PB Bar & Grill is not really what it sounds like.  You’d probably think it’s just a little bar & grill.  No.  It is the ultimate party destination.  They have indoor and outdoor bars, a dance floor, $2 coronas, $2.50 vodka red bulls, pool tables, go-go dancers (!), fountains with flames shooting out of them (seriously) … I mean, I’m not fucking kidding, this place was sick.  There was a line down the block, but the line moved pretty quickly.  The chicks were friendly and very hot.  More than anything on my trip to san diego, I fell in love with this place.

I’m going to try my hardest to move to warmer weather before next winter, because this winter has been awfully rough.  And right now, Pacific Beach is the top contender.  Having a house on or near that strip would mean a beach and many amazing bars are within close walking distance.  Pulling chicks from those bars would be a cakewalk, and the party goes on every night of the week.

Going to San Diego made me re-evaluate my life priorities.  I realized that all I’d need there is a modest income, and with the beach, women, warm weather and such friendly people, my life would be truly pleasant.  I’m doing it, ladies and gentlemen.  I’m not sure of the details right now, but I will be warm next year.

A guy can jerk off if he wants, but the goal should not just be to blow your load.  If you do that very often, you’ll lose control over your orgasm and won’t be able to control it when you’re having sex with a hot chick.  You don’t want to be the one minute man.

So if you’re going to jerk off, it should be like practicing for the real thing.  You should set aside at least 20 mins and get some really awesome porno, and then practice jerking off really awesomely but not blowing your load.  Yea, I just said ‘jerking off really awesomely.’  You can play around with all sorts of shit to make jerking off different, and you more versatile as a sexual partner.  You can vary your breathing patterns, the tension in your body, your “stroke rate” (crew term), etc.  Go to town!  But just like in sports, remember that you play like you practice.

About time I wrote a post about jerking off, for real..

It’s honestly all about my head I guess, maybe guilt is a big issue for me, but the idea that I could hurt someone that I love is just miserable.  And so I choose to be alone and have one night stands because it just works so much better.  I get that nice feeling that I just dominated some chick, and you can be whoever you want and not be held to personality characteristics you established long ago in the beginning of the relationship. Plus, I’m so flippant that I’ll have sex with a chick and then want her to leave so I can go online to read or do stuff or whatever.  Generally, I just get bored hanging out with one person exclusively for long periods of time.  I don’t mind it with some of my best friends though, so I guess that’s saying that I’m just not good friends with any chicks right now.  There were times in the past when I had great relationships with girls though.

The unfortunate thing is rare times like right when I start thinking about things and wishing I had some smokin hot chick around that I actually had a real connection with.  God, I think it’s time I convinced myself to fall in love with someone again.  It’s been almost 2 years now.

What’s fucking with me is that I read Ciaran’s quitting being a pickup artist thread about how pickup fucked with his head, and how he is completely addicted to that feeling of a fresh conquest.  And god, is he right.  That rush is the most addictive drug in the world.  And I have gone so far down that path, I just don’t know where I stand.  I certainly lost that emotional connection with sex.  Sex to me is a fucking performance.  It’s a show of dominance and the goal is to hear that moaning that tells you that the chick is coming.  If you get it more than once, extra points.  If she screams so loud your roomates hear, triple score.  Honestly, I do think sex is a lot of fun but it just gets boring with the same girl all the time, and I don’t see myself ever reverting to that “sex is a beautiful expression of your love for each other” school of thought.  And the worst part is that now, if I tell a girl I love her, it’s just a ploy to get her to react to me.  I see everything in terms of action-reaction.  I feel like most of my drive in life is disappearing, but that’s a whole other post.  I definitely need to write that post…

Sorry this post and the last one were basically verbal vomit with no structure.  This shit is just here to help me sort out my head.

You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your fucking khakis. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

Everyone at my office is a fucking idiot.  If they’re not actually IQ level stupid, then they’re an even bigger idiot for working in that dumb fucking corporate ladder structure where they suck their boss’s nuts all day long.  It’s not a ladder, it’s a fucking circle jerk with everybody’s mouth on each others’ taint. Fuck them.

I will conclude with a song.

A cadillac drives down my street
A bead of sweat pourin slow down a palm line.
I see a bumper sticker
it’s a bearded man with a wanted sign.
A myth we’ve made to scare out fears away
A slogan that we slap on all our misdirected hate
A muddy symbol meant to mitigate our pain
But it’s really just a desert corpse
We’ve painted on the wall out in some cave.

Anyway…
I don’t know where he’s gonna park that thing.

My neighborhood drunk’s on-line at the deli
with his shaky hands and his swollen face he waits for his coffee.
He blacks out curbside every night
and every day crawls back towards wall street.
So I don’t see it like it’s us and them
I just see everybody working for that same eternal weekend
Droning on and on and on and never doing what we wanted
Heavy legs two steps behind some forever dangling carrot.

and I’m tired of this
So who’s to say that we can’t just fucking change it?

and I know it seems dramatic
but I treat it like a crisis
The office to the coffin
All our time and talent wasted
and that weight against your throat
is that a noose dressed like a necklace?

From here I couldn’t really tell the difference
either way I say let’s not take any chances

cause I don’t know where he’s gonna park that thing
Well I don’t know where he’s gonna park that thing
No I don’t know where he’s gonna park that thing

If a man feels awkward saying or doing almost anything, then he is not in the right place in his head.  Tyler Durden talks about “Unstifling” yourself in the blueprint, and let me tell you, he could not be more right.  You cannot ever let the universe weigh you down, dude.  You can’t allow other people to hold you to their expectations.  You have to be a force, man.  A fucking unpredictable, positive train of energy barreling towards the next station.  You need to be out there wreaking havoc, and you need friends who are looking for the same.

You just can’t overestimate the importance of having good friends.  When I lose a really good friend (so far due only to geographical differences, luckily) it’s like a piece of myself is left behind as well.  All those stories and adventures we shared together, the dynamic of our friendship that we’d established, all of it seems no longer accessible.  And it hurts.  And it’s so hard to find replacements.  And new friends take time to develop anyway.

But what I’m getting at is that when you have that environment where your closest, craziest friends are all there fucking stirring it up, that is what it means to be on top of the world.  No amount of money, no title, no flashy car, NOTHING can replace that feeling of reckless abandon shared with your closest of pals.  It’s the greatest thing I know.  And yes, you’ll bang chicks easily when that happens.  Just because the chicks will do anything to remain in the light that your glory shines down upon them.  It is the simplest and most elegant seduction – showing them unbridled waves of emotion, and being the coolest guys they’ve ever met, by FAR.

That is why we dominated every woman we brought into our college house.  That is why we had some of the craziest reputations at Rutgers.  Because we worked so hard to bring the party every single night.  When you create an atmosphere that’s more like girls gone wild than a regular everyday party, girls pick up on it and follow along.  But the key is having friends who all work together to build that environment.  We did not invite boring debbie downers to our apartment.  It was game time all the time, and when it’s game time, you’re either on or off.

I hate saying that I miss college, because then I get lumped into that group of people who are dismissed with “Well get used to it, you’re in the ‘real world’ now” or some other horrendous insult to life as we know it.  If you’ve ever said that to anyone, go fuck yourself.  I mean that.

My main complaint is that I hardly ever see my friends now.  I see them on weekends if I’m lucky.  And that’s only some of them, some of the time.  I miss my boy bdot who’s livin in Miami right now.  Law school, the deceptive abductor.

I live with 2 people I hardly know, who are hardly ever here.  I’ve already decided I will never again live with someone I don’t know from real life.  The people you surround yourself with has got to be, like, 80% of your life, at least.

Next, my job is lonely and I don’t speak to anyone when I’m at work.  I sit in a room with a relatively quiet guy and I read the internet.  All day, every day.

I spend extra money to live in a desireable location of manhattan, but I’ve realized that without friends here constantly, and having to wake up so early for work, I don’t usually have the motivation to go out on weekdays.  I might as well be commuting.

In college, I was literally living in a closet, paying $385 a month for rent in one of the shittiest houses I’ve ever seen in real life.  I didn’t have a job, so I kept my weekly budget insanely low.  I ate pasta or food bought in bulk from costco almost every day, and never ordered out.  Almost all my money went towards alcohol, and even then, we did most of our drinking at the house so we didn’t have to buy drinks in the bars (even though the college bars charge like, max $7 a pitcher.  In NYC you usually get a pint for $5 or 6.)

The girls in college were much less attractive.  When I go back there now, I realize how much my standards have raised since moving to NYC, just from passing more hot girls every single day.

I used to have stupid pointless classes where I crammed just to pass the tests.  They have just been replaced by ever-present stupid pointless work assignments to edit excel spreadsheets.  Really, I see no difference here.

I didn’t have my style together in college, either.  I couldn’t justify buying new clothes while I didn’t have a job.  I had to constantly count every dollar, because I was living completely off savings.

I generally didn’t have regular sex in college, I would just grab it where I could find it, one night stands or occasionally a few week stands, whereas I have a steady fuck buddy now that comes over every sunday like clockwork.  This sounds ideal, but I’ve gotten bored of the repetition.

Women hardly respect a college kid, either.  They would shit test me every time, asking how old I was, asking what I did for a living, easily being able to tell that I wasn’t very adult.  Still, I knew how to avoid this conversation, and I showed them how adult I was later that night.

Despite all these things that make college sound less desireable, I can do nothing but miss it.  Everyone was happy.  People talk about having money as if it really improves their daily life.  For me, I don’t give a fuck about money.  I just want my best friends.  We’ll figure the rest out from there.

I feel a vacuum in my chest as I write this.  I feel completely empty.  I look fantastic on paper.  My family could not be happier to tell people about me, seriously.  Meanwhile, I am scrambling for the exit door.

I will gladly give up all of these stupid accomplishments if I can get my friends back, and not have to work for someone else.  Working for someone else is the most demoralizing thing.  Loneliness is far worse.

Every day in college was a free, wild adventure.  It wasn’t very expensive at all, if you don’t count the money wasted on pointless tuition.  Classes that taught me nothing.  My friends were my classroom.  We taught each other, and we grew together.  And then graduation came, and the next stage in life.  I thought I’d make friends at work and the city would be wild and I’d get wrapped up in my new life and everything would be fine.

Wrong. 5 months I’ve been working and all I’ve accomplished is lowering my expectations for happiness in my life.

The first few months were the worst.  This is because I was used to having fun every day, and living a happy life.  Not just a happy weekend.  My body’s adjusted to being unhappy from Monday 9am through Friday 5pm.  My expectations have lowered, and so my emotional swings have decreased.

I’m waging a full war in my mind right now.  I’m hanging on to my happier mindset, keeping it locked tightly in a corner in the hope that I can escape one day from this terrible situation and release it once again to roam free amongst the winding creases of my brain.  I am protecting it, so that I can switch it on or off.  I refuse to operate it at less than full capacity.  This makes my current days worse, but it gives me hope for restoration.

You could say that I’m not trying to make this work, and so it was doomed from the start.  And I’d agree with you.  But to be gradually sucked into this 9-5 lifestyle sounds like the worst thing I could possibly do with my life.  If I ever want to be proud of what I’ve done in my life, I don’t see working mindlessly for a large corporation that sees me as an “FTE” as heading in that direction.  People don’t write books about your average corporate american.  If they do, they’re writing a tragedy.

I’m disgusted at how true the stereotypes are.  I have no respect for people who live their lives so mindlessly.  None.  I despise my co-workers.

I miss my friends.

Life is about enjoying it until we’re gone. Not about impressing people with your responsible demeanor. If I’m happy, then I’m happy. I wish other people drank more, the world would be a lot more fun.

Why can’t every day be a drunken holiday?

This week is for the illiterates.  Readers, go screw yourselves!

Merry Christmas.

That night, the cab we were in HIT A WOMAN while we were heading from one bar to another… so that was interesting.  She was ok though.  Then I left my ID and bank card in a bar… went back twice to get it today, because the first time the bar wasn’t open yet. Haha.

I wanted to do some internet marketing today, but I decided to just sit back and enjoy my hangover… I meditated on the train, and that was quite pleasant.

Now some friends are headed over with a bottle of gin and lots of beer.  God, I am a mess…

Time to get in the shower… Peace.