No One Blogs About Blow Jobs

“No one blogs about blow jobs. We ought to try that and see where we get. There is a lot of money in porn and lots of people like blow jobs.”

That is not verbatim but it is damn close to a conversation I had with some of the boys a good five or six years ago.

We were all in the midst of financial struggles courtesy of the Great Recession and we figured if we put our heads together we’d come up with a solution to our individual and collective financial issues.

Several divorces, moves and significant changes we are all living in different places than we were with significantly different outlooks on life than we once had.

“People blog about blow jobs, hell they blog about anything and everything. That is too narrow a field for us to get involved in. We ought to look at parenting and or life. We know something about that.”

No one said anything after that, we just grabbed our beers, tilted our heads back and took a sip but if it was supposed to mask our discomfort or feeling like we were on the verge of going mad I can’t say.

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All that life experience has provided ample blog fodder and some of it has generated some pretty damn good posts:

That is a snapshot of recent posts that don’t make me cringe because the writing is awkward, stilted or just not up to my standards.

There are others that make me smile because I feel good about them and a bunch that are here that aren’t quite what I want them to be.

Sometimes I wrestle with keeping them because I figure my portfolio will be stronger if I tear out the weaker pieces, but I rarely do.

Those rough posts are kind of like the rougher moments I sometimes reference here, parts and pieces of something bigger.

Reminds me of when people are asked if they would change their lives and they say they would change everything and then say they’d change nothing because they wouldn’t be who they are without those things.

Ask me if I would change some things and I’ll nod my head without hesitation and say yes.

Who We Are Isn’t Who We Have To Be

I tell the kids who we are today isn’t who we have to be forever.

This incarnation of ourselves is who we are now, but we might be something or someone different. Life might surprise us and take us on a different journey than we expect.

We might become bloggers who use colorful language and crazy headlines that sometimes generate outrage from readers who don’t like what they read.

We also might suggest those people find something better to do with their time than whine because they were offended by some words that aren’t hate speech, racist, sexist or any sort of ‘ist’ in general.

Hell, might as well include the sanctimonious sons of bitches that cry and moan about everything they see online that makes them wonder who would be so dumb and insensitive as to post pictures/videos/memes that just aren’t funny to people who are progressive and forward thinking.

Gah, they have way too much time on their hands, maybe they ought to find a blog about how to get  a blow job or at least how to pull that barbed stick out of their asses.

Will People Read/Share/Comment On This Post?

You don’t have to be clairvoyant or particularly prescient to feel the edge in this or to guess that some people complained about the words that appear here.

Nor do you need anything more than average common sense to recognize that I am not going to change my style because they are unhappy.

I write first for me and then for you.

I don’t do this because I expect tons of comments or shares. It is nice when they come and they do come, but they aren’t the point or purpose.

What kind of father would I be if I taught my kids to roll over every time someone disagreed with them.

Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t listen or consider the validity of what they hear any more than it suggests they should never be open to being wrong.

Sometimes the only way to figure out who you really are and who you can be is to walk into the wind instead of away from it.

Salmon swim upstream to spawn.

Dancing In The Damn Fire

Sleep calls and I have to answer. Been dancing in the dam fire again and the energy that it sucks out of me is harder to recover than it once was.

Been ten days of hard labor so far and tomorrow looks pretty damn ugly to me. I am hoping that is because I am tired and not because there are ten thousand troops lined up on the far shore.

Guess I’ll find out in the morning if fatigue is the culprit or if I need to put on my armor before I leave the house.

Hell, no one blogs about blow jobs anymore do they.

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10 Comments

  1. Mitch Mitchell December 19, 2015 at 10:39 pm

    Just reminding you that this is your second blog post on the topic, in case others don’t remember your $40 post lol

  2. Kristen December 18, 2015 at 5:09 am

    “I tell the kids who we are today isn’t who we have to be forever.” I LOVE THIS QUOTE. Make it into a graphic, it will spread, if that’s what you want. BTW, nice title, got me to click!

    • Jack Steiner December 18, 2015 at 12:42 pm

      That is a great idea, I hadn’t thought about it and I don’t mean that with any sarcasm or snark. Been so busy running haven’t had time to stop and think about anything.

      Glad you decided to click and comment. Hope things are good in your world.

  3. Gary Mathews December 17, 2015 at 11:41 am

    Now that is what I call “clickbait”, good stuff as usual!

  4. Jamie December 17, 2015 at 6:11 am

    What a title for my husband, Dec. 17 (our anniversary). Well, I won’t write anymore on that. But I do think the internet is making us all desensitized to EVERYTHING. See how I reflexly wrote that in caps. We uber-up everything to be noticed. And frankly, it wears me out. Life (the human mind, body) wasn’t meant to be lived on such heightened alert. In my non-expert opinion. Hope you get some rest. (and me too.)

    • Jack Steiner December 18, 2015 at 12:39 pm

      Happy Late Anniversary. I hope it was great. The Net is definitely desensitizing us to some things. I have mixed emotions about it all. Maybe if I wasn’t racing to get to the next stop I’d have a definitive thought to share. 🙂

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