Monthly Archives: February 2010

Highway to the Danger Zone.

Hey fellas, tell me, does this have a familiar ring?

“Awww, don’t worry, you’re a GREAT guy! The right one for you is out there, I know it!!”

If it does be afraid, be very, very afraid, because nothing fun ever happens…in the friend zone!

Before I get into why this is harmful, naive, and often cruel, let me make clear what friend-zoning is.

Friend-Zoned:

{When you meet an available female in which you have a romantic interest, and you get along well enough, you like the same movies, music, you could almost finish each others sentences…but you aint getting no pussy. Not now, and not ever. I’m talking to you geek teen romantic comedy movie watcher. Do you hear me? In real life there would have been police waiting for Ethan Embry at that train station, not Jennifer Love Boobit. When you make the move, or suggest it, you are either given the ‘what great friends we are’ speech, or in the case of a half-kidding suggestion, a light but firm rejection, spoken in a tone that seems to indicate you are in fact siblings, and that such a thing would be akin to incest, all gently padded with incredulous laughter}

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Ladies, take note here. The above is like stabbing a chopstick through the mans scrotum and roasting his jewels like rocky mountain oysters.

“Tobas, are you saying it’s NEVER okay to be friends with a girl??”

Noooo. I’m not. It’s all about context people.

You meet a girl, she’s cool, you guys get along, etc. girl has a boyfriend, so you KNOW it isn’t going THERE. you guys become pals, hey alright. (Editors note: if you aren’t a shady fuck you be sure to befriend the boyfriend, that will make everyone a lot more comfortable, and, keep the communication casual alright creep?) You dated a girl, used to hook up with a girl, etc. shit didn’t work out, but you guys are cool and mature people. hey, alright.

Now I wish to make a very clear point on one aspect of male-female friendships. Guys and girls being BEST friends is bullshit. Yes, you heard me. The guy is either a friend-zoned sucker, or he’s biding his time, or he’s already getting something. BEST friends do almost EVERYTHING together, they share every intimate secret with each other, there is a REASON these BEST friendships arise 90 percent of the time AFTER puberty, k? I have another word that might fit better for these ‘friendships’ which are typically described to prospective boyfriends as, ‘oh my god, nooo, no, no, it’s not like that at ALL!’, it’s called DATING.

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“But Tobas, what’s wrong with a guy just accepting that the girl does not see him as a prospective mate, and enjoying her company without that aspect?”

Why nothing dear reader. Provided the above falls within the acceptable context. You see, when a male is rejected as a suitable mate, it is more than simply a matter of ‘taste’. Because if a female is afterwards willing to partake in the social and material aspects of this individual, then it boils down to a primal rejection. I don’t want yo smelly DNA.

Right off the bat, this ‘friendship’ is starting out on the wrong foot. No man is alright with rejection when they are aiming for something, so you best believe that dude is going to throw the cock-block hard, whether you like it or not.

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“Oh that’s just Jimmy! He’s so over-protective…I had a boyfriend who realllllly broke my heart, so he ALWAYS get’s like this when I start dating someone!”

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Awwwww, Jimmy, what a sweetheart he is! You know what, heartlessnaive idiot girl that I was considering dating?

Fuck Jimmy. Okay?

Because you have allowed your great ‘pal’ to cross a line reserved for family, or a boyfriend. So if you don’t hang on the same family tree, stop trying to play me out and fuck Jimmy already, or sit him down and explain that he needs to step the fuck off.

See, but that’s the problem isn’t it? Acceptance of friend-zoning is what makes the Jimmy’s of the world. They cling desperately to the remnants of the initial rejection, hoping in vain that the girl will ‘change her mind’. Eventually they become so emasculated that they actually start to believe that they are ‘like a brother!’, and they cherish their unique position as snuggle buddy, ride provider, weepy three hour conversation listener, etc.

How sweet is that, huh ladies? All you have to do is flash him that smile, or change a t-shirt in front of him casually every once in a while. And he’ll be all cute about it, tee hee, I’m not looking…(Editors note: Tobas required a short trip to the toilet to spit out that little bit of vomit that crept up).

Am I making myself clear? Friend-zone involves intention, and that intention being thwarted.

Sooner or later even the best lapdog will begin to feel threatened, and that original intention will reveal itself. Whether that was the plan or not. He’s gonna go into the, ‘acting weird’ phase.

At this point any guy on the right track into her pants should know what’s up. However, the girl under no circumstances will reveal incriminating specifics about this ‘weirdness’. Should she put the friend in his place, sooner than later, that ‘friendship’ will begin to dissolve.

“I don’t wanna lose my friend! He’s been my BEST FRIEND for years!”

No honey. He hasn’t. He’s been fronting. Get over it.

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Playing that role is a dating disaster for a male. No female wants another girls toady. And the ones who aren’t aware of your pathetic jeeves act will find out soon enough. The phone calls, the text messages, being pulled away from a chick who MIGHT actually give you play for your ‘PAL’. But chances are, it wont go there. The stench of zoning is on you, and on there nice and thick. It reads in your body language, your tone, your demeanor. Your testosterone is low, and on the most basic and real level there is, that is paramount.

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Guys, if you want that ass, and you don’t get it, do us all a favor, yell, next! And move the fuck on. Permission to be a douche granted.

Ladies, if you don’t require his nutrients, don’t be a twat. Just let the guppy swim to a gentler shoal, k?

See, was that so hard?

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Live it, Love it (Yewww got what I neeeeed…)

~T

how sweet.

how cute. fingers intertwined, but I won’t give a sign.
oh, did you think I would throw a fit, and by showing that, admit,
that I still care even a little bit?
happy, happy, valentines day to you,

how nice that none can see me now, rocking slowly to a silent rhythm,
sporadically shedding a warm drop here or there,

I don’t expect a fucking thing from you.
how about that? didn’t see that one coming now, did you?
you don’t have to trust me at all,
or even have the slightest clue of when, what, and who,

just trust me when I say that I will be your own reflection,
so if I am nothing to you, then you will soon be nothing to me,
sometimes I make it look easy,
but another day of lovers is here.

I think I’ll have a few more beers..

Phineas.

I’ve been looking back at the frequency at which I write, and post.  From what I could tell, it seems that it correlates directly with my physical health.

I am not well, and I am discovering that I have not been for a while now.

I would like very much to say that things are going well overall, but they are not.

These things seem to perpetuate themselves, and I am fully aware that it all begins with a state of mind.  I have yet to discover a way to get a solid foothold on the state of mind necessary to improve matters.  It is all the more infuriating to know how you must think, wanting to think that way, and finding yourself incapable of doing so.

I wish I were a different kind of person.

Pugilist.

All the hits I’ve had to take,
I moved too slow, or dodged too late,
Crashing fists and feet that flew,
Swollen, colored flesh that grew,

Never did I imagine this,
A blow so sharp that did not miss,
Not from a limb extended high,
Nor aimed at me from focused eyes,

Ferocious strikes I gladly take,
My penny pounded into shape,
It laid me low, that awful sting,
When life reared back and took it’s swing.