A Series Of Firsts - The First Kiss

Ahh, yes, the first kiss. The instant indicator of whether or not a new relationship stands a fighting chance. It’s the tell-all meter as to whether or not there is chemistry between the two of you. It’s that little spark. You anxiously wait for it. You pray for it to be present. Without it, it’s game over. It’s a done deal and you need to move on. You gotta love the mystery of an upcoming first kiss! The anticipation alone can often drive me insane with unbridled desire! Inhibitions? I try to keep them in check, but in the past, they have been known to fly out the window. Sometimes a first kiss lives up to your expectations and sometimes it’s even better than you expected! Perhaps you don’t see rockets and fireworks going off like Bobby Brady, but a good first kiss will leave you feeling a bit woozy. You heart pounds harder. Your palms may start to perspire. You will feel a small flutter in your stomach...and if you’re lucky, a tickle in your pants as well. The best kisses leave you speechless after, and breathless during. And then there are fist kisses that leave you with an incredibly creeped out feeling like you just madeout with your own sister! Those are NOT good first kisses. That relationship is doomed before it has even begun. You can be friends with that girl, but do not date her. Trust me. It will not last. And even if you force yourself to keep kissing her with wishful thoughts that the inbreeding sensation will somehow magically disperse, it won’t happen. That icky feeling will forever remain. God is cruel like that. Learn to spot it, understand it and accept it. Some people just aren’t meant to be more than friends.

Everyone has been there before. That aching question: "Can we be more than friends?" When you are in limbo trying to decide if you should turn a friendship into something more meaningful, a first kiss will do the trick. It will help answer that question and relieve that uncertainty. If nothing else, it is a clear sign of your intentions and where you want the relationship to progress. For some, it’s the first step in the right direction. For others, it’s a giant leap into a state of awkwardness. Is that an elephant in the room or is that just your lackluster kiss lingering on her lips that has left you both dazed and confused? Good luck trying to sidestep thru your embarrassment by talking about the weather.

For guys it’s pretty simple. The moment we lay eyes on girl, we know right then and there if we are sexually attracted to them or not. But for women, sometimes a sexual attraction builds up over a period of time. I’ve known many girls who will date guys who they didn’t immediately find attractive, but as they continued to get to know them, they found that attraction growing. "It’s their personality that makes them sexy", they’ll confess. I guess that just goes to show you that men base an initial attraction on outward appearance, whereas women tend to dig a bit deeper and find that sexual attraction lurking within.

As much as I would like to, I never bought into the theory that men and women can be strictly platonic friends. I think it’s nearly impossible and don’t try to convince me otherwise. If you don’t agree with that statement, you are either dumb, blind, or just terribly naïve. At least one of you is attracted and wants more, or at least has at some point. There is no denying that fact. I can’t speak for women but every guy I know, including myself, has had at least one dirty thought about every last one of his female friends. It’s in our DNA. We are hardwired to be like that. I may not act upon it, but I sure as hell have thought about it. Now perhaps that’s my fault and I should find a new batch of female friends that are less hot. Regardless, I just have a hard time buying into the "we’re just friends" line. The only thing a guy hates hearing more than that "let’s just be friends" line, is a girl trying to convince him that she and Joe Blow are just friends. I find that line incredibly sketchy, but maybe that’s because I’m feeling rather jaded lately and my anger is justified, along with my pessimistic outlook. It is understandable and perhaps that is why I feel so hateful about it. Whatever the case may be, any girl will have a hard time selling the "we’re just friends" line to me right now because I’m just not buying it.

When asked about my first kiss, I drew a blank. I’ve had lots of first kisses, but what about my very first kiss, ever? For the life of me, I couldn’t recall it. Of course the jokes started and implications of me being a manwhore were brought into question as reason being why I am unable to recall my very first kiss. "You can’t remember your first kiss? No surprise there!", she teased. It can’t just be me. Surely others have forgotten their first kiss too? I have a good memory and I recall many firsts in my life, like losing my virginity. Although vivid in my mind, that is a memory I would surely like to forget. But my very first kiss ever, I really had to scratch my brain to come up with the answer. I took a trip down memory lane, all the way back to grade school. The asphalt playground - that is where my first kiss ever took place.

We were in the 2nd grade, or maybe it was the 3rd grade? That part is a little foggy to me, but the little girl’s blue eyes are crystal clear to me, like a cloudless summer day. I can still see them. So innocent and pure. And a total pervert! It was more like a series of kisses. One right after another. Again. And again. And again. The girl was relentless! These days, I probably would enjoy that type of endless pursuit and persistency from a girl. But back then, I was not only embarrassed by it, I was repulsed by it as well. It was like a game to her, try to catch me and kiss me. Everytime she succeed, she would shout the total number of kisses she had accumulated on me. "26! 26 kisses for David! I kissed him 26 times!" She would belly over in a fit of laughter. Those little high pitch screams and girly giggles. She took the utmost delight in turning my face ten shades of red. Obviously I must not have been a very fast runner because I don’t know what my problem was. How could a girl not only catch me, but kiss me that much! She never tired of the game. Even when we would line back up after recess to go back into the school, she would sneak in another! Of course my face resonated my disgust as I deliberately wiped off her wet kisses from my abused cheek. Why did this girl like me so much and why did it bring her so much pleasure when it brought me so much pain? I didn’t like girls then. They had cooties and I didn’t want them touching me, let alone kissing me on the lips or either cheek in serial fashion!

One day I had enough. No more kisses I told myself. I would no longer allow this behavior. I decided to stop running. I stopped dead in my tracks, right by the monkey bars. She nearly barreled into me. And when she saw the easy opening, she leaned in for kiss #5 that day. "Stop it!", I screamed at her. She seemed a bit stunned, although not willing to stop. She proceeded to kiss me anyway and I screamed out again - "I hate you!" Her eyes immediately began to well up, but before a single tear could roll down her round face infront of me, she turned around and ran away. Even at such a young age, I knew I had done something horribly wrong. I was only about 4 feet tall, but I felt smaller than a speck of dirt. How could I blurt out those words? It was beyond cruel. She merely liked me. She had committed no crime. The words "I hate you" should never be words anyone has to hear, especially from someone they like so much.

The next day at recess she didn’t try to kiss me. She didn’t chase me and she didn’t even talk to me. Now it was probably her who hated me! I don’t know where the bravery nor the maturity came from, but I sat down on a swing next to her and told her I was sorry. I told her I don’t really hate her. And then I asked the burning question..."But why do you always have to kiss me?" Her reply was nothing short of absolutely adorable. "Because you’re fun to kiss." It was so simple and so honest. I had nothing to say to that but a big dopey "oh".

***NOTE***
(This post has inspired me to try something new. So you’ll notice I’m starting a series of posts on my blog appropriately labeled "A Series Of Firsts". "The First Kiss" post was the first in that series. In the future, I will also be including my first date, the first time I had sex, my first love, and of course my first heartbreak. I apologize if my first kiss didn’t live up to the steamy story you were hoping it would be. That story would coincide with my best/favorite kiss, although that borderlines on porn and that’s just not something I’m going to get into today. Maybe I’ll save that tale for another time.)

Man Candy

Does this tie make my butt look fat? Or does it just make me look a 6'1 peppermint candy cane? I guess there are worst things in life than looking like Man Candy. I’ll admit, it does look a little "candy striper-ish". From what I’ve learned, it’s not the suit, it’s the combo. It’s just too much together. It’s not the best cell phone photo, but the tie actually has some light gray in it if you look close. I even had a gay dude help me out in picking the combo. I was afraid he might steer me queer, but instead he apparently just failed me all together. When I came home and laid the suit out on my bed, I became nervous when the realization hit me - I’m going to look like a dork! So I posted this photo on my Facebook page looking for a little fashion help. I’m normally a snappy dresser and I’m not just saying that to make myself feel better, it’s true. Those who know me can vouch for that. But like any straight man, I too have moments of despair. I too sometimes need dressed like a Ken doll, minus the plastic blonde wave of course.

I grew up with my own live-in personal stylist, but when my sister moved to California, I lost my fashion guru. So now I’m like a lost puppy. Thankfully though, someone has stepped up and has agreed to take me under her wing. It has been suggested that I could just wear the tie, but wouldn’t that be obscene? JUST the tie...and nothing else? I don’t know about that! I think that may get me arrested.

I originally bought the suit for a meeting with a bunch of old and crusty government guys in DC. I always have to be mindful of what I wear around them because they don’t exactly appreciate the young/trendy look. They stick to the formal basics. Black. Black. White. And maybe if they are feeling crazy, they add navy blue or gray into the mix. So even though red is my favorite, I hate to throw such a bold color at them. Most are old enough to be my father, or rather older than my father, so I wouldn’t want their ticker to stop! They aren’t prepared to handle the splash of red, which really is fine because I’ve seemed to have accumulated a lot of black clothes to fit their taste. Besides, black is classic, you can’t go wrong with it.

So what’s the verdict? Well I kept the suit and ditched the tie. Actually I still have the tie, but I plan on returning it. For my meeting with the boys in Washington, I went with the suit that never fails to bring me good luck and receives a politian’s nod of approval, the black pinstripe three-piece Armani. And it’s a good thing it makes me feel confident because those guys do their best to rattle me and mentally drain me. The sad part, it works. Seriously, the pressure placed upon me is ridiculous and it’s beyond exhausting! I find myself sweating like a whore in church.

I don’t want to dress like pimp or anything. I’m not into the fur hat and diamond encrusted cane assemble. And I’m not into wearing snake and crocodile skin loafers. I don’t feel the need for my wardrobe to look like it’s the product of a massive San Diego Zoo slaying. Most days I’m Pumas and jeans for work, but when I have a meeting, I need to clean up nicely. I don’t mind dressing up. In fact, I sort of enjoyed my last suit fitting. I walked in thinking I need that cute sales girl’s help. I need her to dress me. Although I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to her UNdressing me either! She obliged my request by helping me get fitted. "Take your pants off", she ordered. God, I thought she would never ask! And she didn’t need to tell me twice! I obeyed. She didn’t say it in a sexy/flirty way though. It was more matter of fact, very business-like. That’s fine though. For all I know, she could be jailbait, but I’m guessing she’s in her early 20s. Regardless, I think her grandfather (the little old man who runs the store) would want to kick my ass if I made a move. Although, he is only 5 feet tall and 100lbs soaking wet. So I think I could take him.

Now if I can just figure out how to stop the little old Italian tailor from tossing around my junk when measuring my inseam. I understand you have to "adjust" to get a proper measurement, but does he really need to manhandle my privates that much? It seems a bit excessive and it makes me more than a little uncomfortable. I wouldn’t mind his granddaughter pitching in to help though. Speaking of needing help, I could also use a hand in unraveling the mystery as to why one of my cufflinks always goes M.I.A. when I’m running late in the morning. I hate that! It will go down as one of life’s greatest mysteries, just like the dryer sock disappearance. Whoever solves the mystery as to why dryers eat a single sock during every wash load will surely be awarded the Nobel Prize!

Bareback Barack

I know this is a blog and not a book, but can I add a little preface before I begin this post? In no way am I thinking about our new President barenaked with his naughty bits exposed. Even though I may agree that he is somewhat of a handsome man, I don't want to make sweet manlove to him. Just the thought of that nauseates me. So please don’t misconstrue what I’m about to say. And please know that in no way do I intend on turning this blog into a place where people can come to get tips and how-to guides on how to get laid. What I am about to say is said in a humorous fashion, light hearted and playful in nature. It is not to be taken literally, but it is intended to make you think. I swear this post has a point and while I’m trying to convey that message, I’ll do my best not to sound like a total perv. However, if you know me, that may be a bit difficult to ask of myself. Regardless, let’s begin...

Last week I told you how tech gadgets won’t get you laid. But if tech gadgets won’t get you laid, power will surely do the trick! Think about it. People who are in positions of power have an inherent sexiness to them. It’s that aspect of taking control, taking charge and being fully responsible for the outcome – whether it be good or bad. It’s not just asking people to follow your lead, but actually leading them in the right direction. When you step up, you also have to step your game up. You have to rise to the top and often go far beyond your call of duty. You’re the teacher, the mentor, you are the one who they aspire to be. And in some way, I suppose you could say that positions of power also have a nurturing side to them. People in positions of power often find themselves taking others under their wing and caring for them. We have to help them as much as they help us. We are doers, shapers, thinkers, innovators. The list goes on and on. The higher you climb up the ladder, the more apparent these qualities become. And of course that in turn increases your level of power, thus increasing your sex appeal. Or so they say.

If you don’t believe me, then just try this. Next time you are out and you meet a girl, just tell her you’re a doctor, a lawyer, or a big man on Wall Street and watch how fast she hands over her digits. Sure it’s a lie and lying isn’t nice to do, but this is strictly for experimental reasons. Try it and see. It will prove my point.

You are probably thinking..."David, you are just saying all this stuff because you are the CEO and Founder of a company (although a geeky business it may be) and you are trying to make yourself sound sexier so YOU can get laid more often." To that I would answer..."Well, yes and no." Sure what guy doesn’t like to get laid? And the more often the better! But let me assure you that is NOT the reason why I feel compelled to write this post. I feel compelled to do so because after yesterday’s Inauguration festivities finally came to a close, I started thinking – how sexy must Michelle find Barack now? Put aside for a minute the overwhelming feelings of pride and the outpouring of love she has for him, and how wet must she get for him? Sorry, I know that is supper crass, but not every woman can say she’s fucking the President of The United States! Look at Bill Clinton. Puffy-eyed slick Willy was certainty nothing to look at, but because he was the President of The United States, he had panties dropping left and right for him! I understand many women are attracted to money, but there are many jobs out there that pay far more than being President. So to me that says that it’s more about the power than the money.

Honestly, I don’t want this visual in my head, but Barack had to get the VIP treatment in the White House master bedroom last night. While I may settle for being called "Oh my God" during sex, I would have to think that "Fuck me Mr. President" had to have a nice ring to it when it fell upon Barack’s ears, no?

And while I'm in Washington this week on business, if I happen to pass the President on his first day at the new job, I shall flash him my winning smile and a small wink. He'll know what's up.

Related post of interest...
10/16/08 - I’ll Be Crushed To See Obama Girl Go

Is Obama Already Failing To Deliver, Before Inauguration?

Today is the big day! It’s time to inaugurate the 44th President of The United States! Goodbye Mr. Bush. I can’t say the majority of us are sad to see you go, but I can say that a great deal of people are ecstatic to welcome in President-Elect Barack Obama! Love him or hate him, you have to admit that today is a pretty historic day and one that will be remembered for years to come. You’ll probably read about it in your future kid’s Social Studies textbook. And as you flip thru the pages, you’ll think back to the day that Americans swore in the first black President. I’ve always said you’ll see a black President before we see a woman President and I can now say "told ya so", but that’s not really what today is about. I like to believe it’s about change, more than it’s about color. I like to believe that we can’t fall any deeper into a recession, but rather begin rising back to the top. I like to believe we can find a peaceful solution to all the blood being shed in the Middle East. I like to believe that people won’t just care about the environment for the time being because it’s the "cool" thing to do, but understand it’s the right thing to do and are in it for the long haul, even if it ceases to be "cool" anymore. I like to believe all these things and so much more. I like to believe them because this is what our next President has asked me to believe in. I am hope. However he is a politian, a smooth talking one at that. And we all know politians lie, but can Obama break that mold? Can he speak the truth and deliver on his promises? I sure hope so, but forgive me if I am a bit cynical today. Why am I being David Downer on this monumental day? Well two words for you - puppy promise.

I believe a man should keep his word, especially to his own daughter. And if memory serves me correct, Obama did promise his daughter a puppy if he was elected. Well guess what? He’s been elected President and he’s moving into the White House today, so where’s the puppy? Huh? Huh! Someone answer me that! A promise is a promise and he promised. Dude, I voted for you. Don’t make me question your integrity already! When it comes to politics, I usually find myself more angry than excited over what is going on in Washington. But when Barack Obama came along, I started to get a little excited. I started to listen up more. I started weighing in on all the topics. And even despite the fact he’s going to tax my ass off, I still thought he was the best man for the job...and what a job he has before him! Honestly, who would want that job? For the past 8 years, we’ve been fucked more than Jenna Jamison. There is no doubt about it, our country is a disaster right now! And if Obama thinks he can tackle that mess, he sure can clean up the piss and shit of an 8-week-old puppy. But where is that mysterious puppy anyway?

I understand that picking out the right dog takes some time. You want to make sure you find the perfect match for your family, a pouch that fits your lifestyle. And I understand there are some special circumstances that the Obamas need to take into consideration, like their daughter being allergic. But here’s the thing, Barack Obama says he wants to find a dog that is non-allergenic and is not a "girly dog". I know he’s a smart man, but here’s a news flash for him - there is no such thing as a non-allergenic dog. Sure, people with allergies say they are more tolerant to non-shedding breeds, but it’s not the hair they are allergic to. It’s the skin scales below. Also non-shedding breeds tend to be, as Obama puts it, "girly dogs". Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. Technically the dog is for your daughter and she’s a girl, so who cares if it’s a girly dog? Besides, there’s no reason a man can’t love a girly dog. Take it from me, someone who loved a girly dog for 18 years!

Just like the Obamas, as a kid I wanted a dog in the worst way, but my oldest sister was allergic. My parents were told a Bichon is a non-allergenic dog, so they bought her for me. They were trying to grant my wish, while at the same time, taking my sister’s allergies into consideration. Long story short, my sister was still highly allergic to the dog, but I loved that little fuzzball so much that I found a way to make it work. And if you’re worried you have to get it cut like some fu-fu show dog, don’t be. You can get it groomed in what’s called a "puppy cut", sort of manly right? If not, just get over it. Besides, you’re the President. It’s not like anyone is going to make fun by throwing a shoe at you or anything.

Bottom line...when your daughter asked you if the family could get a dog, your answer was "Yes, we can." So do it already! A promise is a promise. Make history by being the first politian who keeps his promise, starting today.

On a side note, I would like to suggest keeping today’s celebrations on the D-L. If you’re looking to improve the economy, a good place to start would be keeping your big bash a bit low key. I understand you’re kind of a big deal, but it’s also kind of a big deal that half the country has been forced to downgrade from filet minion to Ramen noodles for dinner. And while there are some things I may not approve of, like your bullet proof pimped out Presidential Cadillac Escalade, which is an excessive, gaudy gas guzzler in my opinion...I can understand why you are rolling in it. It’s probably that whole "buy American made cars" crap statement you are trying to make, right? You know my strong distaste for American cars, but you’re the President and not me. So roll around in what you want. However, I must say that I like the fact that you are turning the red carpet green - recycling it after. And as a fellow geek, I like the fact that you are STILL holding onto your Blackberry. From what I hear, they will need to pull it from your dead lifeless grip!

Just please remember this, today is the end of fun as you know it! So I’m glad you vacationed in Hawaii, played some golf, had gone surfing, etc. I say party it up while you can because when today’s celebration ends and you find yourself sitting down at your desk in the Oval Office for the first time, it’s real. You will be in charge on an entire nation! And if you thought cleaning up dog poo is a crappy job, you have no idea what is in store for you! Yes, you’ll be cleaning up shit, and lots of it. Shit you didn’t create, but shit you have to make clean again. It’s very much like being a pet owner. However, you are going to miss out on the best part. Because you failed to get that new puppy for your daughter on Move In Day, you will not have that soft furry head by your side. You won’t have the luxury of that calming pet to sooth you when times get tough and you are stressed to the max. You won’t have that happy wag, that gentle lick or those big brown eyes staring up at you. To him, you aren’t the President, you’re his best friend. The next 4 years are going to be rough! Couldn’t you use a best friend?

I’m Up For Another Award! - "Top 10 Gen Y Blog"

I know this is kind of last minute, but I just found out myself today about the nomination! Ryan Stephens from RyanStephensMarketing.com is putting together a list of the Top 10 blogs from Gen Y bloggers. The blogs are selected and then critiqued in 5 main areas...

1. CONTENT
2. Frequency of updates
3. Valuable and interesting links (embedded or in the blogroll)
4. Aesthetic (i.e navigation, functionality, and to some extent looks)
5. Ability to incite conversation, thought-provoking comments/discussion

Right now he is having trouble narrowing down the list of blogs to just 10. So he has posted links to all 35 nominated blogs and is asking you to help him choose who makes the final Top 10 list! Unlike some of the previous blog awards I’ve been up for, ANYONE can vote on this one. All you need to do is pick 5 blogs from the below nomination list that you think are the best Top 10 Gen Y Blogs. Then e-mail that list to Ryan no later than January 20, 2009. His e-mail is ryanstephensmarketing@gmail.com

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Top 10 Gen Y Blogs Ballot

Personal Branding Blog
Employee Evolution
Millennial Leaders Y Blog
I Will Teach You To Be Rich
Hard Knox Life
College Mogul
PR Interactive
Hoehn’s Musings
Ben Casnocha
The Creative Career
The Rest is Still Unwritten
People Sales
Newly Corporate
Guru Gilbert
Young and Frugal
Driven Leaders
Two Notes Ahead
Young Go Getter
The Office Newb
Gen Pink
Politicoholic
The Millennium Marketer
Modite
Work Love Life
Tiffany Monhollon
The Marketing Student
Keep Up With Me
Results Junkies
Life Before Noon
Fake Plastic Noodles
Honey and Lance
De Deviant
Water Cooler
The Mad Grad
Pipe Dreams and Professions
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Of course I would love it if you vote for me, but if you don't want to vote at all, that's fine too. If nothing else, I just gave you a list of 35 new blogs worthy of checking out.

You can read more about this contest at...
http://ryanstephensmarketing.com/blog/top-10-gen-y-blogs-new-years-edition

Apparently this was posted on January 1st, so I’m a little late on spreading the word. I apologize for that. However, I want to thank Elle for e-mailing to inform me that not only was this going on, but that I was included on the list of nominees!

Hurry, you only have a few days left to vote! Polls close this Tuesday, 1/20/09.

CES ’09 - Gadgets That Will Get You Laid

My favorite geek event of the year, CES (Consumer Electronic show), was in Las Vegas again this past weekend unveiling 2009’s slew of gadget goodies. For a tech-whore like myself, CES is my belated Christmas. Walking into CES actually does make me feel like a kid on Christmas morning. I look around all glossy-eyed with electronic "toys" as far as the eye can see, not knowing where to start! There are literally thousands of new products and I want to play with them all! Seriously, few things excite me more than tech gadgets. It’s an obsession, a sickness of mine. I just can’t get enough. Sadly though, I could not make it to this year’s CES. I had to go to that stupid place called work instead of getting to tinker with cool digital devices - boo. I didn’t pout though and I didn’t sulk. If I couldn’t be at the show, then I was bringing the show to me. I was going to follow all 4 glorious days of CES coverage via the web. Now even though this post is titled "CES - Gadgets That Will Get You Laid", there are few gadgets in this world that can do just that. Because let’s be honest, 99% of women don’t care about tech gadgets. Some sleek little wireless router that does everything except walk my dog may seem orgasmic to me, but to most women, they couldn’t care less. "What’s a router?", they’ll ask. I’ll roll my eyes and walk away because they just don’t understand how sexy it is. However, there are some exceptions in this world, that remaining 1%. That rare breed of woman that actually does understand the pulling power of a data encrypted self-destructing thumb drive. And in that small remaining 1% of women, few are as hot or as tech obsessed as my girl Meghan, who can be seen below hugging (or depending on how you look at it – humping) the CES world logo from last year’s event.

For those of us tech obsessed, the free swag bag given out at CES is like a mini bag of porn! (Which is rather ironic because the Adult Entertainment Expo takes place right next door to CES every year. Warning! NSFW - Link contains adult content.) Pop it open and the drooling begins! To me, it might as well be Santa’s bag of goodies. An iTunes card, free software, Blu-ray movies, a Bluetooth headset, an underwater digital camera, the list goes on and on. Of course the majority of women would just shrug their shoulders. No biggie to them. They would not revel in the same delight that I do. Instead they would toss that to the side and opt for a swag bag consisting of Manolo Blahnik shoes, a Burberry scarf and a small turquoise blue box from Tiffany & Co. That’s their idea of "gadgets". That’s fine though. To each their own.

Guys I know you are wondering and anxiously awaiting. Just tell me what gadgets will get me laid! That’s what you want to know, right? Well, as I said earlier, probably none. So why did I title my post "CES - Gadgets That Will Get You Laid"? Well, would you have wanted to read it if it was titled "CES - Gadgets Won’t Get You Laid"? Where’s the teaser in that? That won’t lure you in. I know. I’m sorry. That was a sick and evil trick on my part. Now if you want to get laid, your best bet is to forget trying to woo her with your 60inch HDTV. She’s just not interested. However, you may get a lil play if you go the route of an unexpected well thought out gift, some properly placed compliments, perhaps flowers, maybe a heartfelt letter, taking her on a totally original date. I could keep going on, but you get the idea. Of course I don’t guarantee you’ll get laid, but it certainly can’t hurt your chances. One thing I can guarantee you is that you’ll kill your chances of every getting laid in your lifetime with this...

If you’re a guy who loves tech gadgets, then lean in close because you’ll want to hear every word I'm about to say! I can tell you what the #1 gadget from CES '09 that you should stay away from. Far, far away from...unless of course your goal is becoming a 40-year-old virgin. It is certain to NOT make panties drop. In fact, I’m positive it will be such a mood killer to a woman that she will actually get up and run away from you! Yes, it’s that serious. I’m talking about the LG GD910 Wrist Watch Phone. If you thought those digital LCD/calculator watches from the 80s were bad, you ain’t seen nothing yet! I love almost all tech gadgets, but this watch would actually make me lose an erection. So I can only imagine how much it would turn a girl off!

I know LG was going for the cool James Bond wannabe spy image, but there is nothing cool about this product. As a kid, I wanted to grow up to be 007, but there is no way in hell I would ever let this watch touch my skin! I can hear Sean Connery mocking it in disgust. The LG GD910 Wrist Watch Phone is more than just a watch and phone combo. Besides being touch-screen and water resistant, it has about a bazillion other features jammed in it. It’s also an mp3 player, has a camera, built-in Bluetooth, speech recognition, video calling capability, 3G Internet access, stop me when you heard enough. Oh, and I think it tells time? Not sure though. So what isn’t it? Well it’s not an aphrodisiac, that’s for sure.

Dare to wear this watch and 3 words will go thru your date’s head. And they aren’t: "I want you." They are: "You fucking nerd." Her next sentence will contain just 4 words - "Get away from me." Not exactly the smooth sailing path to getting you laid now is it?

Steve Jobs Obituary Accidentally Published - Oopsie

What would you do if you were declared dead, but not actually dead? It may sound like the storyline of your average run-of-the-mill, low budget horror flick. Actually it sounds like my unscripted life a couple years ago when I was struck by a drunk driver on my sportbike and declared dead on the scene. Fortunately for me and a few others, despite being declared dead, we are actually alive and kicking! Such is the case for Apple CEO Steve Jobs. After being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2003, Steve Jobs seemed to be doing well - looking healthy and carrying on with his Mac duties. However, in recent months, rumors began swarming about his rapid decline in health. Photos shot from 2007-2008 show two very different Steve Jobs. One of a healthy and robust Jobs. And the other of a frail and gaunt Jobs. The media began reporting that the Apple CEO was most likely looking to retire due to health issues. Of course Apple fans took that as a sign that his cancer had returned and Steve Jobs was dying! Shortly after, a Steve Jobs obituary was published!

The story, marked "Hold for release - Do not use", was sent in error to thousands of corporate clients. The stock obituary was published momentarily after a routine update by a reporter and was immediately deleted. The obituary, which has been obtained by a US gossip blog, contained blank spaces for Jobs’s age and cause of death to be inserted. The opening sentence described Jobs as the man who "helped make personal computers as easy to use as telephones, changed the way animated films are made, persuaded consumers to tune into digital music and refashioned the mobile phone." The 2,500-word piece also included praise for Jobs from his rival Microsoft boss Bill Gates, details of his rise from college drop-out to technology billionaire, and a list of his family survivors.

Bloomberg, which was founded by New York mayor Michael Bloomberg and prides itself on its accuracy and transparency, later published a note acknowledging the story's retraction on its wire. The message read..."An incomplete story referencing Apple Inc. was inadvertently published by Bloomberg News. The item was never meant for publication and has been retracted." A Bloomberg spokeswoman said: "This was a routine update of a biography by the obits department, meant for the internal system and not meant for publication. It was momentarily posted on the external wire, in error, and immediately deleted."

Jobs has been reluctant to publicly discuss his health, but recently denied claims that his cancer had returned. And today I want to set the record straight. I want to squash all the rumors and let you know exactly why Steve Jobs has lost so much weight, why he was a no-show for Macworld this year, and whether or not it’s true that he will be leaving Apple. These are the facts...

Steve Jobs is undergoing treatment for a "hormone imbalance" discovered as the cause of his mysterious weight loss, although he will continue to lead Apple as CEO. He decided to not attend Macworld this year to focus on getting his health back on track. Other than that, he is doing just fine. So no, Steve Jobs is not dead and is not dying. In a letter published on Apple’s website, Jobs said he was taking the unusual step in discussing his condition, because of the flurry of rumors about his health and stories being published about him on his deathbed.

In closing, Jobs had this to say..."I will be the first one to step up and tell our board of directors if I can no longer continue to fulfill my duties as Apple's CEO. I hope the Apple community will support me in my recovery and know that I will always put what is best for Apple first."

I for one wish him nothing but the best and hope he gets well soon. Long live Steve Jobs! And long live the iMac, the iPod, and the iPhone. I wish no harm to Steve Jobs, but I do wish death on his patent black mock turtleneck. A mock turtleneck? Seriously? Didn't they stop selling those things back in 1989? Sorry Steve, but it's time to put that shirt to bed. You may be a geek at heart, but you still have a cool guy image to uphold.

***UPDATE***
As of 1/14/09, Steve Jobs has announced he is taking a medical leave of absence from Apple. The leave is only temporary until his health improves, but many are saying there is a good chance he will not return to Apple.

Most Distinct Voice

Yours truly has been nominated and is now a finalist for "Most Distinct Voice" in the Twenty-Something Bloggers Awards! (20SB Forum, 20SB Blog) It's quite the virtual honor, especially considering that in the past I have been guilty of having a stupid mouth, something I'm ashamed of. But having a distinct voice is something I can feel proud of! I've always been told I possess a very unique writing style, so I suppose a distinct voice would just go hand-and-hand with that? I hate shameless plugs and self-promotion, but I'm afraid I have to do it. Why? Because I want to win! I'm a competitive freak and I'm asking for you to just indulge me for the moment. So if it's not too much trouble, show me a lil love by voting for me (my blog) for "Most Distinct Voice". I will be forever grateful and in debt to you.

You can cast your vote here...
http://www.surveygizmo.com/s/94298/bootleg-finalist

The poll closes on January 19, 2009 and winners will be announced shortly after!

Survived New Year's Eve Bomb And Lived To Blog About It

You could say that the New Year came in with a bang for me, literally. I suppose no matter what happens in 2009, good or bad, I should be thankful that I actually made it alive to see 2009! If I had known my New Year's holiday snowboard trip to Aspen was going to receive bomb threats, perhaps I would have taken the time to make a New Year’s resolution list. Of course the only item on that list would be - to make it out of 2008 alive. If I added anything else below that item, it would just seem rather superficial and meaningless. Really, what would be the point? One of my unspoken/unwritten New Year’s resolutions is to land myself a girlfriend. But if I were a cold stiff corpse, I would need to a girlfriend who is into necrophilia. And that’s just not very sexy, or legal. All of these bomb threats lately have me wondering though. Am I meant to die via a bomb? I have to say it’s rather odd that I seem to be constantly dodging them. Once in NYC, once in Regan National Airport, once in my office and now in Aspen. Umm, is there something God is trying to tell me? I don’t know, but I do know one thing, I’m glad the Aspen bomber killed himself before he killed anyone else. He’s a sick fuck. A crazy old man. A child’s sled full of bombs disguised as Christmas gifts! Who does that! A crazy fuck, that’s who. Apparently when the news broke, the story was all over CNN. So if you haven’t heard about it yet, here is a brief summary...

According to police, a man in Aspen, Colorado delivered bombs wrapped as Christmas presents to two banks on New Year’s Eve. Along with the bombs, there was a note threatening "mass death" if they did not turn over tens of thousands of dollars. The note read: "You had better be a very cool individual and not start a panic or many in Aspen will pay a horrible price in blood." Repeatedly using the word "we," as though a group of people were behind the plot, the obscenity-filled note described a bomb filled with "unique chemicals and electronics" and demanded that $60,000 in hundred-dollar bills be handed over in 20 minutes outside the bank. The note also refers to the Iraq war and describes President Bush as "Rove's and Chaney's [sic] monkey." It also goes on to state that "This is as much a suicide mission as a bank robbery." (Read the full letter here.)

Authorities were quickly alerted, and the man apparently halted his plan, leaving two bombs that were intended for other banks in an alley on a plastic sled. Authorities ordered the evacuation of a 16-block area of Aspen on New Year's Eve, one of the busiest nights of the year for the resort town, after the bombs were found. Bomb squads ultimately detonated the devices and no one was injured. The man, identified as James Blanning, age 72, had had previous run-ins with law enforcement. He was later found dead after apparently shooting himself. His body was found in his car in a rural area east of Aspen.

We weren’t allowed to return until 4am, well after the big New Year’s ball dropped. So instead of champagne toasts and midnight kisses, we brought in the New Year in a state of panic. Well, maybe not panic since we were out of harm’s way, but concern. Even though we had to forgo our fireworks display over the snow capped mountains that night, all the town festivities were rescheduled for the next day, including the fireworks. Actually it wasn’t that bad afterall. If nothing else, New Year’s Eve ’08 will definitely be a memorable one for me! So despite the "snow bomber" (as I’ve nicknamed him), I had a blast in Aspen – no pun intended. It’s ridiculously beautiful there, probably one of the most breathtaking places I’ve ever been. And as you can see from the small sampling of my photo gallery below, when I’m determined to have a good time, not even a bomb can ruin it for me.

Romantic and cozy, right? I think it would make a nice proposal spot.
They offer horse-drawn sleigh rides as well as the carriages.

Fireworks over Aspen Mountain on January 1, 2009.

Meet my shadow. I met this kid while snowboarding and we exchanged a little playful smack talk.
As you can see by the look upon his face, he can dish it out better than he can take it.

I will say this though, this latest bomb scare had me doing a little soul searching once I returned home. I hate the fact that it takes a death to snap some life back into me. I hate the fact that something tragic needs to occur before I realize how quickly it all can be taken away from me. And I hate the fact that I need to be rattled until not only do I finally recognize, but actually do something about all those things that should be said that never are. So I used this new "awakening" of mine to do just that. To say the things that needed to be said. I sat down and wrote a letter, a long one. One that I didn't think twice about proofreading. I focused not on my sentence structure and grammar, but on the words themselves. I just got it all out. I didn't think about what I said, I just said how I truly felt. All that junk inside of me that has been running thru my head for the past month, I let it flow. I wrote her a letter. And then I sent it, no longer hesitating if I should or shouldn't say something. I said what needed to be said. That night, for the first time in a long time, I finally slept a little more soundly.

Happy 4th Blogiversary To You, My Sweet Beloved Blog

It’s that time again. A new year and yet another anniversary - my Blogiversary. Believe it or not, I’ve stuck with this writing thing for 4 straight years now! If someone would have told me back on 1/1/05 that I would be still blogging into 2009, I would have said bullshit. In the past I’ve always had a tendency to start a fresh notebook with all these good writing intentions on January 1st, only to find myself relapsing in the written word after a few short weeks at best. But here I am, still writing, 4 years and over 850 posts later. Maybe it has something to do with the neat and tidy virtual notebook format known as the blog that keeps me writing. I am my own worst critic, so to me, my chicken scratch handwriting leaves little to be desired. Although on a computer, my spacing is perfect! My letters are impeccable! My writing becomes legible, clean and without flaw. To me, that is inviting. That makes me want to write more. So I did just that, day after day, post after post. Before I knew it, 4 years had passed.

Don’t get me wrong, the handwritten letter is still a beautiful thing and a dying art in my eyes. It possesses more character than an e-mail, but let’s be honest, this digital stuff is pretty damn convenient! Besides, my blog and I have been entangled in an ongoing electronic love affair for 4 years now! I can't just dump with her like that. She has seen me with the flu. She has seen me with a broken heart. She has seen it all and been there for it all. I've even blogged in my underwear before (and no you can't have photos)! If that isn't the definition of a comfortable relationship, I don't know what is! Now that's love. This isn't some fling or a one night stand. This has evolved over time, like a childhood friendship turned to teenage romance. It's deep. It's meaningful. It has become a part of me. She knows my inner most thoughts and deepest, darkest secrets. I pour my heart out to her on a continuous basis. I care not what she thinks, but revel in how she makes me feel, or rather allows me to feel. She's accepting of who I truly am, both the beautiful and ugly parts that define me. She gives me an outlet to freely express myself, to get it all out on paper. Anna Nalick sang it best with this lyric...

"If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud"

Now what? Well I don’t know. I guess I should just grow old and disgusting with my blog? I should keep writing until it ceases to bring me pleasure? I should put this freelance writing dream of mine into action? I should...I really don’t know how to complete that sentence. Unlike most people with their list of New Year’s Resolutions, I think I am going to find my way as I go thru 2009. I’m not going to define my goals from the get-go, but rather let them evolve over time. I’m going to enjoy the ride and see where it takes me. I realize that sounds like the lazy way out, but for me, writing is one of those things that if it fails to bring me joy, I simply won’t do it anymore. Writing has always been fun for me and when it starts to feel more like a chore than something I reward myself with at the end of a long day, I will put down my pen.

So I now ask that you raise your glass, and a pen with me, to help toast to my 4th Blogiversary and to a New Year as well. Here’s to a new President, hopefully a better economy, family, friends, fun, love, good health and a happy life! Did I cover the basics? If not, you can add your own.

***NOTE***
(You have a good eye if you noticed this post is predated to January 1st, but I didn’t really write it and publish it until January 4th. My reasoning - it’s lame to celebrate your Blogiversary four days late. So pretend its still New Years day. Thanks. Also for those waiting to hear how I was almost killed on New Years Eve in Aspen due to some freak with a sled full of bombs disguised as Christmas presents, I will deliver that post shortly.)