A girl I once dated said the reason men should be required to go to the gym is because women are required to do so much upkeep themselves. She said, “If I need to worry about my hair, nails, makeup, weight, clothes etc. The least a man can do is try and get some nice arms.” So I stopped dating her and instead found a girl who didn’t care about her makeup or a guy’s arms.
I actually felt like she had a point back when she told me this, back when I had decent arms. As I’ve mentioned before, there was a time when I worked out religiously in my own home and it was working. It was working so well, girls I slept with would actually compliment my body. And not “You have a nice frame” compliments. These were more like…well…one girl said to me, “I had no idea you had such a nice body.” So yeah, I was definitely doing the right thing.
Then, for whatever reason I stopped and I want to start again because all jokes aside, I’m getting older and I should take better care of my body. But before I get back down on my living room floor and make my first attempt in two years at 150 pushups and 150 crunches, I need to know something. Which one of you fine women like fat guys because I love Chipotle, and I would hate to give it up over some myth that fat men don’t get fine women.
When I was a virgin, I used to watch movies and wonder how after two people had sex they could just act like they didn’t have sex. “If that was me,” I thought. “I’d be jumping around and celebrating like I just caught a touchdown pass.”
Then I lost my virginity and realized how easy it was to act like something never happened as we’re leaving the place where we just got it in. Suffice to say, that is perhaps the only true-to-life thing I’ve seen between two people in the movies. Most of the other stuff two people do in a movie only looks good on screen or as we like to say, only happens in movies. Here are five of them.
Usually, I keep this blog consistently focused on me, but today, it feels weird to go into some story or philosophy about something other than Michael Jackson.
We all have memories of Michael Jackson. I don’t know one person who doesn’t have something profound to say about the impact he made on popular music and popular culture. I don’t know one person who doesn’t remember where they were when they heard about Michael Jackson’s death. I don’t know one person who isn’t talking about either of those things today.
So considering everyone who is reading anything today will probably read one or two things about Michael Jackson, let me throw my hat in the ring.
Remember when I wrote a blog back in January, entitled “5 New Acts of Chivalry”? For those of you who weren’t around back then or forgot, you can read the post here.
Obviously, chivalry is a pretty big thing for me. I remember my high school years when my Mom was dating, and she told me about a man with whom she went to dinner.
When she came home from the date, I asked her how it was and she told me about how when she got up to go to the restroom, her date stood up, and as she came back to the table, he stood up again. She told me it made her smile because it had been so long since a man did such a thing; that it was an old school gesture she appreciated.
Well, I may not do a great job of standing up when a woman uses the restroom (I try to, but easily forget), but generally, I do know a thing or two about chivalry. So here we go, five more new acts of chivalry for the modern day man to follow.
A couple of months ago, I wrote a post entitled, “The Ultimate Compliment”. In it, I attempted to make a case for sex being the highest form of praise one person can give to another. Far as I’m concerned, if someone digs me so much they actually want to see and feel me without any clothes on, than they must really, really dig me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the simple comment about my topwear (“Nice hat”) but will she take me home in the hat? No? Then she only means it so much, but I digress…
I realize my hypothesis above is a bit of a stretch. Sometimes sex isn’t a compliment at all, but maybe an act of obligation or even an act of redemption. Each encounter must be evaluated (if we want to bother with such things) in context because sex is a lot of things. But I know what it isn’t. Sex, as far as I’m concerned, is never disrespectful. Nor is my desire to want to have sex with a woman disrespectful.
When you called me a few weeks ago to tell me you were having a baby, I have to admit, my heart plunged straight into my stomach and I felt every inch of its downward spiral. I believed you from the moment you told me. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt this was real, the news you were sharing with me, and though “Congratulations” weren’t the first words out of my mouth, you were patient with my stutters.
We then talked for an hour about everything that had to do with my new life and your new life. You even playfully suggested I was going to write about the phone call on this blog, but I didn’t. And now, while the details of our conversation still aren’t for public consumption, I will say this: Thank you for that phone call back in May.
If it wasn’t for your foresight to share the news you were expecting, who knows what would’ve happened when I saw you on Saturday?
I have complete confidence in myself and my ability to talk to women. What to say, what to do, how to play the situation, none of these things are foreign to me. They’re quite easy actually. But then someone comes along and all the confidence I have is nowhere to be found. It’s gone away, and left me wondering when it’s going to return.
This isn’t to sound like a sucker for love or anything. Yeah, I have been one of those once or twice in my life, but I’m not about to call myself out for such a thing right now. Today, I just want to write something for the guys who get nervous every now and then around a particular girl. They may not admit to it, but they know exactly what this is about.
Well folks, it’s official, I am now an uncle to a beautiful niece. Her name is Armoni (pronounced like the fashion label), and she came into this world on June 11, at something like 7 pounds, 21 inches.
My sister’s in great shape post-delivery, the father has stayed at the hospital with her every night, and our family couldn’t be happier. I know I couldn’t be happier. With Armoni in my family, my whole life has now changed for the better and now it’s time for Uncle Jozen to do everything he can for his only niece, but just as important, for his only sister too.
A reader of mine hit me up the other day to ask if I would write a blog about dating flight attendants. I said, “No.” But of course I wasn’t so dry with my response. As I told her, I can’t write a blog about dating flight attendants because I never dated one, but they are on my list of women I would like to date.
Right up there with looks, a woman’s profession is probably one of the most superficial qualities that captivate me. To me, the more interesting the profession, the more interesting the life, the more interesting the discussion. Not only that, but I especially love a woman who loves what she does for a living and I can’t tolerate a woman who doesn’t.
Thanks to the reader who hit me up and asked me to do a blog about flight attendants, it is because of her suggestion I am doing a post today about the five women I am intrigued to date according to profession*. Read more…
Anyone who knows me in real life, knows the lists of turn-offs I come up with and the complaints I voice about women are not actual grounds for checking her off my list. I’m flexible. So what if a fine woman enjoys spitting hard core rap lyrics, eats a Chipotle burrito, or always puts LOL in her FB status messages? If I dig her, I dig her. She’s not coming off the list just because of something so trivial, I just like to discuss the little things because we don’t discuss details enough.
So what’s the problem? If I’m not as picky as it seems, why can’t I settle on one woman?
Today, I answer this question with a bold, sweeping theory that may or may not surprise some, but hopefully will clear things up for others. This is my line of logic as to why it’s hard for men to settle down. It goes with me to the grave.