Java with "Joe Bag of Doughnuts"

Just a Kiss

Brian Thorn — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 01:45:00 GMT

I want to start off by saying that I am well aware that Valentine's Day has come and gone already, but that said the snow is slowly melting here in Tiny Pop Land, which means soon Spring will be in the air. As you all well know when Spring comes a young man's fancy (and even deceivingly young looking middle aged men) turns to other things, one of those things being kissing. Now other than my two year old niece who I saw last week I haven't kissed a girl in nearly two months, and that is a friggin long dry spell for yours truly.

Why is kissing so important you might ask? Well besides the obvious, it is how all new relationships start, and how some sometimes end. It is an integral part to whole schmageggie doohickie thing we call romance. Some might disagree and say it's just a perk, but I firmly believe it is where it all truly begins. See you can talk to someone for months getting to know them, you can go out together with the intent of seeing where things might lead, but the bottom line is until you kiss that person you will never truly know if there is a future to be had together or not.

Ladies how many times have you said or heard a girlfriend say "It's all in the Kiss"? The funny thing is though is how many of you same ladies don't kiss on the first date and then wonder why so many men want too? I mean hello, we might come off like Neanderthrals at times but believe it or not we do "get it". I can't think of a single woman who wants to be with some guy that they can't stand kissing, no matter how good looking or rich he might be, and guess what, it goes the same for the guys. Imagine that?

That first kiss is so crucial because it is the gateway that leads to either a walk down the garden path of love or a dead end with buried bodies and police tape. Get it? Women want their toes to curl, to feel all tingly and like walking on air. Guys on the other hand, lets face it, we want a kiss that will put a rise in our levis so we can press it up against ya and let ya know how much we liked the kiss. It is what it is deal with it.

You can kiss your kids, you can kiss your Mom and Dad, your Granny, Brothers and Sisters what have you, hell you can even kiss your dog, but there is no kiss that means more to a man or a woman than that first kiss they share together. I mean no matter how you slice it, it all starts with just a kiss, so get to it!

Have fun ;)!

Who Are You

Brian Thorn — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 03:24:00 GMT

"I don't really know who you are."

That is a statement that was made to me today by someone I had been conversing with for nearly six months. It struck me as rather odd simply because we had been talking for so long, and because pretty much everything you could want to know about me is right here, all out there in the open for the reading in this very blog. If you wish to delve deeper I suppose one could read my poetry blog as well, or simply pose a question and get an answer. Why over complicate the fundamental?

Who are you? What exactly defines who you are? Are you defined by your age, sex, location, job, home, vehicle, family etc. etc., or is there more to you than just that? I should certainly like to think so. So far as I am concerned all those things are just statistics, and like most statistics, they don't have any real bearing on what's actually what. If anything they are just meaningless oversimplifications at best. Do those things really say anything about who you are? I don't believe so.

Now I can appreciate why my acquaintance made that statement, because lets face it there are a lot of people out there in this wild wicked world who go to great lengths to portray themselves as something they are not. It's a sad but all too true fact of life. As for me though, I never saw the point in that, and I have never been one to shy from making a point. As the old saying goes, "I would rather have you hate me for who I am, then love me for who I am not". Makes sense to me, but then most common sense makes sense to me, so go figure.

I came to realize a long, long time ago that I am not everyone's cup of tea, and quite frankly I am perfectly content with that notion. I have always believed that one should endeavor to spend their time in the company of those who enjoy their company, as opposed to being untrue to themselves so that they can spend time in the company of those who don't. I have reached a point in my life where I know who and what I am, and I don't see the reason to be any other way. I like myself very much. Clearly I know who I am, and now you do too. The question remains though.

Who are you?

Have fun ;)!

Gimme a "C"!

Brian Thorn — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 04:23:00 GMT

So the other night I spent the better part of 3 hours giving someone some advice on their love life. Seems the woman in question was under the incredibly silly impression that men and women can be "Best Friends". It just doesn't work that way folks. Now perhaps this could happen if one of the two in question was gay, married, or dead, but other than that as Billy Crystal's character "Harry" says in the movie "When Harry Met Sally", and I quote; "the sex always gets in the way". Yeah sure a person might let themselves be put in the dreaded "Friends Zone" if they think there is a chance for something more down the road, but trust me when I say that person isn't looking to be just "friends", no matter what they tell you. Argue if you must, but it is what it is, end of story.

Now in this case apparently this "best friend" was giving her a hard time and being downright mean at times, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why he was acting so strange. See what she failed to pick up on was that he was jealous, and that was causing him to take his frustrations out on her. Not saying he is right for doing so, but I understood why he was doing it. So I asked her how she felt about him and as it turned out, after much tooth pulling, she finally admitted she was in love with her "friend" and not in a "sisterly" way either. So I simply suggested she tell the guy how she felt, and see what he had to say. Well of course she then found out he was in love with her too. In short I was 100% correct in my observation. These two people were never really "friends" at all, they were just two people afraid to be hurt by saying what they really felt. No big deal really, my observation was just based on my knowledge of human nature, and some liberally applied common sense.

Now all that said, most of the time when a man decides to argue with a woman he goes about it all wrong, and ends up screwing himself over, as well as seriously messing things up with the woman in his life. So this episode of "Alphabet Soup" is dedicated to those men out there that just can't seem to get it right.

"Castigate"

To unfairly punish or censor someone for something they haven't done is to castigate. When you take your frustrations out on someone simply because you can't figure out how to deal with your own issues, more than likely you are gonna send that person heading for the hills. Castigating a woman is not likely to garner you the kind of results you are looking for. Not too many women I know are going to put up with a lot of castigation before they start looking for greener pastures, and you are left holding your pud in your hand with a stupid look on your face wondering "WTF did I do?"

"C_ _T"

Now you know the word I'm talking about here, it rhymes with "punt", and I won't even spell it out here because just by even implying the word I am gonna get way more hate mail than I'd like. We have the Germans to thank for the origin of this word, and believe it or not at one time it didn't have the negative connotation it does today. Now in some cases when a man elects to castigate a woman he might drop this word into the mix. All I can say is the minute that word leaves your mouth he might was well start looking for a new woman and hope the new one never finds out he ever said it. There are a lot of words a woman can get over, this isn't one of them, this one will literally drive them batshit, Freddie Krueger psycho insane on your ass. The use of this particular word is what will get a man stabbed, shot, forcibly physically emasculated, and probably killed by their otherwise loving female partner. I have no doubt John Bobbit used this word quite frequently.

"Cock"

Cock is a term used to describe a male rooster, and when "doodle do" is added as a suffix it's also the sound they make. Cock is also the slang for that male appendage dangling between your legs that you will be forced to become intimately familiar with or risk losing once you elect to castigate your woman and drop the "C" word on her. Just ask John Bobbit. For some bizarre reason some men also think that sending pictures of said dangly bit to a woman will make them more endearing somehow. It doesn't, and it ain't gonna make up for castigating her and using the "C" word either, it's only gonna make her start thinking of sharp impliments. You don't want that, trust me.

"Charisma"

If you have a point you wish to make to the woman in your life, or perhaps even a bone to pick, it is probably best that you turn on the old charisma. For every negative thing you have to say you had best have at least two positive things to say to her otherwise your woman is going to tune you out in rather short order, and start thinking about all those Match.com ads she keeps seeing on TV and hearing on the radio everyday. It's okay to look right? Being charismatic can go a long long way with the women in your life, as well as your life in general. I highly suggest you try it. If you don't know what charisma means then fucking look it up. I'm already doing all the work here to make your relationship work, which is probably what your woman is thinking too.

"Candy"

Now if being charismatic is something you can't seem to grasp, well you can always try to sweeten the deal, or soften the blow with some Candy. Women love candy, it is a matter of fact, and rumor has it that Chocolates specifically, can work miracles. Even chocolate starts with a "C" too, go figure huh? All that said though, if you elect to drop the "C" word when you castigate a woman, even a box of Cock shaped Chocolate Candy ain't gonna bail you out of the jam you've gotten yourself into, so you would be better off saving the money on the Candy, and buying yourself an electric C_ _t instead.

So gentlemen, here is my simple suggestion to you; if something is frustrating you, don't castigate your woman, talk to her nicely instead. Use your charisma liberally, but keep a box of candy around in case that doesn't go over very well. Whatever you do, under no circumstances use the "C" word or you will be left either holding your own Cock in your hands, or she will have it in her purse when she leaves your sorry ass to go date that guy she met on Match.com. Likewise, for those women out there that still think men and women can just be "Best Friends", I strongly suggest you head down to the local video store and grab a copy of "When Harry Met Sally" right quick. Hope this helped.

Have fun ;)!

Black Coffee in Bed: A Kiss to Build a Dream On

Brian Thorn — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 20:15:00 GMT

So after sitting on my shelf for nearly a month, I finally popped "The Secret" into my DvD player. I first came in contact with "The Secret" several months ago, when an old girlfriend showed me the book. I gave it a quick scan and decided it might be a good book worth purchasing. That said, I still haven't gotten around to buying it yet. When I was searching the web to find out where I could get a copy of the book I learned that there was a movie about the book, so I logged onto Netflix and sure enough there it was. I ordered it and as I said I let it gather dust on my shelf.

Now I haven't finished watching the movie yet either. I didn't start watching it till 2am last night and I was already tired so I fell asleep before it was half way through. I will more than likely start it again from the beginning when I am not so tired and watch it all the way through in the next few days.

Now for those who are unfamiliar with "The Secret" it about the metaphysical laws that govern life on our world, and more importantly about the power of attraction. The premise being that we attract to us that which we want the most and spend our energy thinking about. If we think good things, then good things will happen in our lives and if we think bad things, well then that will happen too. In short we are are talking about the power of positive thinking and how it shapes our lives, and while I am not the type to go in for all that metaphysical crap, it does seem to have its roots in common sense, and those who know me know that common sense is something that I am all about.

So why talk about this instead of just getting to the song? Well in the part of the movie that I did see, it talked about how our moods affects our thoughts and thus attracts to us whatever those thoughts might be. One suggestion was that things like music, and pets, and things of that nature can improve our mood and thus our thoughts and what happens. As I was driving to my appointment today a very popular Louis Armstrong song "What a Wonderful World" came on the radio,and while I like that song too, my favorite Louis Armstrong song has always been "A Kiss to Build a Dream On ". That song has always made me feel good and put me in a good mood, so as soon as I got home I looked it up, and well as they say out here in Tiny Pop Land; "there ya go".

So heres to hoping that this song will likewise put you in a good mood, and will cause you to have good thoughts so that good things will happen in your life too. Enjoy!

Have fun ;)!

Armstrong-A Kiss to build a dream on-
Uploaded by boberwig

Bright and Shinie Distractions

Brian Thorn — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 03:17:00 GMT

Wow three weeks since my last entry. Okay I have to confess I am seriously slacking when it comes to keeping the blog up to date. Go figure huh? I mean wasn't it yours truly who suggested that most New Years resolutions are forgotten by St. Patty's Day? Well as they like to say out here in Tiny Pop Land; "There ya go!"

Now its no great secret to those that know me well that I get bored easily, as such I tend to pop from interest to interest at a moments notice with some regularity. I really can't seem to help it. Either I am developing some middle age version of ADD or I am part Raven. Thankfully I have neither the Nintendo twitch, or the molting that goe with either of the former. It just seems that every time I see something "Bright and Shinie" I become distracted and run off to pursue whatever the new thing might be. Thankfully at some point I eventually get somewhat bored with whatever that new thing might be and I return like the proverbial cow coming home, chicken to roost, or the bad penny.

These past few weeks have been a whirlwind of work, bed rest (was sick quite a bit recently), and new time killers. Thanks to Jeremy at work I have become so hopelessly addicted to these little time killing apps at MySpace that maintaining and playing them has become somewhat of a second job. I also recently discovered the TV series "Heroes". OMFG it's so cool!

As some of you may or may not know I own a TV but I don't watch regular TV (I use it primarily to watch DVD's on). I don't have cable, and I don't even own so much as a TV antennae to pick up the local stuff. I stopped watching commercial TV after 9/11 as I found it too depressing. That said though, this "Heroes" series is fucking awesome. I have watched the first two seasons now (watched the first season in one day when I was sick) thanks to instant viewing courtesy of Netflix, and I am half way through the 3rd season now. I can't wait to see what happens next.

I also recently began a new writing project that I am having a lot of fun with at the moment. It obviously doesn't involve this blog as I clearly haven't done shit with the blog in weeks. It also doesn't involve poetry either, because my poetry blog has become even more ignored than Jw/JBoD. I am writing though, and if my new project becomes as popular as I hope, I might even turn it into a book. Time will tell, but that secret isn't popping out of the bag any time soon, doughnuts or otherwise.

I mainly wanted to pop in and post an entry so my regular readers don't think I have completely abandoned them. Hell maybe I will actually get around to writing the final chapter of "The Adventures of Fatman and Bush Girl" as atonement for my being gone for so long. Ya just never know so by all means stay tuned, something new is on the horizon. OMFG what's that over there???

Have fun ;)!

Gimme a "B"!

Brian Thorn — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 20:43:00 GMT

Time for another installment of "Alphabet Soup with Joe Bag of Doughnuts", and today we are going to explore the letter "B".

"Bastard"

Bastard is commonly used to refer to a child who is born out of wedlock and thus illegitimate. Bastard is also the name of the Evil Fairy who fucks up your day, your week, and perhaps even your Life. Ever trip going up the stairs while carrying a tray of BBQ ribs and have it end up all over your white shirt? Well you can thank the Evil Bastard Fairy for that.

"Bitch"

Bitch is the term used to describe a female dog. It is also likewise used to describe a woman who fucks up your day, or the whore working the street for some pimp. Chances are it was a Bitch who gave birth to the Evil Bastard Fairy. Life too can be a Bitch, because let's face it, if Life was easy it would be a Slut.

"Booze"

Booze is a nectar of the Gods that can help one forget about how the Evil Bastard Fairy fucked up your day, or how that Bitch screwed with your plans, or how Life is such a Bitch. Coincidentally the God commonly attributed with giving mankind Booze was Bacchus who's name also starts with a "B". Some favorite types of Booze likewise start with "B", namely Beer, Brandy and Bourbon, all of which will help one to forget the Bastards, Bitches, and Life, if drunk in copious amounts.

"Bar"

A Bar is a place where one can go to drink copious amounts of Booze, and commiserate with others who are likewise Bitching and trying to forget how the Evil Bastard Fairy, and that Bitch screwed up their day. If one spends enough time consuming Booze in a Bar, one might even meet a new Bitch. Bar also refers to something that can be raised. By raising the Bar one can perhaps avoid falling prey to the Evil Bastard Fairy, or hooking up with another Bitch. While the Bartender might miss your company at the Bar, your liver won't miss all the Booze that is slowly over time destroying it.

So what does all this mean you might ask? Well when you are having one of those days, or weeks, or years, where it seems like the Evil Bastard Fairy is stalking you, or some Bitch is, or Life is just not going as you expected, well you are probably better off raising the Bar rather than going to a Bar and drinking Booze to try and forget about it all. Just a thought mind you, but hell its worth a shot, or two, or three. I personally prefer Tequila.

Cheers ;)!

What a Pain in the Glass!

Brian Thorn — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 02:59:00 GMT

You know I don't mind driving in the snow out here in Tiny Pop Land. Hell I don't even mind driving on the ice, no matter how many times I nearly end up in the ditch. That is what 4 wheel drive is for, and I have a Jeep Wrangler which loves that shit. What I do mind however is having to shell out a couple hundred bucks every few months to replace a fucking windshield. What the fuck is up with that?

Somehow I have managed to own 8 vehicles over the last 29 years I have been driving, and not once did I ever have to replace a windshield on a single one of them before moving to Tiny Pop Land. In the 17 months I have lived here I have replaced 3 windshields so far. Seriously what the fuck is up with that?

I replaced the first one within 5 months of living here. I replaced the next one in the middle of last Summer. I replaced the last one less than a month ago, and guess what? I have to fucking replace yet another one now. It started on Wednesday and it is now fully running from top to bottom and about to go left to right as well.

For starters, I would love to know what rocket scientist came up with the brilliant fucking idea to use rock as a traction control when it snows (I am guessing Iowa). Where exactly did that moron think all the rock was gonna end up? Apparently it's going to end up drawn to my windshield like a fly to shit. More importantly what is his address so I can send him the fucking bill for all these windshields.

Has no one out here in the Midwest ever heard of Sand and Salt for traction control? Hell even used kitty litter would be preferable to Quartzite, which serves no real purpose other than breaking glass. It would be a helluva lot cheaper to wash cat shit off my windshield than to keep paying to replace them. I figure I can get about 20 weeks worth of car washes for what it costs to replace a single windshield, and that is about 5 weeks longer than the average windshield seems to last out here.

So how about it you Nimrods in charge of this kinda stuff? How about you leave the radioactive Quartzite safe and sound in the ground where it can continue to slowly kill everyone drinking untreated water from one of the local wells, and instead come up with something else to resolve the Winter traction issue other than using rock, or how about I just start sending my repair bills to the State House? Your choice, but I will be damned if I am paying for another windshield replacement after this one. Think I am fucking kidding?

Have fun ;)!

Black Coffee in Bed: Short Skirt/Long Jacket

Brian Thorn — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:46:00 GMT

You know most of the time you can ask a person what they like, and it will take them a bit to think it over before they can come up with an answer, that is of course assuming they do come up with an answer, which doesn't always happen. Ask them what they don't like, and the words spew forth like some malignant verbal diarrhea from the 9th circle of Hell. Trust me I have seen it happen.

Ask someone what they want, or don't want, and more or less the same thing will happen. Go figure huh? More often than not the reason we don't get what we want is because we don't have a fucking clue what it is we want, or worse how to go about getting it if we do. I figure part of this is because most don't give much thought to what it is they really want most (spending too much time on the "don't want" list). Either that or what most want is so complex and the list so unbelievably long that there is no way it can or will ever happen. Mores the pity I guess.

I can sorta relate to the second part because I remember back when I first got divorced I compiled a list of what I wanted in the next woman I became involved with that was so ridiculously unrealistic that no women on the face of the Earth could ever possibly fit the bill. It took me years to realize that as with most things it's best to Keep It Simple Stupid (K.I.S.S.)! So over the years I have pared that list down to what is most important to me personally. It was so simple. Now I am just looking for the woman that is holding the perfect cup of coffee (for me) who is as excited to be with me as I am with her. When you really think about it, what more does one really need? If she happens to be wearing a Short Skirt and a Long Jacket too, well then I am all over that shit.

Have fun;)!

I've Been Plagiarized!

Brian Thorn — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 22:11:00 GMT

Sonovafuckingbitch! I've been plagiarized! Yesterday I came across a MySpace profile page and as I was reading the blogs on it I came across a blog entry called "For Bill on his Birthday", from October of last year. When I opened it up there was a poem inside that seemed way too familiar to me. I also found it rather odd that it seemed to be cut off at the bottom, and the font looked exactly like the one I use on my poetry blog.

I went back today and read it over and over, and each time I did the words just seemed more and more familiar to me. Then it hit me, the words seemed so familiar to me because I had written them myself nearly two years ago. It was then I realized I had been plagiarized and my words presented as a gift to someone else with someone else taking the credit for it. Needless to say I am fucking major league pissed.

Now ordinarily I would be flattered that someone used some of my poetry to make someone else happy, but I mean shit, give me credit for it, don't be passing it off as your own writing. The piece in question was called "Matawan Summers" and I wrote it back in June of 2007. It goes like this:

"Matawan Summers"

Look at life with simple smile
Pass the time on idle while
Summer days change Summer nights
Beneath a starry sky of lights

Perchance to beats of different dance
In stranger arms to find romance
As in the end you may never know
So live for now as always though

Soon comes the time when colors change
The winds blow leaves to rearrange
The things of Summer we thought we knew
As I pass the time and think of you

(c) Brian_Thorn 6/29/07

Now as much as I am tempted to post the user name of the woman in question who plagiarized me, I am not a cyber-bully. I will say this much though, if you Google the first two lines of my poem you will find a link to the blog entry in question. I wrote this poem for a young woman I was interested in back when I lived in New Jersey, long before I moved to the Midwest. It was originally posted on a poetry forum that I write on regularly, and later on my own poetry blog here. I am so incredibly furious about this, that I am at a loss as to what to do about it, other than rant about it here. Any suggestions?

Have fun ;)!

Aren't Moms Fucking Awesome?

Brian Thorn — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 04:03:00 GMT

Yesterday I had mentioned how I had won an award and was looking to indulge in one of my guilty little pleasures in celebration, and yet couldn't find any licorice toffee or maple sugar candy anywhere. Well at the time I wrote that entry I had forgotten that I had received a package in the mail from my Mom that morning. It was so late when I finally got home that I just dropped it on the desk, and forgot about it until this afternoon.

Well as I began to straighten up my place today before heading out to my business engagements, I saw the package and decided I better open it. All I am gonna say is this:

"MY MOM IS FUCKING AWESOME!!!"

Let me explain the reason for my exuberant expletive filled adulation. Now something you should know about my Mom is that she tends to get kinda stuck on things. When I first moved into my house I made casual mention that I was torn between decorating my kitchen in a coffee theme or apples. As such I now own (6) Apple themed pot holders, (5) Apple themed dish towels, several boxes of Apple themed napkins, and Apple themed place mats. Mom isn't exactly all that big on Coffee, so hence her choice in what she elected to send me.

I also mentioned to Mom at one point that I might decorate the rest of my home in kind of a "Hunter's Lodge" theme and that I like Moose. So in addition to the apple stuff she sent yesterday she also sent a little Moose figurine carved from wood. I can add this to the "It Moose Be Done" to do list pad she sent and the Moose napkin set. In the past I mentioned I might want to get an English Bulldog as a pet at some point, and with her knowing my lifestyle won't allow for one right now, she sent me a stuffed one instead. Yeah I have a stuffed dog, fucking deal with it!

The best part though is this; she sent me (3) packages of Licorice toffee. I swear the woman is psychic or something. I mean how could she have possibly known? Now granted (2) packages are sugar-free (she is a Mom after all and a former dental hygienist to boot), but she did send one with full on sugar. Now I should note that my Mom's sweet tooth runs the same as mine, so the fact she gave up the goods rather than feast on them herself just shows how much she loves her son. Prying some maple sugar candy away from her would be a major feat though.

She also sent a sweet valentines card with a $10 bill in it. She can be so cute like that. I love my Mom, there is no denying that, but she never ceases to amaze me even to this day, and always comes through when you least expect it. It's almost a shame we only celebrate Mother's Day once a year.

Mom was diagnosed with Sarcoidosis in her lungs several years ago and it has really taken its toll on her energy levels, and health in general. In the past she always went overboard with both us kids and the grand-kids, and we have finally managed to get her to slow down at least a little bit for her health's sake, but yet she is still always thinking of us whenever she is out and about making her rounds about the town. I am eternally grateful for a Mom like that. Love ya Mom, and thanks again!

Have fun ;)!

Guilty Litle Pleasures

Brian Thorn — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 05:46:00 GMT

Okay so we all know what "guilty little pleasures" are because we all have them, no need for me to go into some lengthy dissertation on the subject. Today I was presented with an award at work and I figured I would treat myself to one of mine, but sadly there were none to be found as I made my way through the day. The Thing I am curious about though is what exactly makes them so guilty?

In the case of yours truly, I know what make mine "guilty". For instance, I love Black Licorice Toffee and Pure Maple Sugar candy which any Dentist worth their salt will tell you will rot the teeth out of your head faster than Meth Amphetamines. When I find it, I will buy all that there is available and that my wallet can afford. My Maple sugar addiction is so acute that it is akin to heroin junkie status, so I partake of it only in small doses on rare occasions. I can make a single piece last 6 months if need be.

Another of my guilty pleasures is watching "Chick Flicks" and listening to songs by the band "Abba" (although I don't own any of their cd's). Being a fully functional and healthy hetrosexual male it is not hard to understand why this is not a subject I broach when hanging out with the guys. I also have one song in particular that never ceases to lift my spirits, and I will blast at full volume whenever I am alone, something were it witnessed would most definitely falsely set off the "Gaydar" of my male colleagues. It is a song that Gloria Gaynor might have made famous, but the band "Cake" made cool. You can watch the video of it below, but before you do, what are you guilty little pleasures? I am most curious.

Have fun ;)!

Minnesota Nice

Brian Thorn — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 22:05:00 GMT

As some of you may know I have lived in Minnesota for about one year and four months now. Some of you may also know that I am originally from New Jersey, and even fewer still will know that I was born in "Da Bronx" New York. Some likewise know that I am a Sales Rep, and as such I spend much of my time meeting with people, and getting to know them through conversation. It is why I love what I do for a living. I love getting to know new people.

Invariably over the course of a conversation when people find out where I come from originally I get asked two things; the first is why don't I have a New Jersey accent, (it's because there isn't one, not all New Jerseyans talk like the New Yorkers you see in "The Sopranos") and inevitably the second question is what in the heck prompted me to move from New Jersey to the small podunk town I live in in Minnesota. My answer is always the same; it's just nicer out here. It really is.

Now last night I was watching the Movie "Fargo" by the Coen Brothers, and when the movie was over there was a short documentary about the making of the film called "Minesota Nice". Turns out the Coen Brothers were raised in and around the Twin Cities, and as most know the location for the movie centers around Fargo South Dakota, and both Brainerd and Minneapolis Minnesota. What I also learned was that despite what it says at the beginning of the film, the story is in fact not based on a true story as claimed. More importantly what the documentary introduced me to was the concept of "Minnesota Nice", and what an epiphany that was for me.

See folks, ever since moving out here I have been both delighted, and incredibly frustrated by the native residents of Tiny Pop land, and I was never truly able to put my finger on why untill that very moment. Now that I understand what the deal is out here I finally understand why it is both a wonderful and at the same time an incredibly irritating thing for me. For the most part the people here in Tiny Pop Land are all simply being "Minnesota Nice".

If you google the term "Minnesota Nice" you will find the following definition:

"Minnesota nice is the steriotypical behavior of long-time Minnesota residents to provide hospitality and courtesy to others. The term is also sometimes used in a derogatory way, to connote a sort of smiling stubbornness, forced politeness,false humility or passive-aggressive hostility."

Oh my God what an eye opener that was. Now it literally makes so much sense. For the most part people in Tiny Pop Land are so concerned about being polite and hospitable that trying to get them to actually say what they are thinking or feeling is about as likely as pounding a nail into a board with your forehead, and nearly as painful. It is apparently something that is ingrained into them from birth, and is both a blessing and a curse.

As a sales rep you can only imagine how frustrating it is when a person refuses to simply say "no" only because they don't wish to offend you. You literally have to drag it out of them. Finding out the reason why can be even more stressful. See a good sales rep can certainly do something with a "yes", and can even do something with a "no" if they understand the reason behind it, but what we get out here is something I have come to refer to as the "Midwestern Probably", and it drives me batshit insane whenever I hear it, because it doesn't mean anything one way or the other. To make matters worse I find myself using it now more and more too, and that scares the bejesus out of me.

Coming from the East Coast where people are more inclined to make no bones about what they are thinking and will eagerly share such in a straightforward manner, you can imagine the culture shock I have been adjusting to out here in the last year or so. I mean don't get me wrong like most I prefer a friendly wave of the hand to a flipping of the bird, but out here in hindsight knowing what I know now, you simply will never truly know whether someone is waving hello, or really flipping you the bird with four fingers instead of just one.

Given the headache this can create in a business scenario, one can only begin to fathom what this can do on a more personal level. I finally understand why so many of the women I have met out here can't be bothered to say how they really feel, and likewise why so many find my particular brand of brutal honesty so appealing and attractive, at least for a little while. It is simply something new and refreshing that they aren't accustomed too. Good for them I guess, but really sucks for me who prefers to hear what's what straight up, and feels like a moron looking for a quarter in the corner of a round room every time I try to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Now there are inherently good things about being "Minnesota Nice" too. If you prefer to avoid any conflict to the point of never actually resolving anything well this is surely the place for that. If you prefer a smile to a scowl regardless of what lies behind that smile you will find plenty of that here too. If you are searching for a feel good peice of mind sensibility where you can collect your thoughts despite the fact that they might eat you up inside, well by all means "Minnesota Nice" is the way to be. That said you can just as easily obtain the same peice of mind with a good prescription of prozac, which is dispensed like candy out here. Go figure?

Seriously though, people are incredibly, and I would like to believe genuinely helpful, and hospitable out here in Tiny Pop Land. More so anyways than where I came from, which is a fact I confess I am still rather enamored with regardless of whether that sense of hospitality is genuine or simply forced by some communal cultural edict of the region. Nice can be nice no matter how it's dished out.

"Minnesota Nice" means you can be sure that If you are broken down on the road, there is little doubt someone will stop to help you, and that is a good thing. If you are likely to be home too late to do it yourself, someone will bring your trash cans in from the curb for you so they don't go blowing down the street. If you are away for a while and your grass gets too long, someone will cut it for you. I have experienced all these things out there, and found it both surprising and comforting.

When I walk into a strangers home for the first time I am almost always offered some coffee or something to snack upon as well as some pleasant conversation before we get down to business. I think that is a nice thing, and albeit unsettling to someone like myself who unaccustomed to such, it is probably just as unsettling as my straightforward nature is to those who are "Minnesota Nice". It makes for both some fun and awkward moments to be sure. That said, now that I know what "Minnesota Nice" is all about I will be able to better spot the sincere from the insincere, or in the least understand what is going on, and in a way that is a nice thing too.

Have fun ;)!

Gimme an "A"!!!!

Brian Thorn — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 04:50:00 GMT

Well it's been nearly two weeks since my last entry, so the game plan isn't going as well... "planned" so far as the new year goes. At least so far as my plans for this blog anyways. Hell I haven't even written any new poetry in three weeks and I normally do that every day. As they say; you can't put the shit back into the goose so as they also say; we are "moving on"!

There has been a lot going on these past few weeks (in my life anyways), but nothing particularly blog worthy, other than perhaps to note that the commercials during the Superbowl this year more or less sucked, and we got another dose of how poorly Bruce Springsteen is aging during the half time show. I intended to post another Barracks Ohpleasebombus update by now as well as a new "Black Coffee in Bed" entry, but seeing as those are the last two things I posted I feel there needs to be something in between so it doesn't seem repetitive.

I gave a lot of thought as I was driving today to see what I might come up with to write about, and strongly considered starting a "How to Avoid Being a Stupid Girl/Boy" guide to dating series of articles, but as I gave it further thought I came to the realizaton that I might be able to make a buck or two writing that, so I ain't gonna give it away for free here. Instead I plumbed the limitless resources of my imagination and decided to simply rehash something I did on another blog I used to likewise be more timely in updating. Kinda the way Hollyweird is rehashing movies and TV shows these days. So without further adieu:

Alphabet Soup with Joe Bag of Doughnuts: The Letter A

"Apathy"

Apathy is the reason I probably haven't posted a new entry in the blog for a while. I suppose that despite all that has been going on recently, I have been rather apathetic about it all. One might call it a bad case of the "mehs" or simply seasonal affective disorder. Who knows and to be honest who really cares? I know I don't because as I said already I've been rather apathetic about everything lately.

"Apoplexy"

Apoplexy normally refers to sudden death that begins with a loss of consciousness, and comes from the Greek word for seizure. Thankfully it can also mean a state of rage or excitement. Now I am clearly not in a state of rage, as I have been rather apathetic till recently, but I am somewhat excited at the moment hence why I have elected to forego apathy and do some much needed writing.

"Amorous"

When one begins to feel Amorous it can be the result of an apoplectic sense of excitement, leastwise one would hope so anyways. As Valentine's Day rushes ever closer it is only natural that a man's or woman's thoughts turn to something of a romantic nature, and as a result he or she may become amorous. Feeling amorous is certainly a good way to stave of feelings of apathy to be sure. I suppose this is at least one good reason for not hating the French so much, as without those frog munching surrender monkeys we wouldn't have this word to bandy about.

"Autoerotic"

Now when a man or woman begins to feel amorous, but doesn't have a partner to expend those feelings upon, this can create quite the pickle, or lack thereof to either have or place the pickle in. This in turn can be quite frustrating and lead directly back to feelings of apathy or apoplexy (and we ain't talking the good kind here). Seeing as rage is never a useful emotion thankfully one can instead decide to become Autoerotic. While not nearly as satisfying as having your pickle and eating it too, or having a place to put your pickle, it is said "nobody drives it like the owner" and there is probably a good reason why they say that.

So what does this all mean you ask? Well here we go; as Valentine's day approaches should you find yourself in a state of apathy or apoplexy that leads to either unsated amorous inclination, or rage because you have no pickle or place to put said pickle into, remember you can always take matters into your own hands by being autoerotic and do something about it. It sure beats the hell out of planning your own Valentine's Day massacre. Take my word on that.

Have fun ;)!

Black Coffee in Bed: That Thing You Do

Brian Thorn — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 07:18:00 GMT

So I was tired and decided to put a movie on. Well the Netflix offerings that had come in the mail didn't look too appetizing (You Don't Mess With The Zohan) so I decided to dig through my DvD collection and see what I might want to watch again. Well that didn't go as planned either, so I decided to try Netflix Online and came across an oldie but a goodie from 1996 called "The Wonders". Not sure what it is about this flick but I love it, and its one of those movies I can watch over and over again without getting bored of it.

As it happens one of the reasons I liked it so much was the song that made "The Wonders" a one hit wonder. So sit back and enjoy this clip from the movie and the song "That Thing You Do" by the Wonders.

Have fun ;)!

Change! "Barracks Ohpleasebombus" Update #1

Brian Thorn — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 02:17:00 GMT

Okay so now he is officially "In", and all the Liberal Democraps and Johnny/Janey come lately bandwagon jumpers are gonna finally have their faith put to the test. I just want to be the first to officially say "I told you so!"

"Change, Change, Change", is all we heard from this guy the entire time he was shaking hands and kissing babies amidst all you clowns with nothing better to do or believe in. Well now that he is in office, what changes are you noticing in your life? Where is the Panacea of Unicorns and cloud dancing puppies?

Yeah I know already what some of you are saying "Well it's just his first day", but to hear good ole Barracks Ohpleasebombus tell it (and even worse some of his sycophantic supporters tell it), it was like his "Historic" Inauguration was going to be akin to the "Second Coming". I am sorry but this clown is no bloody Martin Luther King, and he sure as hell isn't JFK in black face, and to be frank I have no clue why anyone would wish to follow in the footsteps of either of those philandering jokers. I personally see nothing particularly Historic about all this hubbub. This guy isn't an Afro-American, he is an American, and we have had a rather long line of Americans sitting in the White House throughout the history of this great country.

Now all that said, I didn't watch the Inauguration, and I sure as hell didn't watch the circus of tax payer funded parties and concerts celebrating the occasion. I don't watch TV anymore for good reason. I mean honest to God, who needs to be reminded of how badly that sell out Bruce Springsteen is aging? I can say that because I grew up in the same home town, and he looks absolutely craptacular.

So what has changed? Well I noticed today at the gas pump that gas is $0.30 higher than it was last week. I noticed the economy is still more or less in the shitter. I noticed that the War in Iraq and Afghanistan is still going on strong. I even went so far as to check my mailbox today and there was no big whopping check addressed to me from the new Regime. So other than changing my socks, my sheets, and my trash can liner, not much has changed in the last 24 hours, and I reckon I would have changed all those things no matter who was in office. Change! What Me Worry?

Have fun ;)!

Opening Doors

Brian Thorn — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 06:29:00 GMT

Well I finally got home after an enjoyable three day stint on the road, and I came to realize that I hadn't posted an entry to the blog in well over a week. No idea where all that time went, but I did make a promise to myself that this year I would be a bit more cognizant as to how frequently I posted my updates. Ideally I would love to update my blog every day (as most other bloggers do), but that doesn't seem to always go as planned, leastwise not in my life.

When I sat down and thought about what I wanted to write tonight, nothing readily came to mind, that is until I started staring at all the open doorways in my house and it made me realize just how many doorways I had yet to open in my life, and fortunately for me, how few permanently closed ones there were. This led me to the thought that I have placed in the image above.

So often we are so concerned about the unknown that we fore go opportunities because of this fear. In short we leave doors closed that would serve us better if they were opened. Whether it is due to negative past experience, or simply fear of the devil we don't know, we end up staying contently where we are, and are not always the better for it.

This is a brand new year, albeit 20 days into it, and so much is changing all around us even as we speak. These changes will no doubt cause trepidation for some, and reason to hope for others. As for me, I prefer to look at the coming year as a year of doors yet to be opened, so perhaps we would do well to change with it and open new doors rather than sit securely behind our unopened doors wondering if these changes will bring us joy or sorrow. With this in mind, as I trek through the hallway of the months ahead I will endeavor to open new doors while doing something I have never done in the past, which simply stated is to not feel so compelled to close other doors behind me. It will be a somewhat scary thing for me, but I know that what I find on the other side of a closed door is only that which I bring with me through it.

It is said that people come and go in our life for a reason, and that we travel the path we are on for a specific reason as well. While I don't know if this is indeed true or not, it makes some modicum of sense to me, and as such I firmly believe that in order to continue on down this path, one must indeed open new doors and see where they lead us and to whom they lead us to. While some may consider this akin to Stockton's famous short story of the "Lady or the Tiger", I prefer to believe that there is a better than 50/50 chance that what I will find behind a closed door will be desirable rather than detrimental, presuming of course that I open said door with an open mind. What's your take?

Have fun ;)!

Carrots, Eggs, and Coffee

Brian Thorn — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 19:42:00 GMT

A very dear friend sent me an email this morning and in it was a story that I sincerely believe is worth repeating. In the email my friend suggested that it was sent because of my love for coffee (which if you aren't aware of that by now, you haven't been reading this blog enough), but in truth I would like to think there was more to it than just that. So without further adieu here is the story:

Carrots, Eggs, and Coffee
A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up, She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, ' Tell me what you see.'

'Carrots, eggs, and coffee,' she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee.The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, 'What does it mean, mother?'

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

'Which are you?' she asked her daughter. 'When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?'

Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling.

Live your life so at the end, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

Be the Bean!

Have fun ;)!

Black Coffee in Bed: Tubthumping

Brian Thorn — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 06:11:00 GMT

Well 2009 hasn't started off exactly as I might have liked, but being the ever eternal optimist I just figure that I am getting all the bad out of the way early to make room for the good yet to come. I won't bore you with all the details of what the last 11 days have put on my plate, so let's just say I have tossed that particular plate in the trash as it isn't worth the washing.

As I was driving around on Saturday as per my usual I had the radio blaring, and what song should come on but this oldie but goodie that simply reminded me that I may get knocked down, but I get up again. They ain't never gonna keep me down. Thanks for the reminder Chumbawamba!

Have fun ;)!

Thornism #3

Brian Thorn — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 05:36:21 GMT

Have you ever had a pattern in your life that seems to keep repeating? I think at one point or another we all have. Whether it's in our work life, or in our personal life, from time to time patterns seem to develop that happen over and over again. Human nature being what it is, most will look beyond themselves for the reason these things keep happening, but fact of the matter is that those who go that route are missing the bigger picture.

See life is a lot like mathematics. One plus One should always equal Two. If you are doing the math in your own life and One plus One equals Three, well then chances are the condom broke, which sometimes isn't all that bad. If One plus One equals One, well normally that One is going to be you. If One plus One equals Zero, well then you are really fucked.

See I look at these patterns like this, and hence the reason for the following Thornism:

"You are the lowest common denominator in your own life, so if things aren't adding up for you the way you expected them to, well then chances are you need to go back and redo the fucking math till they do."

Now I am not trying to suggest that there aren't some times when external reasons cause patterns to occur, I mean shit does happen. That said though, most of the time if you find yourself in some recurring cycle that you would simply rather not play a part in, there is a really good chance that the reason it is happening to you is because of the choices you have made yourself. It doesn't take a degree in mathematics to figure that much out. Hell I flunked algebra and I see the logic in that.

How many times have you had a friend tell you that they lost their job yet again? They will point the finger of blame everywhere but where it really belongs. They will blame the boss, they will blame the company, they will blame the work load, but you and I both know the reason they lost their job yet again is because they always got up late or went into work hung-over all the time, and as such their quality of work simply sucked so they got fired. Simple math, but yet the answer evades so many no matter how many times you tell them to return to the chalkboard.

I cannot tell you how many times I have read on a dating site forum the laments of a woman who ended up having yet another one night stand they weren't happy about. Naturally the word "playa" starts getting bandied about heavily, and that fickle finger of blame starts doing its pointing dance everywhere but where it needs to get pointed. God forbid if you try to redirect it to the proper source, you will get your head chewed off by a screaming mob of women (been there done that). Now common sense dictates that if the same situation keeps happening over and over to a particular woman, chances are it has little to do with the guys, and a lot more to do with the woman in question, because she is the lowest common denominator in that particular equation, and it is rarely for the reason she wants to face, hence the blame game.

See I figure it goes like this in that particular scenario; either she is making horrible choices in terms of the men she is electing to meet (not doing the math first), or the sex simply sucked. I am inclined to believe it is a combination of both but with emphasis on the latter. I mean common sense again dictates that even a would be "playa" will skulk around for another "bootie call" if the sex was any good, so if he doesn't chances are it wasn't worth coming back for seconds now is it? Let's be honest if that is the case she is better off not knowing, because no one wants do hear the truth in that case do they? Now this is not gender specific, but you rarely hear a man complaining about this particular issue do you? Why do you suppose this is?

It always seems so easy to blame something other than what it is for what happens in our lives, and the last person we ever want to blame is ourselves, but I believe it is high time we simply started taking some personal responsibility for what happens in our life and the choices we make. You simply cannot have your cake and eat it too, no matter how you do the math.

Benjamin Franklin is famous for saying "The definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result". I am inclined to agree with him, and I use that particular chestnut on a sadly regular basis when giving advice to those who ask for it. It is not that I think most people are insane but rather that many lack the common sense that should be so common, hence the name common sense.

"You are the lowest common denominator in your own life, so if things aren't adding up for you the way you expected them to, well then chances are you need to go back and redo the fucking math till they do."

So if you still don't see yet that you are penultimately the one responsible for what happens in your own life, well then you need to seriously wake up and smell the coffee burning. That's all I really have to say about that.

Have fun ;)!

Go West Young Man...for 5.4 Miles then North for 13.1 Miles Then Make a Left into an Open Field

Brian Thorn — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 05:14:00 GMT

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

You know before I moved to the Midwest it would have never occurred to me to use a GPS, or seat belt and turn signals either for that matter. That is just how we rolled back in NJ. Back in those days if I needed to get somewhere I would actually stop and ask for directions or go buy a Hagstrom's map and get to where I needed to go.

Well seeing as how the nearest gas station can be 20-30 miles apart (or more), and I often find myself traveling for 45-60 miles without seeing so much as a house much less a gas station, I have become somewhat dependent on my little Magellan GPS. Add to that the fact that when folks give directions out here they have a tendancy to use landmarks that only someone who has lived in the area for decades would know about. For example:

"So ya need to get to the Dollar Store in Flandreau do ya? Hufta, well here is what ya do, ya go down CR 10 for probably about 15 miles or so, and then make a left at that spot where the Jone's boy fell off his pony back in 32' and cracked his head open. Ain't never been quite right since has he now? Then ya go past probably about 10 farms, not counting the Olson place, that ain't rightly a proper farm now is it? Just past where the Huderite colony used to be you will see that place where the Heidenburg Silo burned down during the Great War and ya make a sharp left there. About 4 to 20 miles beyond that you will see an old injun in the road holding a torch selling tater peelers, make a left there and the Dollar Store is on the right. Its right across the street from where that new Ethanol Plant is gonna go up in 2012. You probably know the place right?"

I still haven't found the damn Dollar Store yet.

Now all that said, even my hi-tech gizmo can leave something to be desired. On Sunday I had to go to a business appointment in Westbrook. The GPS got me there from my home in very short order. No problems there. When I plugged in my home address to get back however, it gave me different directions. It was dark and icy so I figured okay maybe it knows something I don't. Seeing as road signs are about as rare as Duck Billed Platypus in this neck of the woods I listened intently to every command the lil girl on the gizmo barked out at me. When she had me turn onto one of the infamous "low maintenance" roads I figured it was just a short cut. It was a short cut all right, a short cut right into the middle of a pasture. The road literally ended in the middle of a snow covered feild. There as no "Dead End" sign, or "Road Ends" sign, nothing. Thankfully my Jeep has 4WD so I was able to get out of the feild and get back onto the "pavement".

Now tonight I found myself again in Westbrook and when I finished my appointment I plugged in my home address yet again, and this time got a completely different set of directions. Well not being one to be fooled twice, I said fuck it and went home the way I already knew how to get home.

The lil girlie on the gizmo took great offense to my veering from her recommended path and made her displeasure quite apparent. She continued to chirp "at the next intersection please make a U-turn", and was getting quite pissy about it. Honest to God, at one point I could have sworn she said "at the next intersecton please make a U-turn asshole!" Then of course she began droning "finding new route....finding alternate route". I swear it was almost like driving with my ex-mother-in-law in the back seat. Seems you just can't make some women happy, even when you do go to the trouble of asking for directions. Go figure huh?

Have fun ;)!

It is Clearly Time to Fish or Cut Bait Cuz Something Fishy is Going On

Brian Thorn — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 07:03:00 GMT

So I got home from work tonight, and found myself incredibly bored. After addressing my emails, I decided to peruse some of the other profiles at one of my new hang outs on the Internet, a social networking site called "Tagged". Now first off, "Tagged" is a lot more shall we say "liberal" in what it allows versus some of the other social networking sites I belong to like MySpace and Facebook. That said, you still see some of the same BS you are bound to find anyplace else on the Internet, and mores the pity. It is just the nature of the Internet I suppose.

As I was about to click off, and find something else to occupy my time with, I came across a profile headline that caught my eye, and like a rubbernecker passing the scene of a horrific train wreck, I couldn't help but look and see WTF was going on. The tagline read as follows:

"TO ALL THE ONLINE NASTY FUCKING FREAKS LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I DONT WANT TO HAVE SEX ON LINE IM LOOKING FOR GOOD MAN INSIDE AND OUT...IM NO FREE WHORE!!!!"

Obviously you can see what drew my attention. So I click on the profile to have a look see. The profile belongs to a 38 year old woman in Kansas City, MO., and it is soon clear why she felt the need to post such a tagline, but it doesn't stop there, it goes on to say this:

"READ MY PROFILE BE FOR YOU ASSUME IM A FREE ON LINE FUCK.I SHOW SO MANY PICS OF ME NOT CAUSE IM A NASTY FREAK..BUT SO TO LET PEOPLE KNOW EXACTLY,WHAT IM ABOUT INSIDE AND OUT.. CAUSE ALL YOU FUCKED UP LIERS THAT ARE LOOKING TO ONLY PLEASE YOUR SELF,AND DISRESPECT ME,I DONT HAVE ANYTHING FOR YOU BUT A BUNCH OF BAD WORDS FOR YOU SO PLEASE CLICK ON DOWN THE ROAD..THERE ARE SOME OF US THAT ARE LOOKING FOR SOMEONE AND NOT JUST A CUM...I WOULD JUST PUT ON MY FAVORITE PORN AND FUCK MY SELF"

A real treasure as you can imagine. Apparently the use of the caps lock key is also something she has yet to be formally educated in (personally I find that incredibly annoying). Here is the corker though, the woman in question appears to be far more interested in letting people know what she is "about" on the outside than on the inside because her entire profile is composed of like 20 some odd pics of herself mostly in either skimpy lingerie or just plain nakers. To be frank, considering the "muffin top" she has going on one might think she would be happy for whatever attention she does recieve, but sincerely speaking; what exactly did she expect? There wasn't a heckuva lot more to this profile other than her pics and further admonishments aimed at the "pervs", so how exactly is one supposed to get to know her on the "inside"? What do they have to work with in that regard? After reading the whole thing, I still have no bloody clue.

Now I am not for a moment suggesting that any man should treat any woman with disrespect of this nature in any circumstances, but we are talking the Internet here. On the Internet we don't have the kinds of social morays that in a public setting would keep such behavior in check. I am likewise not suggesting this woman deserves the disrespect she is recieving, but that said again what exactly did she expect?

The Internet due to the overwhelming anonymous nature of it all, is bound to attract all kinds of people who will do and say things they would never do in public, and if you add sex or sexual content to the mix, the level behavior can rapidly head into the gutter. At what point though does one begin to take personal responsibility for what happens to them when they put themselves all "out there" like that?

If you weren't aware of this already, let me clue you ladies into something; it has been clearly established that men by nature tend to be visual creatures, and they are far more assertive in their sexual desires than women are. Add visual sexual stimulus of this nature to your profiles and it is bound to stop an anonymous man's big head from working properly and put the smaller "head" into hyper-overdrive.

I mean let's face facts here folks, you show the average Man a sexy wanton willing Mermaid and he is more than likely gonna do his damnedest to try and figure out how to fuck a fish. It is just human nature for most men. Any man that says otherwise is either happily married, engaged, or a fucking liar. So again as a woman if you engage in this kind of behavior, what exactly do you think is going to be the end result? Not saying what happens is right, but you can't exactly appear shocked when it does happen can you? I have never quite understood the mentality of people who willing place themselves in "harms way" and then turn around and bitch about what happens when they do. It just boggles my mind.

It was my intent to post another one of my "Thornisms" addressing this very issue (or one really close to the heart of the problem) today, but I got sidetracked by this instead, and now I am too tired to be bothered with it tonight. I will definitely get to it tommorow or the next day I promise. I have addressed social networking and dating profiles in this blog in the past, and this woman's profile clearly broke every single rule I could think of. I mean lets be real here folks, it is obviously time to either "fish or cut bait" cuz things are getting pretty damn fishy when it comes to taking personal responsibility for our actions, and how we present ourselves to others, both in public and on the Internet. Nuff said really.

Have fun ;)!

Joe vs The Super WalMart

Brian Thorn — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 02:38:00 GMT

Anyone who has read this blog for a while already knows my feelings regarding certain Mega Corporations; in short I don't like them. My feelings toward Starsucks has been made abundantly clear, and now I suppose it's time to tangle with the Super WalMart.

I personally don't like WalMart as a company, or what they stand for. I have never read anything good about them, and based upon what I have read, they seem to enjoy exploiting their customers near as much as they enjoy exploiting their employees. Anything to increase the bottom line. It is a truly sad state of affairs.That said, it is hard to stand by ones principles when ones choices are so incredibly limited. I mean I live in a small town that doesn't even have a grocery store of its own. Hell short of two bars, a post office, a meat locker and a grain elevator we have bupkus here. As such I am forced to do my shopping at the dreaded Super WalMart. I simply have no other option.

So the other day I am at the "Mart" looking to stock up on some Carmelized Onion and Garlic dip (as much as I hate the "Mart" this is some really good dip), and check out what movies are available on DvD, as well as pick up some other sundry odds and ends. So I grab my cart and head off toward the hygene section to grab some Scope mouthwash, and as I am looking at the bottles, out of the corner of my eye I see this older woman (about the age of my mom) staring at me. When I look up again she is gone.

So with mouthwash, Q-tips, and Osteo Bi-flex in hand (getting old really sucks), I head off to the household area to check out the latest in Kitchen gadgets, cuz yours truly loves to cook and loves his kitchen gizmos. As I am checking out the latest technology in pizza cutters and ice cream scoops I see this same lady standing at the end of the aisle staring at me again. This time I decide to approach her and see whats what, but as soon as I start walking towards her she scurries off again. Now I am really curious about what the hell is going on, so I start looking for her, but for the life of me I can't find her again. Eventually I say "fuck it" and I head over to the DvD's.

I scored nicely at the DvD counter. I picked up "Burn After reading" a great Cohen Brothers flick, and "Death Race" with that guy from the Transporter series that I like. As I am heading to the compilation discs, there is that same damn woman, standing the next aisle over staring at me yet again. This time I take off after her, but she manages to lose me in the woman's lingerie section. Sorry but no self respecting man spends time in that part of the store unless he has a woman with him. One certainly doesn't chase a woman into that section, so I gave up again, and headed over to the deli section.

In the deli section I scored once again and got the last two tubs of my delicious Onion and Garlic dip. Sadly though once again I was denied my Roasted Chili Sun Chips that I love to dip with. I swear it always seems that as soon as I get hooked on some kind of food they inevitably take it off the market. I had the same thing happen with this English Licorice toffee that I became hopelessly addicted too. So having finished my shopping I made a quick scan for the crazy old lady, and not seeing her I headed to the check out stand.

Now I had considered using the self check out because I only had like 12 items but I never seem to have any luck with those damn things. There always seems to be one item that won't scan properly and I have to wait for "assistance" from someone who knows about as much about the system as I do, and in some cases less. So I decided to bag that idea and just go through one of the regular lanes. As I begin to push my cart I look up and guess who is standing right in front of me? You got it, its the crazy lady, except this time she approaches me.

"I'm so sorry I was acting so strange" she says as she walks up to me with her cart. Naturally I ask what the heck is going on, and she procedes to tell me the better part of her life story. Apparently this woman had a son in the military who died in action about 5 years ago. She explained that she couldn't help but stare at me because he was about my age and looked almost identical to me. She missed her son so much that she simply couldn't help herself.

Now being the sentimental git that I am, her story nearly broke my heart. Then she made a rather odd request. She asked me if I would tell her something that her son had never gotten the chance to say to her before he passed on. She asked me to say; "Mom it will be okay, really you don't have to worry about anything", and then she asked me to hug her. Now at this point my heart is literally breaking for this woman, so I did as she asked, I gave her a big hug, and said "Mom it will be okay, really you don't have to worry about anything". The smile that came across her face was priceless, and as she thanked me and turned to go get checked out I felt my heart in my throat. I was literally choked up and getting teary eyed.

As the cashier rang her up, I did what I normally do when I am waiting in a line, I checked out the gossip rags and seriously considered buying some jerky or a Snickers bar. As she went to leave she caught my attention again so she could wave good bye, and blew me a kiss saying "thank you son", to which I replied "no problem Mom", and off she went.

The cashier began to ring up my 12 items and then says to me, "Okay that will $237.53 please." All of a sudden I am like "WTF???", how the hell could these 12 items cost over 200 bucks? "Listen bub," I say to the cashier, "there is no way this stuff cost over 200 bucks, you must have made a mistake, try it again." To which he replies, "well no your stuff was only about $60.00 but your Mom said that you would be picking up her tab as well." All of a sudden my sense of charity turns to a sense of outrage. I tell the cashier to put my stuff off to the side and I will be right back. I bolt out of the store in search of "Mom".

After jogging around the parking lot I spot the scam artist as she is about to put the last of her bags into the trunk. I go running up to her and yell at her to "freeze". Seeing me charging down on her she goes for the drivers side door trying to make a fast get away, but fortunately for me I am too fast and I throw myself at the door ensuring it won't open anytime soon. "WTF do you think you are trying to pull lady?" I bellow at her. Realizing the jig is up she starts screaming for help, and starts trying to crawl under her car. Well I am not having any of that, no way in hell am I gonna let "Mom" or whoever the hell she is get away with ripping me off, so I grab her leg as she is about to get out of reach, and I start pulling her leg. I am pulling her leg, and pulling her leg.....

.....just like I am pulling yours right now.

Have fun ;)!

"I'm a Mom First"......My Ass!

Brian Thorn — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 21:33:00 GMT

Now I am fully aware going into this that I am likely to catch some flack and inevitably piss some people off (especially single Moms), but hey that has never stopped me before, so what the fuck why worry about it now? What I am about to lay down is done so out of my love and respect for women in general, and I have elected to broach this subject because recently in my forays into the dating world I have come across this comment from several single Moms and quite frankly I think it's absolute rubbish. That comment of course being "I'm a Mom First".

From where I am sitting this statement ranks right up there with "I have to wash my hair tonight" because in my mind it is nothing more than a put off, and not a true statement of fact. I say this because the nature of the idea behind this comment is inherently flawed. Why you might ask? Well the answer is rather quite simple. While I may not have a degree in biology, I have garnered enough knowledge about the human body over the years to know than no woman is born carrying a fetus and thus is not a Mom first, but rather is a Woman first, and a Mom second and then generally by choice.

This is not to suggest that a woman who also happens to be a Mother and a single Mother at that, should shirk her responsibilities as a Mother, quite the contrary. Motherhood be it as a single Mom or as part of a traditional family unit carries with it tremendous responsibility and thus tremendous rewards, but that said, one identity does not supersede the other, and in my humble opinion shouldn't. What I don't understand is how and why any woman would willingly give up who she is simply because she has elected to succumb to her Maternal tendencies? Who exactly do you suppose benefits from this?

The common answer to that question would more than likely be "well my children", but sorry I am not buying that, and I sincerely doubt your children are either. Over the years I have dated enough single Moms and encountered enough children of single Moms to know that their children's number one concern is not their own happiness but rather the happiness of their Mother. Children tend to be rather selfless when it comes to something like that, and I believe it is a very beautiful quality. I cannot count on all my fingers or toes how many times I have asked a child "what do you want for Christmas" and the answer was simply "for my Mom to be happy", and they sincerely mean it with every bit of their tender little hearts. When you give it further consideration is makes practical sense as well, because as the old saying goes; "if Momma isn't happy well then nobody is happy." This is especially true in the household of a single Mom.

As I have gotten older my dating pool has both changed and diminished somewhat, partly because of location, but also because of the nature of divorce in this day and age. As such I find myself dating single Moms more often now than ever before. While I have no issue with this whatsoever, I also have many aquaintances who are likewise single Moms and I hear their laments on a fairly regular basis. To you who elect to sit home regularly on a Saturday night and be miserable and feeling alone because you believe you have to be a "Mom First", I will say this; while you are indeed a Mother, you were first and foremost a Woman, and while a woman can elect to be alone, and a woman may not need a man to be complete, do not fool yourself for a second that a need for companionship something that all human beings desire in order to be happy, is something you must do without because of your children. People may respect a martyr but no one truly loves or remembers one.

Now short of a complete and utter asshat, no man is going to expect any single Mom to put him before her children (or even the family dog for that matter), that would be the height of foolishness, but likewise don't use your children as an excuse if you are sincerely looking to invite a man into your life. Afterall while a man may come to love your children near as much as he comes to love you over time, he is there in your life first and foremost to be with you and not your children. Expecting anything more is unrealistic at best, and disastrous at worst.

Even in a traditional family the love between a man and a woman is established first before the love for their children begins. While you will never stop loving your children, eventually they do grow up and have lives and loves of their own, the nest is emptied, and if you haven't nutured the love for your partner over those years, you are apt to find yourself alone and with good reason. Dating is no different. Even a single mom has to come to realize that eventually her children will grow up and move on as well, and if she has not made the commitment to nuturing a relationship with a partner, well then she too will find herself alone in the end, and personally I find that to be a rather sad state of affairs.

So in closing I simply suggest that while indeed you are a Mom, you need to also remember that you are a Woman first and foremost. Learn to accept the fact that it is indeed possible to revel in your femininity, and all the wonderful qualities that makes you the Woman you are, and such will not diminish who you are as a Mother. In doing so I firmly believe that you yourself will be happier, your children will be infinitely more happy, and the men in your life (should you choose to share your life with a man) will likewise be all the more loving and understanding for it.

Have fun ;)!

Being True To Who You Are In the New Year

Brian Thorn — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 22:42:00 GMT

So Christmas is past and we are moving ever quickly into the New Year. With that looming so close it is now a time when some will reflect on the last year and give serious consideration as to what they would like to do differently in the year to come. Some will undoubtedly make the infamous "New Years Resolution" which in most cases will be broken before the ball finishes dropping in Times Square, or Saint Patty's day at the latest. While the intent is most assuredly there for these folks, the path to Hell isn't paved with good intentions for no reason. As for me I simply can't be bothered with resolutions I know I won't keep, so instead I am electing to look inward and simply come to terms with what I can and cannot do.

What I know I can do is learn to accept myself for who and what I am, and learn to revel in who I am rather than attempt to be something I am uncomfortable with. After a little gentle prodding from an acquaintance and some soul searching I finally realized something recently I suppose I had known all along but refused to fess up too. Dats rite Biatches...I am "Da Pan"!

Now most might respond to the notion of a man admiting to his "Peter Pan Complex" with a flinch, a shudder, and then run in the opposite direction as quickly as their little feet would carry them. I know my Mother wasn't all that pleased when I laid this particular epiphany of mine on her. Certainly that is one's prerogative, and one is welcome to do as one wishes. I mean if the child (or in my case the boy) within you has aged prematurely, then I can certainly understand why you might feel as you do, but at the same time I likewise feel sorry for you. As for me, I have decided to set the lad free. I am gonna let him crow and fly and never ever grow up ever again! There had to be a reason I have found Indians, Mermaids, and Pirates so fascinating all my life, and I suppose I just never quite put it all together until now.

Now you can assume by my declaration of Pan-hood, that I am an irresponsible, undependable neerdowell, but that in and of itself would be your undoing, and thus likewise your loss. Seeing as I don't know the Zip code for Never Never Land it is clear I still need to provide a roof over my head and sustenance for my belly so that means I also have to make sure the bills get paid. As such it isn't a matter of being irresponsible, in fact far from it. I likewise have always been, and always will be there for those in need, regardless of the nature of my relationship with them, so undependable doesn't fit the bill here either. Trust me, I can provide references in this regard. Procrastination is not a lack of responsibility, it is simply a delay of such, and I freely accept that I am an offender in this regard. That said. while things may not get done according to the schedule of others, I don't miss deadlines, and the job is always done well.

Nope it has nothing to do with those things, it is simply a matter of never allowing the kid in me to grow up, regardless of how old I might get chronologically. Over the years I have never felt my age, and much to my older son's chagrin I have never really acted my age either. It might not make me the best Father figure in the world, but at least I ain't stodgey and boring, and that has to account for something. I have seen what happens to people who act their age and I don't like it. They get old, and they sure as hell look it, or older in some cases. No sir that is not for yours truly. I may be 46 years of age at present, and the "snow on the roof" certainly gives that much away to a degree, but in my heart of hearts I am still stuck somewhere between 15 and 28, and I have no intention of ever letting that side of me be hidden again.

So with that in mind, next year I intend to keep listening to the alternative music that my son thinks is so inappropriate for my age, I will not be buying any bermuda shorts, black socks, patent leather belts, and shoes, nor will I start planning my days around the early bird specials at the local diner. Nope instead I will be going out and trying all the things I have wanted to try but haven't gotten around too yet. I am gonna start snowboarding, gonna jump out of a perfectly good airplane, gonna finally learn to rollerblade, and next Summer I am definitely heading out to Sturgis (during bike week this time) and have that round of beers with the Hells Angels just so I can say I did it. Along the way I will get my Quad and start riding hard all season, I will keep kicking my son's asses in World of Warcraft, and I might even start singing in public again. Who knows I simply won't plan things out that far ahead and just let it happen. I will endeavor to play as hard as I work for a change and not let my work dictate my life. In short, I am actually gonna take my own advice and "Have fun ;)!" from here on out. I have always said that I give great advice and if I ever started heeding my own advice my life would be happier. Well, no time like the present right?

So as not to be misleading, this is no mid-life crisis I am experiencing. I am not going to go out and start dating 20 year old hotties, get a "Vette" penis extension , a spray tan, and start partying all day and night, whilst having non-commital sex inbetween just to feel young again. Sorry been there done that, or close enough anyways, and it's all bullshit. Not worth the headaches and heartaches that follow or get left behind in its wake. Nope I am just gonna be true to myself, accept the Pan inside me, and most importantly...

HAVE FUN :)!

The Evil Bastard Fairy Strikes Again!!!

Brian Thorn — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 04:41:00 GMT

"Sonvabitch" followed by a litany of expletives I won't bother to repeat here are the only words that I think can size up what happened tonight. The damn Evil Bastard Fairy has struck yet again! Now those of you who haven't been following the blog for all that long may know nothing about The Evil Bastard Fairy but you can find my original entry about this particular parasite here.

Tonight as I was uploading a cover for the entry called "The Dating Playbook" I had intended to write and post (I always do the covers first in case you were wondering), I happened to notice that Photobucket where I store most of my images had this new nifty picture organizing tool. Figuring organization wasn't such a bad thing, I clicked on it, created a few folders and started moving pictures and videos around. It wasn't until I returned to MySpace to check on a few comments that had been added to the blog copy over there, that I came to realize that by moving the pictures I had broken the link to all of them on both JwJBD and MySpace. Not only were all the covers to my blog entries no longer displayed, but every single MySpace or Tagged comment I had ever posted likewise had their links broken leaving only a little gray box that reads "This image has either been deleted or moved".

"SONVABITCH!!!!"

So now instead of writing and posting a new blog entry tonight I have spent the last 4 hours trying to correct all my blog entries. I have to open the entry, edit it, and delete the old photo link and reinsert the new one. Pisser of it all is, there are well over 165 entries to be corrected and they are posted on two different sites. Needless to say this is going to take a massive amount of time, and as such it may be a while before another new entry shows up while I correct the problem.

To all my friends on both MySpace and Tagged, I apologized for screwing up your comment boards, but there is no way I can go back and fix all those hundreds of comments I have left over the past year or so.

See as I said in the initial entry about this jacktard, the Evil Bastard Fairy just loves to come around and completely fuck up your day. So be wary and keep your eye out for anything that seems way to easy to make sense. As for me, I am brain fried so further corrections are going to have to wait for another day.

Have fun ;)!

What's With the Lamp?

Brian Thorn — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 04:30:00 GMT

With the NFL regular season beginning to wind down, I found myself a few weeks ago asking the question; "What's with the Lamp, hell what's with the bedspread, the sheets, the curtains, the fingernails and the "Go Vikings Go" flashing street light?"

Now those of you who religiously watch NFL Football every Sunday and Monday Night have seen this commercial hundreds of times. Those like me who don't watch much TV haven't seen it till just now.The reason I bring this up is I just don't get it? I simply cannot comprehend the fervor that some people invest in their professional sports teams. Until I moved to the Midwest I had never really truly been exposed to this level of fandom, I had only seen it at actual games and on TV. You can't seem to swing a dead cat out here without encountering it someplace.

There is a gentleman that I work with who we shall refer to here as "Peter Packer", who has festooned his entire office with Green Bay memorabilia. Everything is Packers Green and Gold. There are posters, calendars, footballs, and even helmets. Even his MySpace page is entirely Green Bay Packers themed. While I have never been to his home I can only imagine what his den looks like. Thing is he doesn't live in Wisconsin, he lives in Iowa. I realize that Iowa has no professional sports teams of their own, but then to hear them tell it, neither does Minnesota for that matter. That said, he is a man so I guess I can kinda get it in his case.

Women on the other hand I don't get at all. A few months ago I began dating this woman who we will call "Elizabeth Swan" who is an avid Oakland Raiders fan. She lives in South Dakota, and to my knowledge has never lived in California, much less Oakland. Why Oakland then I have no idea. To me the Raiders are just another one of those teams that are in the league to be beaten up on by other better teams, kinda the same as the Cleveland Browns, and the Kansas City Chiefs. I mean have any of these teams ever actually been to a Superbowl much less won one? To make matters worse, her roommate has his entire den decked out in Pittsburgh Steelers memorabilia that is incredibly similar to the commercial above, complete with missing Steelers lamp. Don't tell him but I understand he will be getting one for Christmas.

I give "Ms. Swan" credit though, she was very upfront about her "addiction" before we met, but it was not until we spent our first Sunday together that I realized to what extent. On Game Day, after a night of carousing at the local hockey game (complete with team jersey) she awoke in a state of panic having realized it was 11:30am and the Raiders game started at 12:00pm. Without so much as a shower she rushed home ran into her room (which was chock full of posters and team ball caps) changed into her Raiders jersey (she has both home and away jerseys), Raiders ball cap and Raider bomber jacket, then hopped into her car which has Raiders seat covers, and we were off to the local sports bar to watch her beloved Raiders get pummeled yet again, I can't remember who they played but the Steelers also lost that day. She got incredibly intoxicated after that, and we broke up not long after.

Now to date that had been the most avid fan of any sports team I had ever met, much less dated, that was until I next began dating a woman who we shall call "Brunhilda" who is without question the reigning Queen of all Vikings Fans. "Brunhilda" also lives in South Dakota and has confessed that her dream is to live in Minnesota close to the Vikings Longship. "Brunhilda" takes her fandom to a level I can only define as obsessive,and somewhat disturbing. In her case we are talking fingernail decals, earrings, necklaces, watches, jackets, caps, multiple jerseys, pajamas, nighties, panties, bedspreads, sheets, pillow cases, lamps, curtains, posters, stuffed animals, and even the aforementioned "Go Vikings Go" flashing street light, and all that is just in her bedroom. Can you possibly imagine how difficult it would be to make love to a woman in her own bed with all those distractions present, and on Vikings sheets with her in a Vikings nightie to boot? All her pets are named after Vikings players, and have Vikings related collars. Like "Peter Packer" her MySpace is also completely decorated in the Vikings Purple and Gold. The words "Packers", "Cowboys" and "Bears" are considered curse words in her presence, and I nearly watched her pick a fight with some poor guy who happened to be wearing a Bears Bomber Jacket when we were out at a bar one night.

On Game Day at her house I was instructed to don a Vikings jersey, while she on the other hand was garbed in a Vikings Jersey, ball cap, panties, socks and pajama bottoms, as well as the aforementioned jewelery and fingernail decals. My job during the game was to photograph her while she watched the game. She likes to post these pictures on her MySpace page after every game. It is kind of a tradition for her and really harmless when you think about it. Now the upside to this for me was the fact that if the Vikings were doing poorly she began to undress out of her Viking apparell. Lucky for me that day the Vikings were doing horrible, as they were playing on the road. Eventually they lost and I was treated to some pictures that shall forever remain private. I can only imagine what will transpire during Baseball season as she is a diehard Minnesota Twins fan too. Fortunately for me I won't be around to find out as I don't date her anymore, for reasons other than her obsession. That and I really am not much of a Baseball fan.

Now as I stated earlier, I just don't get this level of passion over anything much less professional sports. The only thing I can possibly think of in my own experience that I am that passionate about is maybe coffee and sex, and I certainly would have no issues have a cheering section for the latter. There seems to be somewhat of a double standard when it comes to Football fandom though. Whereas fans of things like Star Trek are considered geeks and social misfits, fans of Football who take it to a far greater extreme are for the most part considered normal. I mean don't get me wrong I love Football (Go GIANTS!), I suppose I just don't understand why people, much less women take it to the level they do, it is just a game after all. For me personally I would much rather go to a game in person, or better yet play the game, than to sit at home or in a bar dressed in my team colors watching it being played on TV. Normally I really can't be bothered with even that much on my one day off, with the possible exception of Superbowl Sunday itself, and even then I will watch the game more for the commercials than the game being played.

In the case of men I suppose I can appreciate the attraction to the sport because as boys most of us have played pick up games of touch or tackle football, or my personal favorite "schmeer the queer". Some boys eventually go on to play Peewee, Pop Warner, High School and College Football as well, so in a sense it does make sense. Women on the other hand for the most part, don't play Football. They may have been cheerleaders or in the marching bands for a local team, but they for the most part have never actually played the game, so where does this obession stem from?

I have seen a lot of crazy things men do for their teams at actual games, things like painting their half naked bodies in team colors, something which I believe no one would ever complain about if it were a woman doing it, we just never get that opportunity. That said though, the only thing I have ever been exposed to before recently in regards to women during Football season, is a woman being proposed to on the "jumbotron" at a game, or the "Football Widow", which in and of itself is a sad state of affairs. In fact, recently I heard in a local radio advertisement that in cities where there are professional sports teams the divorce rate is actually higher, so go figure? So where does this obsession come from, hell if I know. I am still trying to figure out "What's with the Lamp?"

Have fun ;)!

Black Coffee in Bed: All I Want For Christmas Is You

Brian Thorn — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 20:45:00 GMT

Well the holiday season is upon us and with it comes all the falderall that befits the occasion I suppose. Now I am the first to confess that Christmas has never been my favorite of the holidays (I am more of a Halloween guy), but by the same token that doesn't mean I am Ebeneezer Scrooge when it comes to all this yuletide bliss. While I firmly believe that the true meaning of the season gets lost in all the commercialization of it (I mean be honest Christmas season gets going before Thanksgiving even rolls around these days), that doesn't mean there isn't something to be said for the unadulterated joy and merriment that is evoked in the hearts of those around us.

Those of you who are friends or visitors to my MySpace page have already been inundated by this song, as it loads as soon as the page finishes. There have been various versions of this particular song over the decades but something about this particular version sparks a particular chord with me literally. Every time I hear it I cannot help but start snapping my fingers, clapping my hands and shaking my bootie regardless of what I am doing at the time; driving, working, drinking coffee, I simply can't help it. The fact that I first heard this version in one of my all time favorite movies is just icing on the cake. So enjoy the following clip from the film "Love Actually", and I am sure you will be as amazed by the power and grace of young Olivia Olson just as I was when I heard it for the first time. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kwanza, or whatever you celebrate.

Have fun ;)!

What's In a Name??

Brian Thorn — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 23:50:00 GMT

Okay for those of you who noticed, yes I am back writing again. The hiatus is more or less over now. I am not sure how much I will be blogging as the holidays approach but I do have a few stories on tap that I want to write about, so expect them some time in the near future along with all the other usual odds and ends.

In Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet there is a line spoken by Juliet that goes: "What's in a name? That which we call a Rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Not that I want to bash on the bard but I am inclined to disagree with his thinking in this particular circumstance, or in the least agree with him for different reasons. Take for instance our two "Rosies" up there? Now its not my intent to bash the pig or that animal that we make pork out of either. I am just saying that neither would smell all that sweet regardless of what you called them. So really whats in a name?

The reason I began to ponder this question today was because over the last month, and most recently last night I was asked if "Brian_Thorn" was in fact my real name. It so happens I had a date a few weeks back who literally assumed Thorn was my last name. For those of you who don't know already, Brian_Thorn is my "Nom de Plume", a pen name that I write under and use on the internet out of respect for my family's privacy. While yes my real first name is Brian, my last name is something entirely less exotic than "Thorn" and Eastern European in nature. So then why "Brian_Thorn" you might ask?

I had promised someone last night I would share this story and in fact I probably promised several people over the years that I would and I suppose I never got around to it before so hence why I am writing about it now. Here is whats in a name? My name at least.

Brian as I have said is my given name first name. It is Celtic in nature, and according to my Mother it means "Strength". Personally I think she just chose it because it was incredibly popular at the time of my birth. I know all through school I was inevitably surrounded by other Brians. I suppose it is better than what I was told I might have been named; which was Valarian. Can you just imagine the beatings I would have taken growing up with that name stuck to me?

I am told by my family that my last name had its spelling changed when my ancestors "came over on da boat", and that the original spelling meant "Eagle" in our familys native tongue. To be perfectly honest though I was never all that crazy about our last name in either form, and I am sure there are others of you out there who feel the same about yours. So when I took to writing I had always decided I was going to use something different. So then why "Thorn" you might ask?

Here is the origin of my use of "Thorn". Back in 1988 I made my first forays into what we now commonly refer to as the Internet. It wasn't nearly as fancy as it is today, but there were still things to do and things to see. After a bit I came across these unmoderated chat rooms, and I became fascinated with them. The ability to talk to people all around the world in real time was something you just couldn't do inexpensively in those days. I soon became a regular in a chat room that was predominantly occupied by women (naturally), simply because I have always loved to be a fly on the wall when women are talking.

Now being a nubikins to the Internet at the time I used my real full name (a very common practice by nubikins even today), and although I was advised against it, I had no other idea what else to use. The ladies of the room said they would think of something appropriate for me as they got to know me and when they did they would suggest it. Over time I befriended many of these women in a brotherly fashion and became somewhat protective of them and their privacy. As is still the case today, men would on occasion come into the chat room and sexually harass these ladies in a most ungentlemanly way. Some things never change I suppose.

Now being who I am I am not the type to stand idly by while such transgressions occur right in front of me so I began to chastise these cretins in the only way that I could given the circumstances; with words. I am the first to confess after a while I actually began to enjoy the thrashings and given my extensive vocabulary I was always looking for new and improved ways to verbally bash these neerdowells in a manner that was beyond their comprehension. As time progressed whenever someone was getting out of hand the ladies always turned to me, and I was always happy to oblige.

After one particularly nasty verbal exchange when the violator left with his tail between his legs, one of the women commented "Wow Brian I had no idea you could be such a prick when you wanted to" to which another woman exclaimed, "No hon he is just a Thorn protecting the pretty Roses", and hence I was given the moniker "Thorn".

Years passed and the nickname stuck with me. At some point later I was invited to experiment in an alternative lifestyle by one of the woman I had met back in those days. I did this for several years and "Thorn" was the name I used in those days as well. See there is a lot more to me than most know.

Over time I moved on to other things, and hobbies, and the Internet became something less than important to me and I more or less dropped out of it all together until about eight years ago. When I tried to reclaim my handle then it was taken everywhere I went, and I was forced to go by handles that didn't seem to fit me (Thorn39, b_thorn, etc). When I began to try out Internet Dating and then Blogging I was stuck with somewhat of an identity crisis as to what to call myself, and then it struck me; why not simply just Brian_Thorn? The rest is as they say; "History".

So what's in a name? Hell if I know. Personally I think we put a whole lot more importance on what to call someone or something than we need too. It seems like basic Human nature compels us to label things so we can better understand them. That said though, there is no universal label or name that will fit all people or all things in all situations so why put so much emphasis on a name or label for that matter? We are what we are, we will do what we do, and by any other name Life would still be as sweet as we make it, or sour if if we so choose. So what's in a name? To be honest I think the more relevant question is; "Who cares what's in a name?"

Have fun ;)!

Gone Fishin'

Brian Thorn — Mon, 27 Oct 2008 18:17:00 GMT

Well folks it has been a rough couple of weeks for yours truly, and despite all the great distractions I made the decision today to take a break from it all, so in short I will be "gone fishin'" from the blog for a while.

I spent this past weekend going to a Stampede hockey game (which was a lot of fun), and then drinking profusely at some of the local taverns in Sioux Falls, and the weekend ended watching my Giants beat the snot out of the Steelers (after a very rough start). That said though, I don't have much to write about, and well in short I need a break (from everything). With that in mind I am going to take some time away to re-examine my situations and decide what is going to be best for me in the long run. Maybe even start drafting that book that has been gnawing at me for years, who knows.

I will be back blogging here at some point, and I know this isn't the first time I have gone MIA on the blog, but I promise I will be back, and I am gonna keep writing. So if you still need a dose of "Joe" you can always visit my other blog (www.thornamidstroses.com), which I will add things too as I get around to them. Till then thank you for spending your time with me and reading this blog, and may God Bless you all.

Have fun ;)!

We Need Girlfriends: First Date Ever

Brian Thorn — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 04:38:00 GMT

Well it's Friday night again, and I just got home from work. Seeing as I have nothing going on tonight I figured it was as good a time as any to check in with the guys from "We Need Girlfriends" and see what was going on in their world. In this episode Tom makes a date, only trouble is that it's his first ever "first date". Now I know there are those of you out there going on your first date, and here's hoping yours goes better than it did for Tom. Till next time...

Have fun ;)!