The Background:
Over the semester I've talked a lot about how I feel people should run their lives. I've tried to convey that this direction is not coming from a place of judgment or superiority but from a "been there, done that, wouldn't recommend it" and "don't do what Donnie Don't does" type mentality. Along the way I've received many a comment telling me to step down off my high horse and/or stop judging. Let me be (not quite) the first to say that I do NOT practice what I preach.
I am the Catholic priest who touches little boys. The Eliot Spitzer and Jerry Springer (yes he was a politician before he was a trashy daytime talk show host) of 'inspirational' writing. On the off chance you (reader) are one of the folks who thinks I'm a judgmental, holier than though, my shit don't stink type asshat and you happen to be both reading what I write still and haven't picked up on the metaphorical allusions I just dropped, allow me to tell you something: I'm a hypocrite.
Somewhere inside my mind I know how I ought to conduct my life. Despite the fact that I often choose bad over good, unhealthy over healthy, fun over productive, yin over yang and the devil over the angel, I still know what I should and shouldn't be doing. I'm a "responsible" adult. I know I should study instead of going out and once I'm out I should head home instead of staying for one more.
The bottom line is, unfortunately, I make my own decisions. When I'm a free man with no one to answer to - no "rock," as it were - I have the uncanny ability to justify truly unjustifiable actions to myself. (Don't you judge me! At least I admit it.)
The Issue at Hand:
As I've mentioned before, I'm an extremist. I can buckle down, get a 4.0, hold down a good job and be devoted to a fine lady OR I can wil' out, be the life (and death) of the party, ensure that whoever is with me is meeting their full wil' out potential and drop them if they're not. Furthermore, I have the ability to lather, rinse and repeat day after day. Fortunately, since I've been attending UB I've been participating in more of the former than the latter. Unfortunately, as of this past semester, I've been participating in only the latter.
I've been alive for 24 years and I have never done some of the ridiculous things I've been doing as of late. (I will do us both a favor here and refrain from mentioning things which are not tertiary level education appropriate.) First and foremost, the majority of the people around me have always smoked. I always gave them a hard time about it. Within the past month and a half I started smoking. Why? I'll explain in just a second. I used to limit myself to going out Thursday-Saturday, if that. Recently I've been going out Tuesday-Sunday. Why? I'll explain in just a second. I used to get to bed at a decent time and be up and at 'em on days that I didn't go out. I cannot, for the life of me, remember the last time I went to bed before 3am and usually it's around 5. Why? I'll explain now:
I, strait up, don't care. I smoke because I enjoy it when I drink and I have no reason not to. I go out every night because I have class Mon. - Wed. nights, my earliest class being 2 pm, and a select few of my close boys go out most nights. I stay up late and sleep in on days I don't go out because I have no reason to get up early.
Periodically, over the past 3 (binging) months, I've wondered what the hell I'm doing and why the hell I'm doing it. However, at no point during one of said reflection periods have I been able to come up with a reason to not be doing what I'm doing. I'm having fun. I'm hurting no one but myself (and I can't immediately see how I'm even doing irreparable damage in that department.) Upon further examination I realized the difference between "responsible" Miles and "I don't give an eff about ess" Miles.
My "Aha!" Moment:
I don't have a rock. At any given point in my life I've had someone that I either a.) lived with; or b.) saw/talked to daily, whom I felt held me up to a certain standard. In recent years it was the combination of girly and Dukes. Before that it was just Dukes. Right now I am my own rock...errr, stone. While I roll (read: stumble) I gather no moss, at least, right?
I love my Dukes, I speak to them most days. I do not need them managing my life right now, though. Unlike in years past, I'm a bit more selective about what I tell them. I am 24 years old, single, I eat nails, shit nickels and I'm full of piss and vinegar. I don't particularly want a girlfriend. Yes, I understand this may be denial. Whether I haven't found a cool, down-to-earth enough lady to make me lose interest in my shenanigans or whether my shenanigans make me not boyfriend material (for the type of girl I'm interested in) the point remains the same - a girlfriend, at this point in time, doesn't seem to be in the cards.
When getting down to the root of my 'rock' situation, I stumbled across what I really need: A girl who knows how to get down but chooses not to during the week. Said girl need'nt be girlfriend material, just fun. A girl I can call up and say, "I'm makin' stir fry tonight and Ron rented 'The Hangover,' wanna come over?" - an angel to offer me something more appealing when the devil on my shoulder, dancing with a fine devil lady in one hand and a red bull vodka in the other, is shouting out the alcoholics anthem directly in my ear: "Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots - EVERYBODAYY!!"
Main Squeeze Application**:
For those of you who have read Tucker Max's short story compilation, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, this will look rather familiar. Please don't confuse it with a girlfriend application - it is far from that. I'd like to call it my main squeeze application. Unlike a girlfriend the main squeezee does not engage in any sort of sexual activity with the main squeezer. The squeezee and squeezer may have feelings for each other and, provided the proper circumstances, would act on said feelings but both have too much respect for the sanctity of the relationship to breach the unwritten social contract of the main squeeze relationship.
The main squeeze relationship is a symbiotic one. Both parties receive the benefit of a non-biased, platonic, opposite sex relationship during the week yet play each other up to the opposite sex in a "wing man" like fashion on the weekend when it becomes clear said party is commencing the game-spitting process. If neither party has attempted to spit game or both parties have struck out during the game-spitting process it is understood that the main squeeze relationship has the availability to continue on into the weekend.
If a mutually beneficial main squeeze relationship sounds like something you'd be interested in please email me (mileslamborne(at)yahoo(dot)com) the following information.
First Name (only):
Contact Information:
Three (3) References (verifying your lack of a significant other):
A brief statement as to why you think you are down with the get down:
What you see as your value add to the symbiotic, main squeeze relationship:
I look forward to a response (or two, even?)
Remember kids: Be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers,
Miles.
**Surgeon General's Warning: The main squeeze relationship is not for the faint of heart. Going into the relationship both parties must have mutual understanding that the relationship cannot extend beyond the realm of the Dave Matthews "Say Goodbye" lyrics (if it is to enter a sexual realm at all.) Before entering into any unwritten main squeeze agreement both parties should understand the potential for becoming emotionally attached to the opposite party. Only after careful examination of such risks has occurred should either party consider this volatile form of relationship. Godspeed.
Over the semester I've talked a lot about how I feel people should run their lives. I've tried to convey that this direction is not coming from a place of judgment or superiority but from a "been there, done that, wouldn't recommend it" and "don't do what Donnie Don't does" type mentality. Along the way I've received many a comment telling me to step down off my high horse and/or stop judging. Let me be (not quite) the first to say that I do NOT practice what I preach.
I am the Catholic priest who touches little boys. The Eliot Spitzer and Jerry Springer (yes he was a politician before he was a trashy daytime talk show host) of 'inspirational' writing. On the off chance you (reader) are one of the folks who thinks I'm a judgmental, holier than though, my shit don't stink type asshat and you happen to be both reading what I write still and haven't picked up on the metaphorical allusions I just dropped, allow me to tell you something: I'm a hypocrite.
Somewhere inside my mind I know how I ought to conduct my life. Despite the fact that I often choose bad over good, unhealthy over healthy, fun over productive, yin over yang and the devil over the angel, I still know what I should and shouldn't be doing. I'm a "responsible" adult. I know I should study instead of going out and once I'm out I should head home instead of staying for one more.
The bottom line is, unfortunately, I make my own decisions. When I'm a free man with no one to answer to - no "rock," as it were - I have the uncanny ability to justify truly unjustifiable actions to myself. (Don't you judge me! At least I admit it.)
The Issue at Hand:
As I've mentioned before, I'm an extremist. I can buckle down, get a 4.0, hold down a good job and be devoted to a fine lady OR I can wil' out, be the life (and death) of the party, ensure that whoever is with me is meeting their full wil' out potential and drop them if they're not. Furthermore, I have the ability to lather, rinse and repeat day after day. Fortunately, since I've been attending UB I've been participating in more of the former than the latter. Unfortunately, as of this past semester, I've been participating in only the latter.
I've been alive for 24 years and I have never done some of the ridiculous things I've been doing as of late. (I will do us both a favor here and refrain from mentioning things which are not tertiary level education appropriate.) First and foremost, the majority of the people around me have always smoked. I always gave them a hard time about it. Within the past month and a half I started smoking. Why? I'll explain in just a second. I used to limit myself to going out Thursday-Saturday, if that. Recently I've been going out Tuesday-Sunday. Why? I'll explain in just a second. I used to get to bed at a decent time and be up and at 'em on days that I didn't go out. I cannot, for the life of me, remember the last time I went to bed before 3am and usually it's around 5. Why? I'll explain now:
I, strait up, don't care. I smoke because I enjoy it when I drink and I have no reason not to. I go out every night because I have class Mon. - Wed. nights, my earliest class being 2 pm, and a select few of my close boys go out most nights. I stay up late and sleep in on days I don't go out because I have no reason to get up early.
Periodically, over the past 3 (binging) months, I've wondered what the hell I'm doing and why the hell I'm doing it. However, at no point during one of said reflection periods have I been able to come up with a reason to not be doing what I'm doing. I'm having fun. I'm hurting no one but myself (and I can't immediately see how I'm even doing irreparable damage in that department.) Upon further examination I realized the difference between "responsible" Miles and "I don't give an eff about ess" Miles.
My "Aha!" Moment:
I don't have a rock. At any given point in my life I've had someone that I either a.) lived with; or b.) saw/talked to daily, whom I felt held me up to a certain standard. In recent years it was the combination of girly and Dukes. Before that it was just Dukes. Right now I am my own rock...errr, stone. While I roll (read: stumble) I gather no moss, at least, right?
I love my Dukes, I speak to them most days. I do not need them managing my life right now, though. Unlike in years past, I'm a bit more selective about what I tell them. I am 24 years old, single, I eat nails, shit nickels and I'm full of piss and vinegar. I don't particularly want a girlfriend. Yes, I understand this may be denial. Whether I haven't found a cool, down-to-earth enough lady to make me lose interest in my shenanigans or whether my shenanigans make me not boyfriend material (for the type of girl I'm interested in) the point remains the same - a girlfriend, at this point in time, doesn't seem to be in the cards.
When getting down to the root of my 'rock' situation, I stumbled across what I really need: A girl who knows how to get down but chooses not to during the week. Said girl need'nt be girlfriend material, just fun. A girl I can call up and say, "I'm makin' stir fry tonight and Ron rented 'The Hangover,' wanna come over?" - an angel to offer me something more appealing when the devil on my shoulder, dancing with a fine devil lady in one hand and a red bull vodka in the other, is shouting out the alcoholics anthem directly in my ear: "Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots - EVERYBODAYY!!"
Main Squeeze Application**:
For those of you who have read Tucker Max's short story compilation, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, this will look rather familiar. Please don't confuse it with a girlfriend application - it is far from that. I'd like to call it my main squeeze application. Unlike a girlfriend the main squeezee does not engage in any sort of sexual activity with the main squeezer. The squeezee and squeezer may have feelings for each other and, provided the proper circumstances, would act on said feelings but both have too much respect for the sanctity of the relationship to breach the unwritten social contract of the main squeeze relationship.
The main squeeze relationship is a symbiotic one. Both parties receive the benefit of a non-biased, platonic, opposite sex relationship during the week yet play each other up to the opposite sex in a "wing man" like fashion on the weekend when it becomes clear said party is commencing the game-spitting process. If neither party has attempted to spit game or both parties have struck out during the game-spitting process it is understood that the main squeeze relationship has the availability to continue on into the weekend.
If a mutually beneficial main squeeze relationship sounds like something you'd be interested in please email me (mileslamborne(at)yahoo(dot)com) the following information.
Main Squeeze Application
First Name (only):
Contact Information:
Three (3) References (verifying your lack of a significant other):
A brief statement as to why you think you are down with the get down:
What you see as your value add to the symbiotic, main squeeze relationship:
I look forward to a response (or two, even?)
Remember kids: Be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers,
Miles.
**Surgeon General's Warning: The main squeeze relationship is not for the faint of heart. Going into the relationship both parties must have mutual understanding that the relationship cannot extend beyond the realm of the Dave Matthews "Say Goodbye" lyrics (if it is to enter a sexual realm at all.) Before entering into any unwritten main squeeze agreement both parties should understand the potential for becoming emotionally attached to the opposite party. Only after careful examination of such risks has occurred should either party consider this volatile form of relationship. Godspeed.
5 comments:
I rarely comment on your posts, but I thought now would be the time. First off, I find you nowhere near as reprehensible as Tucker Max--which I write with a grin. Your posts have been fun and volatile, conversation starters and totally appreciated.
Good luck with that mainsqueeze thing, if I were Yoda I'd have some predictions...as I'm not, now is the time to enjoy, to experiment, to live it up. I don't miss that myself, but then I've got a "rock" of my own, as it were.
Also, I've loved the tagline.
Tabitha, I'm glad you don't find me anywhere near Tucker Max status. Though I think at points my friends and I could rival that, I certainly do not make it a public matter.
But thanks, I guess I'll take "fun, volatile, conversation starters" as a compliment, haha.
Mize, I believe Dukes should begin with a capital "D" don't you? Good luck with your experiment.
xo
Lo siento, Dukes. Edit it finished - all caps D's. Not surprisingly my inbox remains empty. Better luck next time, eh?
This entry is very inappropriate for a college blog:
"I am the Catholic priest who touches little boys" and "my shit don't stink type asshat"
Who is allowing this garbage to be posted on here?? Someone from UB's administration will be notified of the inappropriateness of this blog.
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