scars, Loretta's scars, Loretta's scars”
Loretta’s Scars – Pavement

I was hanging out with some teenage boys a couple of weeks ago, and they were good guys, but I felt bad for them because they have an abusive, religious dad and a wicked step-Cunt that take the act of deception to the sickest of levels.

Their background story is so sad that even the folks at Lifetime would be like “Please stop, really even we can’t…just stop!”

The one is going to be 16 soon and this week he found that horrific place that we all do with someone at some point. That place where things between you and some Fuckface are beyond repair. He had tried to talk to his dad about easing up and was shut down for the last time. Now he’s sentenced to a life of listening to Staind and an unforgettable feeling of not being heard when it’s needed most (which is nearly as excruciating as being subjected to Staind).

Emotional scarring, in my opinion, happens when a Fuckface reaches in and breaks off a part of you that they don’t caress, value, or nurture. No they look at you, smile, and then shatter that part into 472,000 pieces. Poof, it’s dead. Maybe it’s your spirit that’s sapped or your humor (mine has been decimated in the last two years), but you can never go back to how it was before (if you can, then by all means please tell me how). Beyond repair.

There’s a void when parts die and we humans try our damnedest to shove squares where only circles belong. Fame, alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, food, sex, and what have you will never feel as good as the missing part did (imitation crab ya dig?). I wonder if the parts are originally stolen because the Fuckface in question had so many of their own missing that maybe they thought a part of another could make them whole again. Is it an unconscious act, or are they just plain evil?

Beyond repair?

Maybe we can pretend we’re starfish and grow our parts back?

Expensively Free

“I want you to know
He's not coming back
Look into my eyes
It's the only way you'll know I'm telling the truth
So knives out” Knives Out – Radiohead

The truth is like a crime scene; no entry without latex gloves or they aren’t allowed anywhere near it’s fragile state. It’s messy and few have the stomach for it. Many have to make rank and show brevity to handle truth, but even then you can only take so much, I suppose.

Everybody says they want the truth, but only in theory. When confronted with it, most often stagger and stammer as if they were just told that the word “the” was removed from all of language.

“Honest to a fault”. In some ways that’s me. I know how to compartmentalize truth, as in not revealing everything just because it’s true, but I also can’t pretend shit didn’t happen when it did.

I was willing to have a go at it, but I foresaw an outcome that didn’t benefit anyone, especially me. I let some truth slip out that I swore would never be revealed, but it was in anger and I partly regret it. I didn’t need to explain myself to the ears that heard it, but somehow there was relief in finally putting it out into the ether.

It’s been a tough year for me, I’ve not written about all my truths. Some were life changing. One felt like it was life stopping. Well, life as I knew it stopped, but when I accepted it, it resolved itself. The exit of this issue was just as harsh as the entrance, and though I’m relieved on a thousand levels, I find myself in days of grief concerning it too. I know the pain of swallowing truth before it’s properly chewed, but I feast on it anyways.

The misery of lying is something I consistently write about. Maybe I’m a little hardass when it comes to this human oddity (my cat never lies to me – the one, the other not only lies, she also specializes in extortion), but I think it’s because I know too much. I did some pre-law in college where you basically learn to lie or catch someone in one. I read scads of books on the “tells” and body language. I love shows like “Law & Order CI” where Donofrio’s character is the consummate behaviorist or “Lie To Me”, which is all about the facial expressions in liars.

I wonder if I’ll always be alone because of this as it’s fascinating till you realize how much people lie, then it jades you.

I confronted one of the worst liars ever a few hours ago. He embraced every pitfall like he was trying out for the lying Olympics. Never before have I wanted to believe someone so badly but knew it was futile. The “tells” told on him.

The truth shall set you free. You’ll be hated, but free.

Thinkies

“You'd say I'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind” I’m So Tired - The Beatles

I know I should be asleep and I am tired, but when I know I have to get up, THAT’S when I definitely cannot sleep. The clock just stabbed my eyes with it’s 4 hour countdown warning.

I can’t sleep when I’m excited and I’m in anticipation mode where my brain can’t shut the fuck up. It’s odd the things that bounce through Thoughtland when one gets like this.

Tonight my thinkies are about how much I hate musicals and theatrical productions. I used to live by Times Square in NYC near the Theatre District, but would’ve considered an evening of waterboarding accompanied by some staple gun art to the tops of my feet over sitting through a Broadway production.

I would much prefer to watch someone break into my house with ill intent than witness some overly happy gaggle of dancing idiots break into song on a stage. I really just can’t fathom how people find this entertaining at all.

I don’t hate all plays, but I’m not a huge fan of those either. I love movies, so long as they aren’t musicals. Grease being the only exception, as for some reason 30 something year olds passing themselves off as high school students is way too funny to be irritating.

Performers that have back up dancers cut it too close to musicals. I wonder what it is about choreographed dancers and singers that bugs the shit out of me?

The only thing worse than sitting through one of these events is an awards show celebrating such things. I have never watched the “Tony” awards show, and I hope I never meet anyone that has.

Ouch, three and half hours and counting.

Necky

Above: My neck & my bestie D.


“My neck, my back
Lick my ... just like that” My Neck, My Back - Khia

Isn’t it strange how much certain body parts have standards of beauty, yet others go on ignored? Long legs, broad shoulders, muscles, breasts, butts, feet, but you never hear of anyone having an elbow or eyelid fetish. Well, you may have, but not I.

I wouldn’t say I have a “fetish” per se, but I have things that inspire an appearance of the old horns, I must say. I loves me some shaggy hair, piercing eyes, super skinny body, but more than anything I like a long, almost birdlike neck. Maybe I was a horny ostrich in a former life, but I so dig that Ichabod Crane looking neck with a prominent Adam’s Apple. Fat or super muscular dudes don’t have these (unless they’re hiding under years of steroidal use or Chocodiles) but they creep me out anyways.

Elongated necks to an extreme are revered in some African and Asian cultures where heavy steel rings actually weigh down the collarbone and ribs till the wearer looks like E.T. . That is not something I would ever subscribe to or recommend, unless you have virtually NO neck, which I do find sort of creepy too.



The culture I grew up in isn’t into that Ubangi look, but we do like a nice long neck on our dancers, models, etc. Short-necked women are obsolete in ballet, but are prevalent in the sports world as are a plethora of short, thick necked men, and oddly enough film portrays most monsters and creepy villains with those same type of guys.





My favorite film neck belongs to the sexiest man on the planet, Cillian Murphy.




The hottest looking neck in the music world definitely sits below the head of Johnny Greenwood of Radiohead (best everything else belongs to Damian Kulash of OK Go, mmmmm).



I like all things neck related, not just kissy stuff, I love neck massages, singing, I occasionally make my own chokers with buffalo bone beads, and when I was younger I was really into vampire movies, books, and whatnot. I think necks are beautiful and it’s a damn shame that they’re the one thing you can’t surgically repair when age kicks in. You can Botox and stretch your eyebrows back to your ass, but the neck is yet to be savable.

The "waddle" is inevitable, unless you die young.

Honest Cheat?

“I don’t wanna be your friend
I just wanna be your lover
No matter how it ends
No matter how it starts” House of Cards - Radiohead


I’ve never cheated on anyone I was seeing, but I have kissed some dudes that were in relationships with others, and I think the last guy I was with had a girlfriend. I can’t be sure but I do know when I was taking a grand tour of him with my tongue he said something to the effect of “I’m not used to being with someone that’s not my girlfriend”. This could’ve been taken a few different ways but I’m sensitive and completely shut down when there is even the slightest mention of another girl if I’m next to you naked.

My ego bruises easily and I refuse to hide that fact, but I think I do stupid things because I don’t know how to be when it does happen. I would’ve also have preferred to know beforehand that the cheater was cheating with me. Not even for the guilt factor, but self preservation. Knife wielding girlfriends are not worth a little slip n’ slide with just anyone, and I also don’t want to get too cozy with someone I can’t be with again. That’s just how I’m built.

Guilt can factor in depending on the specs of the situation. For one, if both members of the couple in question are under 25 and the guy is just someone I’m physically into but not boyfriend material, I’m ok as long as I’m well schooled on the truth up front. 90% of all couples getting together before the age of 25 break up when the guy hits that mark or 29. If either of them are over 25 or I know the other party, I’m not willing to consider any sort of arrangement.

I don’t know if I would actually do it, but because I’m so geographically challenged and don’t really meet guys I dig mentally, I can’t say I wouldn’t. I hate going months or years (yes have done that) without affection. It’s horrible, but I also own that it’s my fault that I’m picky and don’t know how to deal with what this area has to offer. Anything penis related that my eyes can be talked into has a built in lying mechanism that doesn’t have an “off” switch. Not the typical lying shit (women, drugs, etc.), they lie about everything. It’s near to the point of comical, but loses it’s novelty when you realize it’s a local phenomenon. I’ve only lived in Michigan, DC, and NYC besides here, but never have I witnessed the scale of lies that epically emerge from this locale.

The inherent dishonest factor seems like it would prevent the cheater from giving me the proper low down so it’s almost crazy for me to think this would ever occur. The honest cheat? Can you imagine an admitted liar? I think I would sort of like someone that told me they honestly lie all the time, well at least for ten minutes.

I don’t cheat, but I lie when I’ve been served one first. I never miss when I hit one back either.