Yoga Pants and Lumbersexuals…

12 o’clock in the fuckin’ morning and I can’t sleep. I see my phone light up… Is it a hot girl liking one of my Facebook posts? Maybe fate has randomly selected me to show up on someone’s Instagram feed and it’s Jennifer Aniston asking me to coffee? Maybe it’s my past coming back to haunt me….?

None of the above. It is a WordPress notification that someone randomly liked one of my posts. The Yoga Pants one… two years later and it still gets attention from the vast abyss of late night search engine results.

I’ve noticed that Yoga Pants are becoming a little too mainstream, even for my not-so-secret obsession with them. I mean… err..

Before I start in on that, I want to say a little something about this whole ‘lumbersexual’ thing that guys think is so damn cool… You look dumb! Do you even know how to start a chainsaw? Do you even know what real work boots, Carharts and flannel shirts are used for? And your beard… Did you even earn it?

I guess every generation (or division of such) will have some weird fashion and character trends. Wasn’t too long ago that guys wanted to secretly be like the Fonz… The trouble I have with it is that it is no longer fun.

Guys that try too hard are the ones that show up to the party with those shitty-ass tortilla chips that no one eats until it’s the very last option. Strangely, no one seems to care.

There are true ‘outdoorsmen’ and there are ‘lumbersexuals.’ Ya’ll need to quit ruining it for the men who want to be noticed for being men, not for how well they can mimic their rendition of a man in a city-dweller magazine.

As such, there are ‘Yoga Pants’ and there are ‘Tight leggings that shouldn’t be worn in public.’ Keep it classy, please. Just as beards should be earned, so should gratuitous exposure of the female form. I don’t mean to put down the women who have unfortunate circumstances of body shape and size. I mean to voice my opinion about the ones who ‘don’t even’ yet they pretend they do…

I earned my flannel wearing privileges when I was 150 feet up a tree, hanging backwards over an embankment that was another 100 or so feet down, with an arm outstretched and my finger on a trigger of an actual chainsaw… Cool, so you cut down your mom’s apple tree, huh?

To the topic of those amazing stretchy things, I feel women should take the same consideration when displaying what they’ve earned. I think a gym visit more than once a week is a good qualifier. Maybe actual Yoga classes? How about not being a whore! We all understand that they are super comfortable, but if you’re trying to display yourself on the market like a farmer selling cattle, take a simple marketing tip… The more rare something is, the more it’s going to be worth to someone.

Luckily, I’m getting tired so I won’t get as crude as I would like to in this post…

Live on, Yoga Pants….

Fuck Yes…

There is an amazing article I read… Thank you Facebook Sharing.

Fuck Yes, or No By Mark Manson.

Pure genius. Not because it’s revolutionary, but because it’s what has always been true. It’s slightly juvenile in the sense that it is aimed at relationships and the courting process, but still holds more weight than many other things… I’ve thought about this article quite a bit lately.

As much as I would like to say I’m motivated to have a relationship, I find that most of the time I’m in a state of ‘Meh’… I used to think that something was wrong with me when I couldn’t quite figure out what someone else was thinking or feeling. Hence, I turned to straight sex in my past. Now, I turn to plain old ‘ignore-ance.’

For whatever issues I’ve been raised with, this spills over into so many other areas of my life. Jobs, goals, family, … even cars. I go so far and soon realize “This isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing”… and if I catch myself in time, I’ll escape and move along.

This idea of ‘Fuck Yes or No’ is something that I wish more people could understand.

Why on earth should it be ok to pursue something that doesn’t pursue you? I’m not religious in the traditional sense, but I tend to have faith in whatever happens, happens. Truth is, it’s worked out pretty damn well. I still get hurt feelings and my pride gets roughed up a bit but ya know what? Who the fuck cares? If I was able to go back in time and tell myself ten years ago that I would have done everything I did, I’d call bullshit. And if I wouldn’t believe it, how the hell do I expect anyone else to believe that I could do it all over again? And who has the balls to stick around while it happens?

A spin out changed it all…

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of giving up. As I stood in the kitchen of my restaurant a few years back, I gave up. I allowed myself to feel exactly what I wanted to feel for so long. All it would take is a pull of the trigger and I could move on. It wasn’t for guilt. It wasn’t for anyone else. It was for me.

It was quite a change from the moments I had when I would close the place up at night, turn on all the neon and mow down a bowl of in-fuckin-credible ice cream. It all started because of someone who was put in my life that I can’t quite come to terms with being OK with.

It was a snowy drive from the Tri-Cities to Spokane one night and out of the blue, a car spun out in front of me. Little did I know, that the person in that car would be the one to point me in the right direction… I never said being pointed in the right direction was a fun ride.

A handful of months later she would clean me out of everything I owned. All I had left was some clothes and a toolbox that she forgot to grab out of the outside storage closet.

A day or so later I let myself go… To the recruiter. I had no one to stop me and I had no clue if I’d make it out alive. I never would have suspected it would be a guilt trip turn suicidal thought that would put a stop to all of it. War, women, booze, shitty tattoos and a Harley Davidson was all I had to show in the end. What I didn’t show was everything that was bottled up inside me.

I keep trying to come to terms with what I really need. It’s time for me to get up, brush off the bullshit excuses I’ve given myself for being so stagnant and move along.

I’m starting to see myself in other people. I see who I was at one point in my life and it pains me to be unable to help them make a change. There’s a little more I’ve got to do before I pull the trigger once again. This time, it won’t be the same trigger I wanted to pull before.