Oprah Gives Cars, I Give Laptops - Get Yours!

They say it's better to give than to receive. Doing so makes one feel "clean" inside. So what better way for a self-proclaimed techwhore like myself to cleanse the gadget slut out of me than to give away a gadget! That's right, I'M GIVING ONE LUCKY READER A BRAND NEW LAPTOP FOR FREE! (You may now start jumping up and down and screaming "OMG, OMG" like you're on the Oprah show.)

I've been informed that the kind folks at HP have selected me as 1 of just 9 bloggers who will be giving away a brand new HP Pavilion dm3 laptop loaded with Windows 7. Depending on configuration, this laptop can retail up to nearly $1,200! And for someone who has NEVER done a giveaway on his blog before, that is one hell of a good prize!

What’s the catch you ask? No catch. HP simply wants help in creating a buzz about their new HP Pavilion dm3 laptop. So they are giving me 1 laptop to give away to one lucky reader. And rumor has it I’ll receive a second laptop if my blog generates the most buzz! Even better news, I’ll be giving that second laptop away too! That means your chances of winning have just doubled! So let me treat you to an early gift this holiday season by giving you a laptop. It's my way of simply saying thanks for reading my blog and because I like the warm, fuzzy feeling I receive putting a smile on someone’s face (insert collective aww here). Now let me tell you how to win that laptop...

Prize Specs: HP Pavilion dm3

• HP Pavilion dm3 offers an ideal balance of performance, mobility and affordability in a 1” thin, sleek design that features a meticulously clean design and iconic keyboard enhanced by a brushed aluminum-magnesium alloy case.
• Features like snap, pin, shake, and peak in Windows 7 make day-to-day tasks a breeze on dm3
• Windows 7 also offers better ways to find and manage files like Jump Lists and improved taskbar previews that help you speed through everyday tasks. To open a Jump List, just right-click a program icon on the Windows 7 taskbar.
• Great features like HomeGroup makes sharing music, pictures, videos, and document on home networks easy.
• The dm3’s HP MediaSmart along with its BrightView LED display, SRS Premium Sound and Altec Lansing speakers with the option to connect to your HD TV via the HDMI port make the device ideal for experiencing music and video.
• Windows 7 enhances that experience with features like Play To, which allows users to play media through a home video/audio system, and the Windows Media Center that enables users to watch Internet TV and record TV for playback.
• Ultra-low voltage processors and other features give the dm3 up to 10 hours of battery life, letting users go where they need to without having to find a plug.
• Windows 7 power management contributes to battery longevity by running fewer background activities, automatic screen dimming, powering off unused ports and more.
• See more on the HP Pavilion dm3.
• See more Windows 7 features.

How To Enter:
To enter simply leave a comment on this post stating what one of the first things you would do with this laptop should you receive it. Any answer is acceptable, from downloading porn to chatting with Santa via Skype. The more you enter, the more chances you have to win! And remember the winner will be the person who creates the greatest buzz! So leave tons of comments, Tweet it, Digg it, tell your Facebook friends, link to it from your blog, however you want to do it is fine with me. Just get the word out.

Contest Rules:
Basically, there are none!
Everyone is eligible!
No restrictions apply!
HP will ship directly to you - anywhere in the world!
Just be sure to leave some type of contact info (such as a profile link to your blog) in your comment/s so I can get in touch with you if you win.

Contest Entry Dates:
November 23, 2009 - November 30, 2009
(You'll know the contest has officially ended when the Comments section closes.)

Winner will be announced on December 1, 2009 here my blog (The Rest Is Still Unwritten) and via my Twitter (@diamondkt). So make sure you subscribe to my blog and following me on Twitter. Good luck!



***TIP***
Digg Users: Digg the story here at Digg.com

Twitter Users: To help me keep track of entries, when Tweeting this post please copy/paste this phrase...

Win a brand new HP dm3 laptop with Windows 7! http://bit.ly/8uqTtv via @diamondkt #freelaptop

How Blogging Is Like Oral Sex

I don’t read a lot of blogs.

There. I said it. I’ve owned up to it.

It’s not that I don’t care to, it’s just that I don’t have enough time to. So really, please don’t take this personal. If there were more hours in the day and more minutes in the hour, I would be all about blog browsing (or at least keeping up with my favorites). But you see, this thing called life gets in the way. I don’t mean that in an arrogant "I’m better than you and busier than you" kind of way. I mean that in a "I need to schedule designated blog browsing time into my life" kind of way. Between running my own company, traveling for work, finishing up my masters degree, MMA training, and being a puppy Dad...that leaves little free-time for me to socialize with family, friends, and date. And I’m just going to go out on a limp here and say that it probably would be frowned upon if I took my laptop to bed with me and launched Google’s RSS Reader to catch up on blogs while I was receiving pleasurable activities from my date. There is just something about naughty bits and reading blogs that don't mix. Sort of like how Playboy playmates and brains don't mix.

Recently someone sent me an e-mail stating that they’ve been reading my blog for the past year, but rarely ever comments. She wrote...

"The posts are entertainment enough, but I believe in reciprocity so feel like I should contribute sometimes! I guess I also kind of feel strange that I have been following your writing for over a year now, but in a lurking sort of way. You just share and I take and offer nothing."

Sometimes blogging can be a lot like oral sex. One person gives (the blogger writes a post) and the other receives (the reader enjoys their work). Sometimes the receiver reciprocates (the reader leaves a comment) and sometimes they don’t. Now I don't know about you, but I like my sex like I like my blogging. It should be a two-way street. However, I find myself often more happy with being the giver - in blogging and in oral sex. So in a way, I really don't mind if I don't receive. Still, it's nice to at least give your favorite bloggers a reach around (AKA, post a comment) every now and then to show them their work doesn't go unappreciated.

I've come to discover that only about 10% of people who actually read your blog will leave a comment. So you can't judge your readership base off of the number of comments you get. (And no, your own comments on your own blog don’t count because that's the equivalent of blowing yourself, padding your stats.) I have far more subscribers than actual commenters. That's just the nature of the blogosphere - most people read/lurk than interact. So if you want a more accurate depiction of the traffic you generate, you're better off looking at the number of subscribers you have or website hits you receive, rather than the comment total on any given post.

However, like I've always said, I don't write for comments. That's not what blogging is about. And I'm not comparing blogging to oral sex because I'm trying to hint to the fact that I want you all to suck my dick in a "I love your blog and want to have your baby" kind of way. No, only praise me when you feel praise is do. And only agree with me when you truly do. Otherwise, I want your honest feedback - good or bad, agree or disagree. Give me your insight. Because if we were all thought the same and all got along so swimmingly in this world, how boring would that be? Now I'm not encourage drama, I'm simply encouraging conversation - REAL conversation. Afterall, sometimes the best part about a blog isn't the post that is written, but rather the comments it receives and the conversation it starts. THAT is how blogging is like oral sex. It can generate an intellectual orgasm of the brain, a brain orgy of sorts.

I would like to comment more on other blogs, but when pressed for time, I refuse to be the douchebag that leaves the lame two-word "good post" remark. Therefore I only comment when I feel I have something insightful to say. Or when I'm having a particularly unproductive day and feel like running/surfing around and being a commentwhore. You'll know when those days hit because you'll see my stupid/slutty face stamped throughout the blogosphere. Consider yourself warned.

In closing, I just want to thank those that take the time to leave me comments here or e-mail their personal comments directly to me. I also want to thank those that ReTweet my posts and link to my blog from their little corner of cyberspace. And finally, I want to thank all of you that stimulate my brain and inspire me to keep writing. What I'm trying to say is I value your conversation. "You give good head." Conversation is as much a part of blogging as writing is. It's also why I encourage you to comment on other blogs and get the conversation going there as well. Now if you want to keep lurking, that's fine too. Just know that next week, those who get involved on my blog will be given a sweet reward! A VERY sweet reward. Like a poop your pants, holy shit kind. Trust me, it's good. It's my little way of saying thanks. Besides, it's almost that thankful and giving time of year again and I'm feeling extra festive!

Seriously, stay tuned. Because you won't want to miss this!

They Lack, What You Have, That I Want.

Hate myself for not telling her...

They lack, what you have, that I want.

But would it have even made a difference? I think not. So I’m glad she wasn’t privy to that part of my heart.

Vulnerability is a weakness. And pain is weakness leaving the heart. So in the end, I’m stronger for remaining silent.

Write Like No One Is Reading

I have a motto. It goes like this...

"I write like no one is reading. Because it's much more freeing that way!"

That motto is just as true today as it was 5 years ago when I started blogging. I never really expected anyone to read what I wrote, nor did I care if they did, or didn’t. I just assumed that I would fly under the radar and my blog would be among the billions of others that are lost in cyberspace. For the first few years my voice remained anonymous and my identity unknown. I blogged for just one reason - because I enjoyed writing and felt I had something worth being said, even if it was only for an audience of one. Then somewhere along the way I discovered that writing was more than a creative outlet for me. It was also therapeutic to me. Writing gave me the ability to express the things in my everyday life that are often too difficult for me to verbalize. So in a way, this blog has been a gift to me. However, I never thought that others would see it as a gift to them. That was my mindset until I received this letter. It was signed "Laura Love," a fictitious name behind powerful words.

(reprinted with permission)

Dear David,

As I sit here crying writing this email to you, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for your words. Thank you for your blog. Thank you for the time and energy you put into it. I can't express how healing, how soothing, how inspirational your words have truly been for me in this very moment of my life. I seek nothing by writing this to you, but the simple expression of gratitude.

I hope it brightens your day, night...whenever you read it. My faith and hope has been slowly and shakily building as of late, and reading your words has given more shine to the world I navigate through. Thank you.

Laura Love

Immediately I thought she was referring to my post titled "My Deepest, Darkest Secret." It was about my attempted suicide when I was just 12-years-old. A story that I had NEVER shared with ANYONE, but yet felt brave enough to confess it in writing to THE WORLD! However, she wasn’t just referring to that post. She was referring to several other posts of mine, some which I forgot I had even written. That’s the beautiful thing about writing. We’re not just connecting our thoughts and emotions with words. We’re connecting with complete strangers with our words. It sounds so cliché, but if you touched just one person’s life, you’ve made a difference. It's letters like Laura's that let me know that my writing makes a difference in the lives of others, no matter how large or small that difference may be.

There are all kinds of writers/bloggers out there. Some write to teach. Some write to share. Some write for money. Some write for fame. Some write to up their social media cred. And then there are others that just write for themselves. Those that write because they simply enjoy the process. I enjoy the process.

Singer Anna Nalick once wrote:
If I get it all down on paper
It's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked infront of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming outloud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

My point is this...write like no one is reading, because it’s much more freeing that way. Stand naked infront of a crowd and let your diary scream outloud. And remember how good it feels to finally breathe.

***NOTE***
You can also see this post featured on BrazenCareerist.com

I'm The New Sinatra

At age 8 I stood at the bus stop (AKA, my parent's driveway). I wore a muddy brown, canvas backpack strapped over my bony shoulders and held an oversized umbrella over my pint-sized skull. It shielded me from the cold November rain that had begun to fall. I waited for Old Yeller to arrive. Normally I would try to imitate the morning bird that would call to me before the sun had fully awoken. Although when it rained, the air was silent. The morning bird doesn't peep, it sleeps. The only thing I heard was the quiet hum and small crackle from the power lines that ran above the trees and connected our neighborhood as one. My sister was sick and was allowed to stay home from school to watch TV. So periodically, my Mom would peer out her bedroom window to make sure I was ok waiting for the bus alone. Dad was busy loading his Thermos of black coffee and some extra tools in his truck for the start of a new workday. With a confused and concerned look on his face, he waved goodbye to me just as he was backing out of the garage. I knew that look well. It was the "what the hell is wrong with you" look he often gave me. Sometimes he verbalized those exact words to me and on other days he just communicated it with his disgusted facial expression and a disapproving shake of his head. As the only son, constant pressure was placed upon me to live up to certain expectations, to be properly molded to his standards.

And here I was, dancing and twirling with my umbrella. Jumping off of a boulder of a rock and flailing my arms in the air in delight. I was singing in the rain! Without a doubt, that is the LAST thing a homophobic father wants to see. But understand, his boy wasn't gay. He was simply happy to be alive and was living in the moment. Ok, it was pretty "fem" of me reflecting back on it, but aren't we all quick to judge at first glance?

I don't remember how I heard it, where I heard it, or even when. I just know that somehow the melody soaked into my soul and the lyrics ingrained into my brain, subconsciously. A finger snap in lieu of a beat and an upside down umbrella handle in lieu of a microphone. An asphalt driveway became my stage and the glow from a soft orange rising sun became my stage lights. And the skittish squirrel that ran by my feet, for him alone I was performing.

"I'm singing in the rain. Just singing in the rain. What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again."

They were the only lyrics I knew and therefore repeated them over and over again. However, in my child-like mind, I was fully convinced that I just came up with the world's greatest song! Yes, I believed I wrote "Singing In The Rain" by Frank Sinatra. I knew nothing about music and certainly didn't know how to write it, but I heard the melody in my head and I had the lyrics down. I was so ecstatic of my new found creation and sheer musical talent that as the bus begin to roll down the road, I took off running back into the house yelling for Mom. "Mom! Mom! I just invented a song! Wanna hear it?" I sang my little heart out for her as she held back a giggle. She smiled at me and said..."Honey, that's really wonderful but that song has already been written. Someone named Frank Sinatra wrote that many years ago. It's considered a classic." My immediate reaction..."Who?" I could't believe someone beat me to my masterpiece! I felt robbed.

Just like that, my dream of being a star and making my family rich were shattered. I think I sulked for about 5 minutes, if that. These days the only time you'll find me singing is alone in my car or in the shower. I do not have a talented singing voice by any means, so naturally I rarely share it. I don't see the point in purposely torturing the public. I either have to be crazy drunk to sing infront of people or crazy in love to act silly and sing something for a girl. The only exception, I will sing for and with my 5-year-old niece...as long as no one is listening.

Water must do something to me when it comes to singing and unknowingly stealing Frank Sinatra's music. At 8 years old I sang in the rain. Now 20 years later I'm back at it again, this time singing in the shower. Yes, this time around I've invented my own version of "I've Got You Under My Skin" by Frank Sinatra. The funny thing is the melody in my head is completely different, even though it still has that same old school, big band sound to it. I swear I didn't realize this was even his song until I got out of the shower and the reality hit me! It's bizarre, especially considering the fact I'm a Frank Sinata fan! Somehow though, his music continues to subconsciously "get under my skin" and the water seems to wash it out of me. I suppose this would make me a mix of Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble? I don't know, but I'm dubbing myself as "The New Sinatra" David Buble.

I now give you the song "I" wrote while sudsing up my nether regions. And yes, the lyrics are in fact original. Now if only you could hear the melody in my head. Hmm, lean in close and maybe I'll hum it to you.

She’s Gotten Under My Skin
by "The New Sinatra" David Buble

She’s gotten under my skin
And I swear I wouldn’t let her in
She’s gotten under my skin
And it starts again
She’s gotten under my skin
She’s got the bluest eyes
She’s gotten under my skin
I feel my temperature rise
She’s gotten under my skin
My palms start to sweat
She’s gotten under my skin
And we’ve barely even met
She’s gotten under my skin
My heart begins to fly
She’s gotten under my skin
And I swear I’ll never know why


Don't worry, I'm keeping my day job.

You're Personal Branding Yourself As A Narcissistic A-Hole

Brace yourself because some of you are about to be offended by my brutal honesty. Lately when I started to hear everyone complaining about Personal Branding and Social Media, I fully agreed with their criticism. Everyone needs to stop the ass kissing and start being real. Honestly, I've been ODing on everyone PBing themselves for sometime now! Translation = I can't take the Personal Branding craze! Seriously, this shameless self-promotion stuff has got to stop! I feel like I'm back in high school watching the social misfit, who is desperate to fit in, try every trick in the book to gain attention. The only difference is we are no longer in high school. Instead this has graduated to Gen-Y's use of Social Media. It's nauseating to witness. If all the so-called Personal Branding experts would stand before Simon Cowell he would shake his head in disgust and in that smug, British accent say..."It’s dreadful, truly dreadful. I'm bored. I don't understand what you're trying to do. Tell me what the point is."

Maybe it's just that I don't understand how people can make a career out of Personal Branding, or maybe I just think it's an annoying career? Either way, I hate to be a hater, but it just feels like constant self-promotion. And essentially that's all Personal Branding is, which of course makes it slightly worse than a pushy salesman that is trying to sell you something. Because in the case of the self-proclaimed Personal Branding expert, they are trying to sell themselves! Wait...wouldn't that be similar to whoring?

We live in a society where status has become everything and image has leveraging value. We are constantly bombarded with branding, especially Personal Branding. You, Inc.! A Brand Called You! Brand Yourself! Inc. Yourself! Some would say go F yourself! Far too many people are concerned about how they "look" to other people when they should be focusing on who they REALLY are. Do you even know who you are anymore? You’ve turned your identity into a brand and in the process lost your true self. It’s sad really. And in a way, I feel sorry for them. I watch these people obnoxiously plug their blog posts countless times a day on Twitter and spend hours upon hours thinking of ways to promote themselves. One more follower. One more subscriber. One more fan. One more hit. Driving traffic to all their social media platforms has become their obsession, their drug of choice!

I feel like they are the type of people that buy into those "get rich quick" schemes that run on late night TV, that Personal Branding will bring them fame and fortune. For whatever reason, they seem to believe that if they name drop themselves and their web address enough that somehow they will be the next big brand! That people will remember me. People will like me. And they will know my name. Nope, sorry. Nike and Pepsi you are not and probably won’t ever be. All you're doing is irratating people and making them sick to death of you! I know, I know. The truth hurts, but someone had to say it.

The biggest problem with Personal Branding is there’s no sincerity. Because there’s no way in hell you absolutely LOVE every person you come across and think they are brilliant! We all know there are times when you disagree with them, but lack the balls to say so for fear of hurting your own "brand." It’s like your looking to be re-elected when you were never elected to begin with. Campaigning for office, but the office doesn’t exist! I’m just so sick of seeing Personal Branding experts handing out the equivalent of a virtual chocolate chip cookie to everyone they see who makes a nice poopie. It’s ridiculous! Being fake hurts a "brand" far more than being real. Even though everyone loves being complimented, insincere compliments can be seen a mile away, as can hollow connections and fake friendships. Sincerity and integrity go hand-in-hand. And I don’t see how anyone in Personal Branding could go very far without them. You've made yourself into a gimmick.

There is a big difference in how you appear to others, versus how you truly are. The difference is supposed to be in meaning, not in being. When you are authentic, you appear to others the way you truly are. When you aren’t authentic, your true face shows up in ways that are often shocking and unpleasant to others. Personal Branding is like a lot of hot air being pumped out at an amazing speed. Inflating one’s self is superficial, short lived, and often triggers some ugly demise that can create widespread harm. AKA, your peers hating you. And what could be worse to the high schooler, or in this case the Personal Branding expert, than your peers hating you? Bottom line, no one cares about your Personal Brand.

I enjoy mixing a small dose of hypocrisy in with a good old fashioned tongue lashing. So I will admit that I let TwitterFeed send out an auto Tweet on my behalf when I publish a new post to my blog, but other than that, I do my best not to PB myself. If people want to (note the hyperlinking) read my blog or follow me on Twitter - great! And if they don't, that's fine too. I just refuse to cram it down their throat. I don't need or want attention that bad. Being viewed negatively in order to see my name in (virtual) lights doesn't sound like a good trade-off. Honestly, I don’t even know what they are selling, or if anyone is even buying! I just know I hate how it’s packaged. So stop spoon feeding it to me. Please.

***NOTE***
If you feel me on this post, please ReTweet...because irony is beautiful like that.

A Publishing, A Play, And A Book - Oh My!

I still don’t get it. My blog writing here has becoming increasingly bitter over the last few posts, but somehow readers are loving it and being sweet and supportive to me. Maybe it’s because my words are delicious like bittersweet chocolate? Or maybe you’re just holding onto hope that I will snap out of it and get back to writing a kickass post? Whatever the reason may be, you’re sticking around. You’re continuing to read. I thank you for that. So even if this doesn’t classify as a kickass post, it does classify as kickass news! Which is exactly what I want to share with everyone, in small bits, like bittersweet chocolate chips.

I've Been Published!
If you follow me on Twitter (and my Mom says you should), you have probably already heard the news. My words were published by Examiner.com's Generation Y Examiner, Sharalyn Hartwell. Here's a snippet of the article...

Gen Y Gives Thanks:
The Opportunities of Technology and The Romance of More Simple Means

"The romance of a ribboned notebook. The smell of the oiled leather cover. Inside, virgin paper awaits, just begging to be touched with the thrill of violet ink. A Moleskine notebook has real pulling power on me, as does proper stationary. Stationery is romantic, poetic, sensual. Typing on a computer keyboard feels anonymous, anodyne, soulless. I'm so grateful that I’ve rediscovered my childhood love of writing. It has given me the creative outlet in which I so desperately craved. And through it, the ability to express the things in my everyday life that are often too difficult for me to verbalize.

Writing an e-mail is just something you do, perfunctorily and without much thought. Writing a letter or a card is a careful considered act and one that makes the recipient feel as if they’ve received a tiny present. Tragically, letter-writing is a dying art, even when it comes to love letters. It seems people are perfectly content to be wooed by text these days. I know this sounds shocking coming from me, a self-proclaimed tech whore. I do love my gadgets, but I also love the written word. There is just something about the feeling of a pen between my fingers and paper beneath my palm. To me it’s intoxicating." ...read the full article here.

Writing My First Manuscript!
When offered to turn my writing into a NYC play, naturally I was flattered. But I initially turned it down because plays, musicals, and slam poetry just isn't me. I'm snowboards, sportbikes, and Bulldogs. Then after talking with a friend, I started to wonder if I turned down the NYC theater writing gig too early. It's good to do things out of your comfort zone, right? So I decided to do it, like a big cannonball into the water! I'm nervous, but hopefully I'll swim and not sink. I don't know the first thing about writing a manuscript, but I'll learn along the way. My first draft is due this weekend. Wish me luck! (I'll post more on this in the future, but just wanted to say thanks to Effable Arts and the 8 other writers involved in this project. Looking forward to working with everyone. Should be fun!)

From Blog To Book!
There are lots of services out there that can turn your blog into a book. But when I received an e-mail from a reader who wanted to do this herself, I was blown away. She enjoys my blog so much that she wants to take it with her when she travels around the world, but wants it to be in a more tangible form - a book to hold in her hands. Naturally, I loved the idea! She is going to design the cover and select her favorite posts of mine to include. All I need to do is write a Preface for the book. I'm a virgin manuscript writer and a virgin book preface writer. But, I'm up for all these challenges!

Can’t Live Without

Over at 20SB.net (20 Something Bloggers) a question has been proposed. What’s essential to your life? What can’t you live without, even when money is tight? What’s most important to you?

Being the tech whore that I am, I’m sure you are thinking I’m going to say I can’t live without the Internet or some coveted gadget like my laptop, iPod, TIVO, or cell phone. While all those things are pretty important to me and I would definitely miss them if they were stripped away, I can honestly say that I could survive without them...I think. It would be difficult and I would surely tremble and weep, but I think I could detox eventually. So what can’t I physically live without? Well scratch off the obvious which is air, water, food and sex. Now this is what's left...

Writing
Anne Morrow Lindbergh once said, "I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living." This describes how I feel perfectly! Writing to me is so much more than the physical pleasure of a pen between my fingers and paper beneath my palm. It's so much more than fingertips clickity-clacking on a keyboard. Writing to me is essential to living, or at least to my life. It's a childhood love of mine which has given me the creative outlet in which I so desperately craved. And through it, the ability to express the things in my everyday life that are often too difficult for me to verbalize. That alone is a gift in itself! Nevermind if you posses real writing talent or not.

Music
There's no doubt about it, I'm a music junkie! And I enjoy a very wide genre - anything from Marilyn Manson, to Frank Sinatra, to Jay-Z, to Pink Floyd, to John Mayer, to the Black Eyed Peas. Should I keep going on? I just like to mix it up. You'll rarely find me at my desk without my iPod on. It's glued to my head during workouts, while walking the pup, and cranked in my car while driving. To me, the invention of the mp3 is better than sliced bread! Music has the ability to change my mood and clear my mind. It can pump me for an MMA fight or calm me down after a stressful day at work. It can make you smile, make you cry, make you sing, make you dance, and of course make you reminisce. Is there anything music can't do? Music isn't just the soundtrack TO life, it's the soundtrack OF life.

My English Bulldog Diesel (AKA, my BFF)
What can I say about this 45lb chunk of meat that I haven't already said before? I love him. Really. Truly. Deeply. Love. Him. I do things for and with my dog for one simple reason - it makes me happy to see him happy. Really, that’s love in its purest form, completely unconditional. It's easy to see why dog is man’s best friend. He is loyal. He will never betray me. And his love is unconditional as well. It’s the perfect relationship! Call me crazy, but I honestly can't put into words how much this animal means to me. I think I love him far more than any human in my life. Is that bad? A woman can make me want to be a better man. But for Diesel, I want to be the man he thinks I already am.

Those are the top 3 things I can't live without. Well those and T.P. (toilet paper)

What can't you live without?


***NOTE***
Legal Jargon: This post is a part of 20SB’s Blog Carnival: Can’t Live Without, and Alice.com is awarding prizes to lucky bloggers and readers!

Why Halloween Is Better Than New Year's Eve

Halloween may have come and gone, but today as you sit in your office cubical paralyzed by a sugar-induced coma, why not read some of my random ramblings? Afterall, you’re staring aimlessly at your monitor anyway. So you might as well put your "zoning out hour" to good use. The mound of empty chocolate wrappers covering my desk tells me that I'm pretty much a waste of space at work today. I too am fighting through a sugar-induced coma...compliments of the co-worker Mom duo sitting to my left who overbuy bagged candy religiously every October. They are capable of making me into a fatty in 15 minutes flat! That's ok though, they're Moms. Moms like to feed you. That's what they do. And you can't ever say no to a Mom! It's like a whore saying no - just doesn't happen. So call me a manwhore or call me a candywhore, I don't care. I just can't say no. (You can see where this post is headed, can't you?)

New Year's Eve is supposed to be the biggest party night of the year, but personally, I like Halloween better. That's because New Year's Eve parties have too much responsibility tied to them. And we all know that responsibility = the slow sucking out of fun. Why else do people scream "not it" when someone asks for a volunteer to be the designated driver? Nobody wants to be the level headed one in the group, the voice of reason, the rule enforcer. LAMER! I mean I just don't want to be the guy keeping count of exactly what and how much my buddy has had to drink so I can help poison control. I don't want to be the one holding his public urination ticket so he actually believes me later when I say he has to go to court in a few weeks. And I don't want to be the guy trying to convince him (or in his eyes cock block him) that the "hot girl" he is escorting back to his apartment is really a transvestite. Maybe all of that makes me a lousy friend, but if you knew my friends then you would understand that they learn best from making their own mistakes. So who am I to interfere with their learning process? I want to see them grow as men.

Another problem with New Year's Eve is that there is too much emotional, psychological, and social pressure. You have to make sure you are at the most kick-ass party of the year. If not, then you've just wasted your last moments of 2009, which you can never get back. You have to make sure you have someone to kiss at midnight. If not, then you're just a loser and it's surely bad love karma for next year if you can't even end this year properly. And finally, the worst thing about New Year's Eve - the resolutions! The pressure, the responsibility, and setting oneself up for inevitable failure is not right.

Maybe I set my goals too high, but every year there is always a handful of resolutions I've either failed to keep or never reached. While I should be focusing on my successes and the resolutions that I did keep or achieved, I just can't help but feeling like a year-end failure on December 31st. Then on January 1st, it starts all over again. That looming feeling that I need to make new resolutions and work even harder at keeping or achieving them so I don't repeat the failures of last year. Plus, there's always that bitter sweet goodbye to another year that's come and gone. Instead of feeling excited for a brand new year about to begin, I want to hold on to time. Maybe that's the kid in me, never wanting to grow up? Arrrgh! Whatever happened to just having fun at a party?

Halloween parties feel like a belated birthday party to me. I was born on the 28th, so when the 31st rolls around I like to pretend that all the scandalous dressed girls in skimpy costumes are eye candy just for me! Honestly, I can never get enough sexy kittens, naughty nurses and girls dressed as edible cupcakes. You see, this is why Halloween is my favorite party night of the year. There is none of the pressure or responsibility that New Year's Eve brings. There isn't any deep thinking involved. On Halloween you can just kick back, relax and be yourself...and at the same time you get to be someone else too! The only "goal" you need to achieve is having fun. Afterall, that is what a party is suppose to be! Of course there are two objectives you should shoot for at any party. Getting shit-faced and getting laid. Accomplish both of these and your night was a success! So I'm happy to report my Halloween was a success.

She was dressed in a shiny, black vinyl catsuit teddy. Complete with knee-high stiletto boots, cat ears, a tail, and a whip to match! I was dressed as Captain Morgan, the spiced rum pirate. I had never seen her before and was never introduced. So when she turned and smiled at me, I tipped my hat and smiled back. Then I called her over. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty." She laughed, started to walk towards me, then stopped. She cracked her whip and pointed to the floor, instructing me to come to her instead. I like this girl already. She wants to dominate!

There is often a rude awaking to one-night stands. Come morning, you roll over and realize what you’ve done, or rather who you’ve done. Somehow they always lot better through beer goggles in dim club lighting. But what’s done is done. The important thing is she didn’t have a penis. So you’re in the clear. It’s time to collect your shit and roll out. Of course in the case of the sexy kitten, I had no complaints. She looked just as great out of the black vinyl catsuit in the morning sunlight as she did in it under the pale moonlight. Her name, I didn’t catch it. She will just be forever known to me as the sexy kitten who cracks a mean whip.

I promised I wouldn’t blog about my sexcapades, but what can I say? I lied. Lesson #1, never trust a manwhore. This concludes another session of Manwhoring 101. Any comments, questions, or concerns? If so, you know where to leave them. Now class is dismissed.

(And don’t forget to grab a complimentary Snickers bar on your way out. Full sized, none of that chocolate miniatures bullshit. Because being fat is only fun when you have an equally fat friend to gormandize with.)

The First And Last Time I Guest Blog For Anyone

(heavy sigh)

I don’t understand it. I really don’t. Maybe one of you can explain it to me. First, you need to read my guest post 9/23/09 - We Prefer Lazy Love to fully grasp what I'm about to say...

Last month I guest blogged for freelance writer Melissa Blake. I took my time on writing the post, partially because I was extremely busy with work when she asked me to write and partially because I wanted to get the words just right. I wanted to give it some thought. Although at the same time, not so much thought that I was no longer speaking from the heart. I wanted to be clear and to be perfectly honest with her. And I was. I answered the question she proposed to me. "Why do guys run the other way when they see me, especially in my wheelchair?"

Now anyone would find some degree of difficulty in answering a question like that! And I have to admit, I was a bit nervous in doing so. Still, I did it. Then I worried how readers would receive it. But decided my work was done and to let the chips fall where they may. However, to my pleasant surprise, everyone seem to love the post! Even Melissa Blake herself called it, and I quote, "great!" Then suddenly she had a change of heart. It turned black when she wrote this very insulting response to my post...

Girl Talk: Why Are Men Reluctant To Date A Woman With A Disability?
by Melissa Blake

I recently met David through my blog. He was charming, witty and funny. After a bit of friendly Twirting (flirting via Twitter, the equivalent of computer footsie), he said he thought I was pretty funny too and even admitted to being a bit intimidated when I told him how strong my physical disability, Freeman-Sheldon Syndrome, had made my arms. This bone and muscular disorder has resulted in more than 26 surgeries to correct joint contractures, scoliosis and to straighten my leg muscles. You’d be amazed how strong my arms could get just from using a walker for 20+ years. They’re like giant muscles of steel, only smaller and dotted with cute freckles.
Well, this was a first, so feeling a bit bold, I asked him to guest-post from the male perspective on a question that has nagged me since my days in high school when I’d look at other girls and how the guys easily flocked to them. The question: Why are guys so reluctant to date – at the very least, approach – a woman with a disability?

His response: “Men are lazy.”

I thought his honesty was refreshing (heck, sexy even) at first. Here was a guy with enough decency to be open and honest with me instead of placating me and treating me like a breakable, fragile China doll. It seemed too good to be true, which is probably why the feeling didn’t last long.

You see, honesty is only attractive if it’s true. The more I thought about his “laziness” explanation (which was quite a lazy one at that; irony, anyone?), the more it started to seem like one of those Warhead candies I used to love as a child. They’re sweet on the outside, but suck on that candy long enough and you eventually find yourself at its sour center.

Insults sugar-coated as compliments aren’t honesty. They’re cop-outs. Big time. David wasn’t trying to let me down gently. He was just trying to let himself off the hook.

If you didn't agree with what I had to say, that’s fine and you’re welcome to engage in a friendly debate with me. But talking shit on someone behind their back, especially after you lied to their face with an insincere "great" compliment, isn't cool. It's deceitful, cowardly and down right cruel. You posted that on the pages of some minuscule website probably hoping I wouldn't notice it, but I did. Hey, the least you could have done is link back to my original post to let the readers of that website decide whether or not I was feeding you "insults sugar-coated as compliments."

From now on, I have 3 rules that apply to everyone:

1. Don’t ask my opinion on something if you don’t want to hear my answer. And if you can’t handle the truth or think what I’m saying isn’t the truth, that’s not my problem. It’s yours.
2. Don’t ask me to do you a favor if you can’t be gracious or courteous to me in return.
3. Don’t ask me to guest blog. I’ll no longer do it for anyone.

If you think society automatically labels you incorrectly because you have a disability, well society will also automatically label me incorrectly as an asshole because I'm not sitting back and allowing outrageous behavior from someone to slide simply because they are in a wheelchair. Everyone deserves to be treated with a little kindness in this world, including you...and even including me.

***NOTE***
For newcomers to my blog, I know this post doesn’t make a good first impression, neither did my Manwhore Relapse post. Still, I ask for you to forgive. I swear I don’t make a habit of arguing with disabled girls and sleeping around. For the most part, I’m a nice guy...with occasional bad behavior that probably deserves a spanking.

My apologies to my Mother.

The Happy Act - Rewarding Pet Owners With $3,500

The simplest concepts in life tend to be the most beautiful. I do things for and with my dog for one simple reason - it makes me happy to see him happy. Really, that’s love in its purest form, completely unconditional. I’m not looking for a payback, even though I get one. You see, loving a pet is like performing a random act of kindness everyday, one that goes full circle and never ends. The happiness I give to him, he gives right back to me. That is my payback. But let’s be honest, caring for a pet has a price tag, there is a payout. If you read my post titled "Love Don’t Cost A Thing" you know just how pricey loving my pooch can sometimes be! The pet industry is a staggering $43 billion business! That’s $43 billion a year! So I know I’m not the only one shelling out big bucks for food, treats, toys, health care and swanky pet resorts in lieu of standard outdoor cement kenneling.

It’s no surprise that 63% of United States households own a pet. The human-animal bond has been shown to have a positive effect upon people's emotional and physical well being. In families with children, pets help to create a nurturing environment and provide ample educational opportunities. For people in later stages of life, pets offer important companionship. No matter the age of the owner, pets have been shown to reduce stress, safeguard against depression, improve social skills, and even ease loss.

Dogs are known to be man’s best friend. But they are so much more than just your four-legged BFF. Just the other day I read about a dog that served alongside his owner/fellow soldier in the Iraq war. Then when his master became injured and returned home, the dog didn’t stop working. The loyal canine not only became a service dog to the injured soldier, but his therapy dog as well, helping him cope with the anxiety and panic attacks brought on by post traumatic stress disorder. You tell me that isn’t a duo that deserves a break in life! So when I heard about a new bill being proposed called the Happy Act, I started to wag my tail!

(HR 3501 IH) The Happy Act, which stands for Humanity and Pets Partnered Through the Years, is a bill that would allow pet owners to deduct up to $3,500 off their yearly taxes for qualified pet care expenses. And in today's crappy economy, who couldn’t use an extra $3,500 in their pocket? Although the best part of all is that this will actually save pet’s lives! How you ask? Well think about it. Money is tight for everyone these days and the sad truth is that many people who are struggling to stay afloat look at their pet as an extra "unneeded" (ouch, that word makes me cringe) expense. They see their beloved pet as disposable income and simply dispose of them. That is why so many animal shelters are becoming overrun with unwanted, or rather unaffordable, pets. Pets are being put to sleep everyday and it’s simply heartbreaking. So if the Happy Act can’t help struggling pet owners deal with the cost associated with properly caring for a pet, I’m all for it!

I honestly think this will help keep our four-legged friends in our families where they belong. Where they can be properly cared for, live long and be loved like the perfect furry companions that they are. Because everyone deserves to be happy, even a dog.

***NOTE***
Please ReTweet this post to help spread the word about the Happy Act and join me in helping congress pass this bill.