States of Mind

According to 17 – 25 year olds… a random sampling of vital instructions, for anyone out there with a penis, adam’s apple and testosterone flowing thru their veins!

For some reason google image search for man reveals this Saved by the Bell relic first.

In response to the question “What does it mean to be a real man?”, I received the following from the guys in the class:

“To be a man first of all you need a penis, an adam’s apple and testosterone.”

See, I told you so!

Thanks to the Viagra website for this sampling of men who cannot sustain their erections.

“To be a man is to be able to take all the risks for your family. A real man is not emotional and does not cry.”

And here you thought gender stereotyping was dead! Read on…!

“Men are really simple because they usually don’t care about small things. Men care about what is important in life and not about small details like women do.”

Women are genetically wired to be concerned foremost with what is unimportant.

“A man is usually muscular and is able to protect the ladies”

Here he is, a real man protecting ALL his ladies. Thanks to www.faisalkutty.com

“Women are more complicated than men and tend to avoid simplicity.”

“To be a man means, in our society, that you have to be your own master, make your own decisions, try to control all the women you’re in a relationship with and be big and strong.”

Damn, controlling all those women must be a real strain…

“Being a man means that you have to be rugged, grow a beard, and enjoy sports”

“We may try to hide it, but men are all secretly emotional rollercoasters”

And from the women in the class:

“Men are wild dogs. From the day they hit puberty and discover their erect penis, they prey on women of all ages and think about coitus all day long and every single day for the rest of their lives. They hump like dogs. They moan like whales until we, women, bring them freshly cooked food. They follow pretty women around like wiggly tailed puppies following their new master. Their penis always runs ahead of them first.”

wiggly tailed indeed...

And finally, one young woman’s nightmare:

“You will never guess what happened to me: I woke up with an erect manhood this morning. No kidding. It was sticking out of my own body. And where are my small asian breasts? What’s up with these hairy caveman legs? Hell, NO. I want to be able to wear dresses and put on make up just like I do every day to piss off my boyfriend and make him jealous and make myself happy. I was happy to sit down and pee. I don’t want to play aim and score at the toilet bowl by moving a freaking stick in my hand! This must be a nightmare… this has to be a nightmare…”

I’m going to see Ben Harper on September 27!! Keeping true to my old school hippie-ness, which apparently translates, as far as I can tell, into someone who cares about what they eat, cares about the environment, and cares about the dumbing-down of society that is being tactically executed via popular mass media in combination with a shoddy educational system…

so if that’s the definition then yes, damnit, i am a hippie

enjoy a bit of ben for yourself:

Compromise is an agreement whereby both parties get what neither of them wanted.

From: http://osuemed.wordpress.com/2011/04/27/death-telling/

Today’s random thought…

Since we all know we’re going to die, why don’t we talk about it more often?

From: http://dark.pozadia.org

Again, from 17 year old minds:

“With the media’s influence, I really hope that I don’t become a psychopath…”

From: http://www.best-horror-movies.com/psycho.html

“Music made properly has no boundaries.”

From: http://i-love-music-images.pics-grabber.appspot.com/

From: http://ourtakeonfreedom.wordpress.com/2011/08/05/sharing-love/

Some thoughts on love from 17 year old minds:

“What does Jersey Shore tell us about beauty? The girls should have boobs bigger than their heads.”

“Love is when a guy knows how to use words, not a guy who is good in bed.”

“Love is what you feel when you know someone cares for you and they’d do anything for you. You should love the way you feel in their arms.”

From: http://cut3chikot.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-is-cinta.html

“Love is supposed to be a feeling, not a quantifiable, measurable thing written in a magazine.”

“That player they used to call Alex is now in a very deep game of love…”

“According to popular movies, only pretty people find love and all the gorgeous people also happen to have amazing personalities.”

From: http://chintyaveronika.blogspot.com/2011/01/love-sign.html

“Even though the chick flicks tell us ridiculous things about love, I will keep hoping and waiting for my own fairytale story.”

“Love can be found anywhere, it can sprout up from nothing and consequently flourish on… well… nothing.”

“Even though this is a love story, he didn’t ride up on a beautiful white horse. He rode down Sources Boulevard on a blue bike.”

From: http://www.layoutsparks.com/1/212585/peace-love-hand-sweet.html

“Love is when you find the right person who understands why you do things the way you do.”

“From what I’ve heard, love is a feeling you can’t resist and can make you sick to your stomach.”

“The world is falling out of love.”

From: www.manipalblog.com

“When you step into the real world, you realize there is no magic, no peace, and no background music.”

“Love? At our age? Ha ha.”

“Love is beautiful. Everyone should experience it.”

From: http://funyug.com/tag/everything-has-its-beauty/

“It is my opinion that love exists but achieving it is beyond our understanding.”

“Love: you can’t go running after it because it’s running after you.”

From: www.chowminghan.com

Today’s random thought comes from something I overheard.

While walking through the halls of the college (where I now magically work), I pass by two girls. With a look of disdain, approaching pure disgust, one says to the other: “Why are guys such noobs?”

I’m about 14 years older than these girls, and my (internal) reaction was: “YEAH. Why ARE guys such noobs?!”

Good question. Bonus marks.

The Breakfast Club... a classic.

For my elderly, non-hip readers, a definition from urban dictionary:

Contrary to the belief of many, a noob/n00b and a newbie/newb are not the same thing. Newbs are those who are new to some task and are very beginner at it, possibly a little overconfident about it, but they are willing to learn and fix their errors to move out of that stage. n00bs, on the other hand, know little and have no will to learn any more. They expect people to do the work for them and then expect to get praised about it, and make up a unique species of their own.

Napoleon Dynamite... the upside of being a total noob

For more n00b distinctions, click here.

I’m officially swamped with stuff to do… and that doesn’t even include all the stuff I’m procrastinating on. This is brand new stuff. Adding to my accumulation of stuff. Lots of mental stuff.

In efforts to extradite some mental space, and since I am low on time lately, I have decided to regurgitate my random thoughts here… in no particular order, and with no particular thematic continuity implicit or explicit…
yeeeeeeah.

In any case… for the next little while you will be treated to random thoughts and random art or photos or comics for your contemplation and / or shaking-of-head-in-disbelief / horror / bewilderment.

Today’s thought:

I am glad I’m not tall enough to see the dust on top of the refrigerator.

I got a new job recently, so this poem is particularly poignant.

Writing A Resume
by Wislawa Szymborska (a Polish poet, still alive, kicking and breathing in Warsaw, Poland)

What needs to be done?
Fill out the application
and close the resume

Regardless of the length of life,
a resume is best kept short.

Concise, well-chosen facts are de rigueur.
Landscapes are replaced by addresses,
shaky memories give way to unshakable dates.

Of all your loves, mention only the marriage;
of all your children, only those who were born.

Who knows you matters more than whom you know.
Trips only if taken abroad.
Memberships in what but without why.
Honors, but not how they were earned.

Write as if you’d never talked to yourself
and always kept yourself at arm’s length.

Pass over in silence your dogs, cats, birds,
dusty keepsakes, friends, and dreams.

Price, not worth,
and title, not what’s inside.
His shoe size, not where he’s off to,
that one you pass off as yourself.
In addition, a photograph with one ear showing.
What matters is its shape, not what it hears.
What is there to hear, anyway?
The clatter of paper shredders.

Beautiful song from a very soulful woman: