Who The Hell Is Herb Trimpe?

I've decided this would be a fun story idea. I was talking with a friend of mine about who cancelled at the Expo other than Tahmoh Penikett, and it was Herb Trimpe. We asked, "who the hell is Herb Trimpe?" and I just knew that had to be the title of an indie film.

I figure it is about a high school senior that is unknown to his graduating year and he needs to make an impression before the last few weeks of school are out.

Part of me wants to rename it already to "Who The Hell Is Thomas Trimpe?" but I worry that the alliteration is too similar to "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?"

My next best ideas are: "Where Can I Find Freddie French?" about a guy and his first job as a hitman, "When Do We Meet Henry Hamm?" about a lost tour group trying to meet a legendary film maker, and "Why Bradley Brown?" about the fall of an underdog who already rose to the top.

God's Playbook

So, I've been thinking about God and what a total bastard He is. I mean this in the most endearing way possible, because, quite frankly, He's good at what he does. He especially likes to fuck with me when it comes to the ladies. If they're not married or leaving me for someone else or disappearing completely or giving me the bait and switch or just completely reluctant, there is always something else God will think of to make my life miserable.

However, He hasn't directly played the lesbian angle. This really surprises me. Perhaps it is entirely too much of a roadblock for me. If a girl is a lesbian then there is no reason whatsoever that we should be together, so the problem is solved before it starts.

But what I really have here is a challenge for God. Yes, you heard me. I challenge you, God.

Send to me one gorgeous bisexual girl to which I will connect on a multitude of levels, wait for me to fall for her, then pull the rug out (to fit with your style, far after it is way too late to go back; probably after a number of occasions of one or more levels of intimacy) and have her ex-girlfriend move back from LA and have the girl (who is now so emotionally open with me that she is comfortable talking to me about something like this) tell me that she wants her girlfriend back. You'll put me in a tough spot and even if I do try and sabotage things, have the ex-girlfriend want the girl back too, so there is nothing I can do. Then put me in the spot of the supportive best friend of a girl I am emotionally intimate with and her equally attractive girlfriend. Now, remember, the key to the success of this plan is that the girls must be completely monogamous. No threesomes. Unless you have a really good followup for that one. I'll let you play around with that one.

God has thrown everything else at me, and this would be the ultimate miserable, torturous situation. If it doesn't happen, logically I can conclude that lesbians are not in God's Playbook.

That's my challenge to you, God.


P.S. We both know who would be a perfect candidate. The history only compounds things. Well, there would be two great candidates, but I don't know if you have lesbification powers.

Blue

I'm doing my laundry and, boy, do I wear a lot of blue...

Just an observation.

We're paying for WHAT?!

Apparently we've been paying for sex-change operations for years! Now, I need to come right out and say this now: I am not opposed to people having these operations. You want to be a girl? Be a girl. You want to be a boy? Be a boy. Gender isn't as restrictive as it used to be and we should be free to take advantage of that without prejudice. That being said, why the fuck are we paying for it?! I'm no mathematician, but 18-70G per operation times roughly 20 people a year is anywhere from $360 000 to $1.4 million dollars every year. Forget programs to reintegrate the homeless into society. Fuck updating highschool textbooks from the 60s. Hell, let's ignore hiring more police or funding hospitals' emergency care. Marc wants to become Marcy and we need to pay for him/her to do it.

I understand that nowadays that isn't exactly a backbreaking amount of money for the government, but there are plenty of other things we could be spending that money on! Not to mention, why do I have to pay for other people to change the way they are because they're not satisfied with their body? I don't pay people to go to the gym. I don't pay people to eat properly. I don't pay for people to shop. The bottom line is that I don't pay for other people's vanity (unless we're going out...). So why is it so important that we "reassign" people their genders?

If you want to do it, go ahead and do it. But don't be looking for a handout. Especially not now.

Getting older

I never really understood how people could be unable to say the things they want to say to someone they're comfortable with even though the simple logic of it is that you say what you mean to that person because you care about them, you respect them, and if you don't say anything how will they know? But it's days like this that make me feel like Humphrey Bogart, only not in an awesome way. More like a sissy Humphrey Bogart.

Bogie could say "I miss you." I can't.

Girls are like Subatomic Particles

I can't decide whether they are more like protons or electrons...

Like electrons, they historically go one way, but in reality go the opposite way. Also, they are attracted to protons, but always keep a distance by moving. And finally, like electrons, you can't keep track of a girl.

However, girls are also like protons. They hang around in clusters and prefer the company of neutrons; the "support" particles that are otherwise useless and might as well be protons themselves without the properties of protons. Electrons swarm around protons at various and complicated levels away from them and, given the right motivation, can jump from level to level.



My final thoughts...
This is the kind of thing science nerds think about. They draw similarities between scientific fact and incomprehensible nature to allow them to better understand. For scientifically oriented guys, science will always be an easier concept than women. The Big Bang Theory should be taking notes.

Being mad is easy

A lot of things have been going on in my life that make me mad. And what's worse is there is nothing I do to make it better. I can't say anything to the people I need to because that'll only make things worse. And there is always a good way around any issue, but the good way is so much harder. It's hard to be calm. It's hard to sit back. It's hard not to flip out at people when you feel they need to see things the way you see them. It's hard to tell someone they are being selfish when you yourself gain from them doing something different (or in some cases, simply lose less).

I'm going to be a responsible blogger at this point and engage you a little. You know who you are.
What makes you mad? What do you want to say but can't because you know it'll make things so much worse?

I'll even get the ball rolling:
"This is so much bigger than just you and you haven't given the first consideration to anyone else."

Knuckle Sandwich

Go suck a dick, Thom!




All my love,
Gil Bates

I've had just about enough of this

So, I'm reading this essay by a crazy feminist for this paper I have to write. She claims that a book about a man doesn't go in depth enough into women's lives. Quite frankly, ma'am, shut the fuck up. She completely overlooks the fact that the narrative is a perspective and that perspective is of the main characters, and if you were capable in the least of any free thought you would understand the ironies. This probably doesn't make much sense if you don't know what I'm talking about. The book is called Things Fall Apart, if you care to know, but that's not what I'm here to write about.

What I want to talk about is the use of the term "woman" as a derogatory term. On the surface, it makes sense. When a man calls another man a woman, one might ask "and what is so wrong about being a woman?" Well, there's nothing wrong with being a woman except, you know, he's a man! Why is this so hard for people to understand? They see the other side of it. Women don't want to be called "manly." And if they do, they're missing the insult and that's the real shame. Women who want to be men aren't examples of strong women, they are examples of women who are ashamed to be women. And that is the problem. Hence, if women wanting to be men is a problem, then men wanting to be men (and not women) is not a problem.

So, tell me, butch lesbians of feminism (what? you don't like being called butch lesbians? why not? is there something wrong with being a butch lesbian?) how is calling a man a woman insulting to women but calling a woman a man isn't insulting to men?

Seriously, people gotta understand this gender dichotomy again. Equality doesn't require things to be the same.

Funny that I wrote this earlier this morning before I gave up and went to bed. Funny that it should come up today. Funny that I'm actually afraid to talk about it.


Dear Blog,

I love you.




So long.

Time to talk

I wonder why sometimes it so hard to talk about the issues in full honesty, yet we feel it's easier to snoop around as if we were undetected.

I think I'm the worst at this.

Ingestion

There are a lot of social get-togethers, I find, that revolve around the process of ingestion. I wonder what it is about ingestion that seems so agreeable for two people to experience together. I contemplated briefly, even, to experiment whether or not this sentiment is universally recognized by asking someone if they were interested in some form of ingestion with me. I immediately thought better, despite the misnomer being rather hilarious.

But it got me thinking that there are essentially 5 categories of ingestion with different levels of implications.

1. Dinner. Dinner is the traditional date style of ingestion. There are romantic implications here, probably because dinner marks the apex of an evening and, more importantly, the precursor to the night. This can last on the order of a couple of hours at its lengthiest indicating a certain level of commitment when agreed upon. We can see clearly that "dinner" is a concept reserved between men and women, where as "something to eat" after 4:00 is the pastime of two heterosexual dudes.
   
2. Coffee. There has been a trend lately to ditch the traditional date style which is an aggressive step that men take in their efforts to court women to a more passive and feminine approach. However, men have exploited and usurped this icon of female bonding. "Coffee," while innocent on first impression, is merely a flanking assault performed by men. Two men do not "go for coffee" regardless of their proximity to each other while consuming it. The emphasis for two men to have coffee at the same time is to have the coffee. The emphasis for two women to have coffee together is to be together. The emphasis for a man to ask a woman to "go for coffee" is the go.
3. Drinks. Ahh, alcohol. It may not be the classiest approach, but this ritual is older than time itself. Alcohol=Impaired Judgement. Impaired Judgement=Mistakes. Mistakes=You. Hey, it might not be a mistake, but it greases the wheels, if you know what I mean. Girls are rightfully defensive of their bodies (or at least they should be), but sometimes time and romance aren't enough to break down those walls. However, this tradition is not solely about sex. It is also a matter of breaking down personal barriers which people build between themselves and strangers. Alcohol doesn't make information seem like a good idea, but rather makes everyone around you a lot less strange. To put it another way, two drunk people have a lot more in common than two people. That being said, this form of ingestion is one of the least romantically inclined, as two entirely heterosexual men can suggest "we should go for a drink" or even "do you want to go for a drink?"
4. Breakfast. Talk about a loaded meal. What with the pancakes and the extra side of bacon and the night before lingering overhead. There are three different ways for one to arrive at a breakfast establishment: 1-"Do Breakfast" 2-"Get Breakfast" 3-"Have Breakfast". The differences between these may seem subtle, but are immensely great. To "Do breakfast" is to have an awkwardly platonic but not entirely business-like meeting in the A.M. Young, exciting, excitable up-and-coming businessmen from the 80s would "do breakfast." They want to become your friend fast because they want something from you they haven't received yet. Breakfast is a very personal meal, after all. Now, to "Get Breakfast" is a much safer suggestion. This is what two or more people might suggest after (or in the middle of) a really good party. The adjective "fuckin' " is usually dropped in this suggestion one or more times. To "Have Breakfast" on the other hand, is to have experienced a night together, regardless of sexual conduct, in hopes that sexual conduct will happen in the future. To "Have Breakfast" is to share a special morning with someone in the hopes that a similar (if not greater) evening will once again occur to spark another enjoyable breakfast. A good "Have Breakfast" is a lure, and Bailey's French Toast is my idea. Back off.
5. Lunch. The final and safest form of ingestion that one can be asked to. Situated in the middle of the day, there are a great number of activities that could stem from or cut short this timid meal. One could, after having lunch, engage their lunch partner in a number of activities, or could choose to part for other (fictional?) obligations. However, this leaves no hard feelings. Lunch is an ingestional ceremony shared by all. Many institutions have lunch rooms for exactly this kind of professional/social rendezvous. Though this does not restrict this form of ingestion to be without romantic interest, simply without immediate romantic intent.

I hope this short list has been an educational read for the gentlemen in finding the right form of ingestion to offer a lady, and to the ladies attempting to decipher the intent of a proposal for ingestion. Though, not that you need my help.

The Groundhog

The other day I was walking to school and I found a groundhog dead on the top of the hill. He must have frozen to death that night. It upset me a little to think that he had survived through such a long winter only to fail now at the dawn of spring. By the time I walked home that evening, the birds had picked him clean. Only the bones, feet, and head remained.

I started to wonder why this had been shown to me. I suppose it could be a coincidence that I saw it and a coincidence that the birds had not carried it off. But I don't really believe in coincidences. I believe that something that I took such great notice of is something that I was meant to notice. And now I wonder what the message was.

After a long, cold winter, do I give up? Do I submit my insides to the birds to tear out and leave me hollow? Is this a sign that this is the end? Or is it a warning? Am I to persevere through the cold and the darkness? If I hold on just a little bit longer, will I survive?

I don't know.

Life's Too Long or Do Venetians Dream Of Idaho?

A lot of people claim that life is too short to not do things. Ten Places You Have To See Before You Die. Fifteen Things You Have To Do Before You Die. Thirty-Seven Flavours To Taste Before You Die. Eight Types Of Yoga To Eternal Peace (That You Have To Do Before You Die).
Okay, I understand that the modern world has a lot to offer. But what I don't understand is why you have to do it all. Is your life worth less by not doing all these things? Were 18th century Europeans at a loss for never seeing the tremendous flatness of Saskatchewan? Were 15th century Chinese not living life to their maximum potential by not visiting Tokyo? Were 20th century citizens of the world not living their lives to the maximum potential because they had not circumnavigated the globe? Will people of the 21st century be scoffed at while telling their tales of not going to the moon? Where does it end? Why can't we live where we live and be happy with that?

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for exploring, but why do you need to see the things that you think you need to see because people tell you that you need to see the things that they've seen? That's not exploring. That's following orders. That's being obligated to "not waste you short life." It's bullshit.

What doubles this bullshit is the idea that a family will restrict your ability to experience this "exploration" which people claim is synonymous to life. Since when did watching the transformation of the cultures and topographies through the window of a tour bus become a greater marvel than nurturing a child of your own blood from infant to self reliant human being? Since when did studying the details in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel become more spectacular than watching your own child laugh and live and learn and love. Since when is seeing the Colosseum from a different perspective than the postcards more spectacular than seeing a child's development from the perspective of a mother or father?

My traditional argument is that not having children is selfish. You were a child once. Your parents spent uncountable hours and sums of money raising you. They poured themselves, their hearts and their minds, their very souls into you, and you refuse to pay it forward? How can you refuse to love a child the way that you were loved as a child? But that's not what I'm arguing here.

What I'm arguing is that having children is self-fulfilling and people don't seem to get that. People seem to think that when they're 50, they can still be the spirit of the twenty-something they used to be. They believe that the adventures can never die as long as you don't move beyond your "ideal" age. This Peter Pan notion that we can exist in one state forever is absurd. We change. That is a fact that has been proved by the dozens of photo albums of your past. Go ahead and look. Remember how you used to do your hair? Remember what you used to think was fashionable? Remember your ex? Remember how that seemed like such a good idea?

Yeah, but I'm older now. It's different.

It's not fucking different. You will grow older. You will change. You will never ever be the same. This is the rule of growth. You grow up, you grow old, you grow out. And life is simply too long to have your game plan be "stay 27 forever." You will see the world and you will perform Dhalsimian yoga. You will have a million stories that fall upon deaf ears because your middle aged friends are more concerned about their child's first end-of-year dance and your middle aged friends that pretend they'll be 27 forever are off experiencing the unique flavours of Turkmenistan. Maybe that's the life for you. I'll never understand how someone could be so excited about seeing new things, but never venture into experiencing a crucial aspect of life that is entirely foreign until you commit to it. I think people that feel they need to see the world are as much afraid to take the step from life to death as they are to take the step from child to parent.

It's time to come to terms with life.