Monthly Archives: May 2010

But there aren’t any nice guys!


(Every once in a while I come across something that I find myself reading, and re-reading without even realizing I am doing so for a lengthy period of time. This was posted on a message board and emailed to me by a friend who knew I would appreciate it. I honestly wish I knew who wrote this so I could give proper credit and shamelessly adulate whomever wrote this masterpiece.)

(Again, for the record, this is NOT me, and I wish it was. This is an anonymous post on a message board emailed to me.)




“What Happened to All the Nice Guys?”

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I
thought I’d take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven’t
figured it out. What happened to all the nice guys? The answer is simple: you

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy
pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you
when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but
didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and
told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little
puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay
attention to him.

They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush
on you.

Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you
vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your
position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t
your type.

I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too
poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the
things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time
pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the
boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was,
admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the
boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the
things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a
good, long-term relationship.

So now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several
months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What
happened to all the nice guys?”

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy.

You used him for emotional intimacty without reciprocating, in kind, with
physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion.

You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-t” friend.

Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to
realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors
open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you
mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when
you’re upset; or hold you when you cry.

He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more
like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making
some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to

Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate
rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete
absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and
wanted them.

Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if
that. So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.

2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.

3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy,
but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your
infantile taste in men.

In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has,
in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism
and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.  So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you
want, or own up to the fact that you’ve fucked yourself over. You’re getting
older, after all. It’s time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You
didn’t want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn’t fucking want you, now.



A Recovering Nice Guy.


(Yeah. Whoooaa is right)

(Live it, Love it...raise your glass to this fellas)


Optical Illusions.

I sat alone watching the storm roll in,
Dark clouds above my head,
Thinking of all the places I have been,
Dark thoughts within my head,

I speak to myself constantly,
In words that some might call poetry,
But I’ll never suffer, so I can write,
I suffer, so then I write,

I think of you, like me, sitting patiently,
Perhaps you never knew the cost,
When you made that careless toss,
Alone on that stone you feel only loss,

So often these words are put down for my love,
My true love, for there’s no one above,
It might come as a surprise,
True love is your eyes,

Unrequited, I’ll never see,
Those orbs that are scanning, seeking meaning,
While I lay out my verses, my way of self-cleaning,
I give all who read a part of me,

It is you that I love,
You who reads,
You who hurts, and you who bleeds,
All I can promise is that I say what I mean,

So for you I leave these little notes,
Love letters,
In fairest or foulest or temperate weather,

This part of me may be yours and you never knew,
This part of me,
Might be a part of you.

We’ll all be sorry together, at different times.

All alone, I look at this screen,  just me,
I record this electronic scream,
It’s so easy, you say,
Just breathe, and let it be,

But nothing you say is any help,
To my mental health,
I shake like a wet dog anyway,
The pain of every memory, stuck on replay,

I have to live it again, and again,
Remorse without end,
It’s never long before I wish for my days to be over,
Then I cease to be sober,

I’ll work up the courage this time,
In my selfish mind,
Find a way to escape this self hate,
Not a soul will ever know, until it’s too late,

My soul was crushed with a single no,
So now I only wish to go,
My only savior wishes to be my friend,
But I loved her just as much,

and it crushed me again.

I hope I can be strong,
And end this before long,
In my mind, I can see so many cry, why did you do this, why?
No one ever understood, before I took my final breath,

I was already gone.

Linda Blair.

I wish that I could let you go,
Remove the you that’s in my soul,
Find a priest to say a prayer,
So I could live, instead of care,

I wish so much that I could see,
No more you, just only me,
Leave behind the second thoughts,
And find the peace that I have sought,

Longing gone, no memories,
Of what used to be,

Cease to bleed, and never need,
You, right here,
Lying next to me,

I wish that I could feel nothing, when I speak to you,
Just black and white, no red or blue,
No anger, love, or sharp regret,

My friends.. they say I should be there by now,

But I know deep down,

I’m just not quite there yet.