Posted in Advice for Men, Advice for Women, Argument, Dating Advice for Men, Dating Advice for Women, Girl Stuff, Guy Stuff, Life, Life Lessons, Meaning of Life, Men's Health, Men's Issues, Mental Health, Nasty Woman, Personal Development, Professional Women, Uncategorized, women, Women's Issues

None of this F*ing Matters

nothing mattersIt was a comment on my desire to keep a tidy, welcoming, cozy home.  And it was correct.

In the end nothing matters.

We’re all on a path to the same destination; our mortality. I mean, who better to realize this than a mortician? Who better to appreciate libertine values?

In the end, does anything really  matter?   I suppose not, if you think about it. We all end up dead and sure as shootin’ the world carries on.

Who cares if your dirty undies take up space next to a sports bottle that has leaked on the white carpet? Only an asshole I suppose. I mean, after all, we’re all just getting older, and we all just want to be happy, right? So, who cares if all of the linens, dishes and groceries get tossed in various and sundry places? It keeps things exciting right? Besides, what’s life but a grand adventure?

There is no better quality of life than looking for shit because you haven’t the time to be organized or respect shared living space. Joie de vivre etcetera….

Bullshit and wrong. Absofuckinglutely wrong.

The same people who who claim to be chill, free spirits are the same people who expect you to respect what does f*ing matter to them; golf, football, bubble baths, not being woken up during their weekend naps, a welcoming home, the daily crossword, listening to the weather, being on time, morning coffee, evening tea…which means they expect you to respect them.

I was reminded that people who do not respect me do not care about what f*ing matters to me, and that costs me precious time.

“None of this fucking matters. I just want to be happy and live my life. You should try it.”

If you hear this, be sure to remind yourself that if you are loved and if you are respected, the little things that f*ing matter to you, will f*ing matter to them. The end.



Posted in Advice, Andshelaughs, Art, Artists, bloggers, Blogging, Creativity, Criticism, Free Speech, Free Thinkers, Girl Stuff, Guy Stuff, Leanin In, Life, Living, Meaning of Life, Men's Issues, Occupy, Psychology, Thereapy, Women's Issues, Writers, Writing

A Reason To Keep Writing

decisions todayI read a very short blog entry this morning at kelzbelzphotography about people criticizing the blog, topics and the writer.

It’s true, not everyone loves everything we write. I even get nasty comments from people I know, and people who only have the courage to identify as anonymous, the poor feckless arseholes.

I’ve even had a few rather threatening comments, and a few blog-stalkers, of whom I know their identities and whereabouts thanks to my obsession with the statistics page we have access to.

It’s important that we feel safe here, in the blogosphere of free speech that we are damn lucky to have. It’s also important to be brave, courageous, and supportive to other writers we feel a kinship with. For the others, in my case, the bigots, morons and close-minded, I either ignore them, or leave my opinion in a non-threatening way. You know, something delicate like, “Pull your head out of your butt hillbilly.”

You see, in this little space, many of us post our heart’s desires. This is where I come to tap out a few lines because I’m too busy to crack open the notebook on a new novel I’m writing. These few minutes launch me into my day and sate my proclivity to daydreaming and wasting my days away leaving the mundane to pile up like a big wad of anxiety in my mind.

We show you our stories, works of art and poetry. This is where we come to live out our creativity, and as you know baby-cakes, creativity is no mere sixth sense. No, it is the sacred expression of the human spirit.

The weekend blog-posts are written at my little writing desk with the morning sun streaming through the lace curtains and falling on the hearty green leaves of my beloved shamrock. From here I see the world and my future unfold where others might only see a weathered obelisque and the hyacinths beginning to poke their green heads through the grey-brown muck of early spring.

Posted in Entertainment, Girl Stuff, Health, Humor, Humour, Life, Men's Issues, Relationships, Sexuality, Singles, Women's Issues

Blog Dating

" You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. They always know." ~Unkown~
” You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. They always know.”

Blind dating, on-line dating, serial dating, I’ve done it all.

I’ve dated until I’m out-dated, fed-up, and quite seriously amused by the absurdity of it all.

Having grown tired of primping the girls and spending cash on twenty-dollar martinis, I had left the speed and direction of Cupid’s arrow up to the fates.

I’d been feeling kinda sorry for myself lately because my dating life had been derelict except for the occasional younger man, and acquiescence to boredom with no good intention other than not getting into my flannel nightie until after 10pm.

Having given up on-line dating a few years ago after having dated someone for almost three years who turned out to be trolling on-line dating sites prior to our break-up, I decided that the caliber of man to be met ‘on-line’ was not really the quality of lover I wished.

I’d decided to stick to real, in-the-flesh-men-brave-enough-to-have-a-face-to-face-conversation over the ones you meet on-line from gawd-only-knows-where, wanting gawd-only-knows-what.

As luck would have it, it’s the young ones who are ballsy enough and not-yet-jaded-beyond-hope who have done the asking. That’s a wonderful turn of the sheets darlings, but nothing that can satisfy a woman of a certain age for more than a couple of hours at a time.

This weekend I had my attitude adjusted just a little bit. A fellow blogger posted the sweetest, most sincere blog about his desire to find companionship and love. He inspired me to rethink going after what I want. Hell, I do it professionally, why not on the beautiful, river of love?

Ralph, author, master and keeper of  BlueFishWay,  posted his heart’s desire to find true love. Please click-through the link, because who knows, you could be the next Mrs. Ralph, or know someone who is interested.

Now, Ralph, the master of BlueFishWay, was not shy about letting the world know that he wants a companion, someone to share his life and joy.

This past weekend, I went to visit friends, and they had kindly invited a possible mate to their home as well. The Possible Mate was unfortunately tied up with family commitments in Quebec, but nonetheless, they had thought of me. Much appreciated. Please try again.

Seriously – keep trying!

So, for all of my friends out there, or readers who have single pals, do your duty to introduce us to eligible partners.

Caveat; you may be held responsible for either party being disappointed. More Significant Caveat;  you will be held responsible for dealing with our dead bodies and dozens of cats if you fail at this social duty.

I’m available for coffee, dinner engagements and social outings.

Darling, have your people call my people, and let’s make this happen.