advertised 'international cola' called 'Big Cola,'

"Big Cola: 'Cause when it comes to trashy cola, we've got it in the can. And... Well- 'Garbage Cola' probably would have been more aptly utilized a name for it as even those cola flavored, bottle shaped, gummy candies that hurt your teeth like tin foil on a caries filling taste better than that detritus of a beverage did. Just my opinion, obviously, but I'd avoid it if I were you. Point of fact, I think the name is almost as bad as the drink. Who knows, maybe worse since it leaves a funky taste in your conceptual mind.

On the subject of colas, have you ever had 'Big Red?' It’s not 'that' bad if its temperature is nearing absolute zero, but I find it's 'absolutely' undrinkable if it's been sitting out only a few minutes. I actually had an... Well, 'a' borderline Albino boss that said he 'loved' Big Red, but some how that made sense to me. As mean as that sounds and as glowering a generalization toward Borderline Albinos bosses as that may seem. But for him specifically it made sense, to be clear.

I don't know it just tastes like the candy flavor of bubble gum in a liquid form to me. And that just too candy-ee for me. It would also appear to be another consumer for the Red Dye 44, not that I'm averse to that, it's just an observation. 

(Cherry image:) Headlining Wall of Fruit member.

But back to what turned into a nightmare date. 

What's really ironic about her eating the cherry is she gulped the thing down after telling me she was hyper-allergic to literally ALL processed foods. Now if a jar of bright, synthetic, lobster red cherries floating in a brine of syrup isn't the 'definition' of 'preserved' or 'processed,' I obviously don't know what is... Unless'n it's just that she's a Masochist, which might explain just about everything because she also claimed there were barely any foods she could actually eat on account of the condition. But don't tell that to her Jambalaya, it would disagree whole 'grain' heartedly she couldn't eat the ass end out of it. So much ass end there was nary an organic kernel of rice left for her 'to-go' box.

What do you think, Bri, Second lie? 

Isn't there like... 'Everything' in the ass end of a Jambalaya? 

Anyway, my cherry, the truth, the lack of equality in the conversation and exchanged of ideas, I'm guessing those are the sort of tactics being taught to curry advantage over potential aggressors in hyper-Feminism 101 classes: 'To instigate-

your foothold of relevance by taking everything from men and those women that disagree with you;' in so many spoken or unspoken words.

(Hyper Feminism logo) “Ah Gimmie. gimmie, gimmie gimmie, gimmie gimmie gimm-aye-aye ”

(I haven't been in any 'Official' hyper-feminist classes, or feminist classes for that matter, so I don't know any of their verbatim mission statements.) 

I'm just left to think in a world of dickheads that can't comprehend 'No means ‘No,’' all men have to pay reparations to the Goddess of Venus for the past transgressions of the bad apples that ruin actual equality with women for the rest of us occasional dirt bags. 

Or maybe it's just that the unofficial mantra/mentality seemingly associated w/ what could also be called ‘über-feminism’: 'We take what we want, ‘cause we are women and we can… and we deserve it;' can’t ‘really’ be taken ‘all’ too seriously because it's just a little too similar to the ol' 'hand stuck in the candy jar because it’s just too greedy to only retrieve a few candies instead of a handful,' metaphor. The unfortunate reality in that example being that while the warm, unwashed hand is in there it also melts and yuckies up the other candy it touched but couldn't remove for the rest of the class.

Feminisms: The Power is in the Mob mentalities.

Don't get me wrong, I like a damn strong woman, buff ones too; built with muscle 'buff,' to be clear, but in my mind the weakness in all these feminisms-plural and where they ultimately impale themselves is in the fact its parishioners are all 'too' dedicated to their ideals. In my experience, any idea they feel might challenge their college established beliefs is also one they are required to jump upon and destroy, regardless its solidarity or relevance or presence of mind. 

As a student of ideas with a leaning towards objectivity over emotion, the sheer audacity of such mindsets to be so blatant in their resolve without the bearing or discipline to shut their mouth, open their mind and give other ideas their due, well, I have to admit, Brian, is my Achilles heel. I feel like I am always ready for my own preconceived notions to be disproven. Like the Zen Buddhist realizing enlightenment, maybe all it takes to change your relation to existence for the better is the simplest utterance of a single word, a notion or a touch. 

Anything could be the trigger to a world you'll never know if you aren't as open as you can be to it. 

So anything less than having the same open mindedness and willingness to admit no one ultimately 'knows' is garbage to me. Big Cola if you will.

Such dedication and desire to seemingly stay closed has an overwhelming ability to stir emotion from me and dash objectivity, souring me to even wanting to know more or care about what they claim to. I mean- really, who wants to give whole grain credence to someone who isn't at least willing to entertain the idea 'what they think they may know, beyond a reasonable doubt, in their heart of hearts, might not actually be true.'?

But, who am I kidding? I know feminism isn't defined by being obtuse. It's individuals that ruin others brilliant work. And maybe I'm a glutton for punishment... Because there is still something stunning and alluring about a woman uncompromising in her confidence and passion, even if it's a strength of what I see as ignorance and lack of experience in the world outside her own fishbowl.

(Womanism logo) Don't anger the black bear. [He] can be just as ferocious as the grizzly.

Maybe 'masochist' is a more aptly utilized word in my own case. Thank you, Male guilt. ('White' Male guilt in the case of Womanism; incase you didn't get the chance to look up the difference before this point.) 

But as with anything, I believe moderation is the key; especially considering overly strong women, to be clear. 

[E.G.: Women overly stacked with muscle

start to lean towards... (Sucking air through teeth) Looking eerily similar to men.]

[(Measurements of attraction Drawings) Stock quotes may not reflect direct correlations to Rippedometer, E.G. feeble women aren’t usually more attractive than those that are average if the first uptick and corresponding drop are associated with those speeds on the dial; albeit it is a case by case matter of consideration. Case and point, Karen Carpenter was always a looker.]

so when that moderation needle pegs out on the figurative gauge, I'm a bit more than ready to begin shorting the stock. Which is pretty much what inevitably happened on the date, except she was more overly stacked with arrogance in her ideas being the only universally applicable principles to live by than stacked with sculpted muscle.

Needless to say, Brian, I don't foresee ever getting my knives back. As cute as the offer of handing my knives to her may have been, I probably should have seen how the date went first before I did so. I feel like such a rube. Thirty one years old, I really thought I was past making these cringe worthy, mediocre mistakes you assume only occur on television situational comedies. Additionally, thanks to my giving them over so early, I no longer had anything at my disposal to open my wrists with should a horribly one sided conversation on political views and worldly oppressive issues arise. But what were the overall chances she'd compound and worsen a mildly depressive state I have absolutely no issue building and worsening on my own?

And here I thought a date was supposed to BRIGHTEN my day. I don't know if you knew or not, Brian,

but I learned the world is apparently a really shitty place, for 'everyone.' And we as men and America are almost holistically responsible. Albeit we're also part of that everyone, even though we're being singled out, actually, I don't know, truth be told, it's not my theory. To my mind the categorizing seems arbitrary and gets a little fuzzy when I try to rationalize it. That's what I learned. Oh yeah! Wanna know what I also learned?

When men aren't listening they are apparently, thinking about sex. Maybe this wasn't news to you, but it was to me. Or so I learned when I asked her to elaborate on something she had begun talking about that made no sense to me. To which, she insisted, 'had I been listening to what she was saying' she wouldn't have to elaborate. Confused, I insisted I had been listening, to which she then "repeated" what she insisted she had previously talked about. After she finished 'rehashing' something I assure you she hadn't previously discussed, political positioning, complete with hand gestures and imaginary graphs she also insisted she had made, of which I wouldn't have forgotten even if I hadn't been listening, she told me it was 'okay' if I had ignored her. To which she buttoned the issue with: "[I] must have been thinking about sex (presumably with her) instead." 

Pretty hard to argue her logic, I suppose, Brian,

You know, her upturned, apple box positions and figurative castration by philibuster being the exact sort of subject matter to elicit the sheerest of case hardened steel erections from man history has ever known. Then again who knows, maybe there is some Samurai Logic taught in those feminist courses I’m not privy to, like:

'All guys think about is sex, but not all sex is thought about by guys.' 

I mean the size of the ovaries on this 'no-longer, potential new' new gal pal with such an assumption- I don't know if you've ever wanted to walk out on a date before, or entertained there thought of actually doing so, being the professional you are, but I was cringing through that latter quarter of being in her presence, both figuratively and literally. Which was a real insult to injury, because I got along with her gangbusters otherwise; whatever gangbusters means. I mean- you pretty much 'have' to be getting along gangbusters if you are going to give a girl your knives to be sharpened... and by a (potential) Samurai as it would turn out. Doesn't that just scream the sort of meet cute that defines everlasting marriage narratives? I can even see Reese Witherspoon playing the woman with the samurai friend; not that she wouldn't be capable of capturing the essence of the male role, to be clear. Even though our stature is quite different, she's quite the accomplished actress.

Anyway, never again. (Dating I mean.) I'm not averse

to letting a woman sharpen knives for me. I'm not sexist. I'm just done with dating, done with the let down, with not being enough for a woman just being myself. Granted I'm a peculiar individual and it would probably take one in... we'll- at least 2765 ‘individuals’ to appreciate what I bring to the table,

(Besides knives)

but... yeah, that's time better spent on like- I don't know... Learning to knit comes to mind, from recent memory, or like- volunteering to chase plastic bags and snickers wrappers around a beach estuary… Who else is going to prevent the floating, plastic garbage patch she informed me about from growing to an 'eleven' mile radius. Not her, that's who. Sure, it's great to know and inform everyone and anyone about female genital mutilation, but just knowing and educating others about it doesn't mean you're gonna go out and actually get that particular Snickers wrapper picked up, if you know what I mean. Seemed more like she was trying to delegate if you ask me.

(Or place blame.)

And here she wasn't even a business major. 

Social Sciences... Obviously. 

Communications would have been hilarious. She had that nailed.

Or maybe something more obscure... Like Metallurgy. Lord knows those metal nerds are pretty 'steely' in their proclivity.

Geez look at that, she even had the power to commandeer my inquiry into your new 'new-not new' girlfriend. Well, let me know how that is going, brother. I hope most of her time with you is like what my recent first three quarters was: 

Gangbusters, Brian


Brian (w)'s Second Letter to Brian (e) (2)
Series Info | Table of Contents

advertised 'international cola' called 'Big Cola,'

"Big Cola: 'Cause when it comes to trashy cola, we've got it in the can. And... Well- 'Garbage Cola' probably would have been more aptly utilized a name for it as even those cola flavored, bottle shaped, gummy candies that hurt your teeth like tin foil on a caries filling taste better than that detritus of a beverage did. Just my opinion, obviously, but I'd avoid it if I were you. Point of fact, I think the name is almost as bad as the drink. Who knows, maybe worse since it leaves a funky taste in your conceptual mind.

On the subject of colas, have you ever had 'Big Red?' It’s not...

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