A Real Man... A Great Man... and the Man Cave!

The countdown begins at 11.

Igloo and the Big Man stopped by last night for a few hours, we got a good fire going and chilled out in the yard. There's nothing more manly than building a good fire with the guys, knocking down a few and shooting the shit, is there?

I'm half way through the classic relationship book Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus by Dr. John Gray and there are a few points that he really nails that men and women everywhere should always keep in mind. Hey, there's usually a reason something becomes a classic, right? I touched on it in my piece titled "Where Everybody Knows Your Name...." , and I think everyone needs their special place, but for men it's an absolute necessity to have that place we can retreat to and be left alone, away from our problems, and just be guys. In a sense, it allows us to reset ourselves, recharge, and get back into the fight.

You know what I'm talking about. The Man Cave.

Us guys are really simple creatures, and aside from the NEED to get laid (yes, it IS a need for guys, biological function, it's how we're built) there are three essentials that no guy anywhere can ever do without if he's going to feel like a real man and have any hope for happiness. The Man Cave is an integral part in that, and I'll explain why.

Now there's a Man Cave I'd like to get into!

The first Manly essential is the need to feel like a Man, the need to feel great. We all know how that shows itself, its how we fight and argue and compete over everything. Its why we beat our chests like Gorilla's and show off, because we want to show the world I AM A MAN.... and I am GREAT!

And what's the absolute best way to show the rest of the world that you're are, in fact, a Great Real Man?

There she is... or someone like her. And if we can't beat our chests a little, find some way to stand out and show the rest of the guys, "screw you pal, I'm a man too damn it!" well, we feel like less than a man. And less than a man is no man at all. And if you're not a man, then what do you have? Nothing, that's what.

MacGyver is the Man, isn't he? I once saw him build a bomb out of a paper clip, a metal pail and a block of ice. This guy can figure out how to solve anything. And that's what makes him the man, because the second essential that all men have is the need to fix everything. There's a problem? What problem? I got this!

There are always issues, challenges to face, things that have to be done. Men pride themselves on always getting it done, being that go to guy. We want the final shot. We want to be able to take care of everything. Don't worry, I've got this, and have everyone trust us that we do have it under control. As guys, when we're not thinking about how to get laid, we're trying to solve all the problems of everyone we know. Because Great Real Men get it done... and I'm going to show you how! Take away a man's ability to fix things and he might as well be a....

WHOA! You wanted to build a fire.... NOW THAT'S A FIRE! Now I've got to go figure out how to beat my....

But the third thing that all guys have is an essential that flies under the radar and most women never seem to understand, despite the fact that this one is something they should know all too well themselves.

All men everywhere need to feel like they're Real Men, Great Men, right now just by being themselves. Not when we have the right job, not when we have the right house, the big bank account, or we're groomed enough to be showed off to the friends like some damned show pony. We want all of those things for ourselves anyway, but only because they let us get the best toys. And all guys love having new toys....

But let's face it, where in the outside world can a guy go without the constant pressure of "you have to BE more", "you have to HAVE more", "you have to BE better"..... the entire reason we all beat our chests so much is because since the beginning of time ladies like the ones in the pictures up above have been telling us that we have to do all of these things to be "GOOD ENOUGH" to give us the time of day.... but that's the furthest thing from what any guy actually wants....

The guys.... our boys... are the ones that couldn't give a damn about any of that. Amongst each other, we're all MEN, and we're all great, especially when we're farting, belching, and all the other nasty things we do that are still just as funny now as they were at 10 years old. We don't have to be more. We don't have to change for each other, be better. In fact, if someone tries to change... CHANGE? What are you fuckin crazy?! What do you want to go and do that for?

You show me a Man that allows others in kind to gather, a Man who makes it known that you're a Real Man, a Great Man picking your nose and scratching your balls just by drinking that beer and oogling those hooters no matter where you have the stains on your shirt or what condition the car you rode in on.... just like God intended.... And I'll show you a leader of men, a Man other MEN will follow anywhere....

The Man Cave is essential for that. It's a place where MEN can come together and retreat from the world that forces us to beat our chests. Instead, we're free to drink those beers, and scratch our balls, and fart, and be perfect just being who we are, far away from anyone that wants to change us. It's a place where we're free to play with our toys, and figure out all the answers to all of the pressing problems of the world, tackle the important issues like how to fire rockets from remote control helicopters, or...

How to get her to serve us drinks naked while we play cards....

You show me a Man without a Man Cave and I'll show you one who's depressed. And that's a fact. And for you ladies, a word of advice.... if you don't let your Man spend time in his Man Cave... he'll only retreat to the Man Cave in his mind. And then you'll never get him out.

Just like the need to always feel like Real Men, Great Men never goes away, neither does our need for our Man Cave. Its our place in the world where we're always Men! No matter what the circumstances.

In fact, since it was a book on relationships that brought all this up I'll let you ladies in a little secret, and the guys can tell me if this is wrong.... But no man is every ready for marriage until he's tired of beating his chest. And the one and only thing that tells us guys that YOU are the one... is when you let us know we don't have to... because you make us feel like Real Men.... Great Men.... just the way we are.

Of course, it always helps if you let us turn the house into the Man Cave and serve us drinks naked....

Thanks babe... I think I'll stay in tonight.... and maybe try some of that honey....

Later People

Join my fanpage John LaSota - Writer

Or our creative team's page The Mad Doser Presents


And if you need a healthy helping hand from a Personal Performance Consultant
Coach LaSota

The Choking Boston Red Sox, the Nut Riding Sports Media and how to fix the Mets!

I'm feeling pretty incredible this morning, euphoric even, a lot like many of us do on opening day of baseball season, the day that officially rings in the end of the long winter for many of us. These feelings don't come around often, and could be gone in the next twenty minutes, so I'm going to enjoy this as much as I possibly can....

And it honestly has nothing to do with the Boston Red Sox colossal choke job. I try not to talk about sports here or that's all I would do, but for today I have to make an exception.....

It doesn't look like this is going to happen this year now, does it? The baseball season seemed to go really quickly this year, but not quickly enough for the SAWX, a team with a 160 million dollar payroll that couldn't even make it into the playoffs after holding a 9 game lead late in the year.

And while the players hang their heads in shame, and rightfully so, its not even my hatred for this team that has me giddy at the prospect of their finding themselves in the same spot I will be for the second season, drunk and beer bloated in front of my TV. Of course, I'm a HUGE Yankee fan, but that just wouldn't be the same without the Red Sox, after all, Batman needs the Joker to keep those juices flowing, and over the years of the rivalry I've grown to at least respect their fans.

 You tell me what's NOT to be respected here. What makes this such a beautiful thing to me is how Sports Media always finds their darlings and slobbers all over their nuts, only to be wrong almost every time. A lot was made this season of the Yankees ridiculous payroll, age, and lack of starting pitching, just like it always is, but any time you turned on ESPN this summer all the talk was about how the Red Sox had already won the World Series, so we might as well give it to them now.

Sometimes it's almost as if these media outlets are funded by these darling teams themselves and full of on air personalities that are no different than every other fan that thinks they know the game because they watch it all the time, when in reality, they don't know shit about shit. The Philadelphia Eagles are a prime example of this if you can remember all the Donovan McNabb CockRiding... look at him now.

Tell me rat faced Dustin Pedroia doesn't look exactly like the guy who shits himself in Trainspotting. No wonder they couldn't get it done. But I'm sure that you can come up with plenty of other examples, like any of ESPNs college football shows blowing the SEC, which only makes me want them to lose every game. Back when USC was cheating for championships the Pac 10 could do no wrong.

Why is is that you never hear about Boston's 160 Million Dollar payroll, but it's always what a genius Theo Epstein is?

Speaking of ESPN Darlings with massive payrolls that can't get it done, Jose Reyes once again proved what a gutless puke he is taking himself out of the last game of the year for personal glory. The Mets spent 120 Million on a team that finished 8 games below .500 and 25 games out, but you'll never hear about it because the powers that be over at the most powerful Sports outlet there is, the ones not sucking up Sox man juice, are Met fans. It pours out in all of their broadcasts.

That's a franchise in real trouble. Think about how great this is though, either the Mets give 20 million a year to an aging speed player with leg problems so bad he can't stay on the field and has proven to be gutless in the clutch time and again, or they let their best player go for nothing and completely alienate what's left of the fan base stopping them from buying tickets from a broke ass franchise.... they're fucked either way.

BUT I HAVE A SOLUTION FOR THEM....

Let Jose Reyes go and deal David Wright... I've got replacements for them right here...

I understand that you can't have a team in New York without some star power though, and I've taken that under consideration. So leading off, playing Centerfield....

Julia Styles... why not. She can't be any worse of a ballplayer than she is an a actress, can she? Put me in coach, look at me, I can be Centerfield....

But the Mets need a solid # 1-2 starting pitching type. Got it covered... who better than New York native....



Alyssa Milano. That's right, how can she NOT know how to pitch, she's been run through by every pitcher in the league, hasn't she? Don't worry Alyssa, you've been my # 1 starter since I was 8 years old and nothing will ever change that. Not even scurrying out of the Met locker room pulling your uniform on...

But there are so many more holes to fill on this squad, and I aim to fill them all.... at second base....

I have no idea who she is, other than being Latin, but isn't that the formula the Mets employ for filling out their roster? Besides, how can you argue against calling her up and giving her a shot in the bigs, just look at this form....

That's right baby, get down low and keep those balls in front of you. Play them off your chest if you have to. You've got plenty of time to get him.

In today's game you just can't win without some cheap players filling out the roster, can you? The Mets need to bring in a catcher.

Here we go, getting into her crouching position. Now this is a player I can really get behind. She can catch what I'm hurling in any day of the week. That's my sleeper pick for rookie of the year right there. But we're not finished, are we? Who do we bring out of the pen when we need someone to quiet those bats?

Talk about closing it out down the stretch. Well... maybe not, but these gals can't be much worse than the product on the field right now, and if you're going to SUCK, do it right! Give the fans something to cheer about, a reason to come out to the ballpark next season. I can't stand the Mets, but with this roster I'd have to seriously consider season tickets.

No matter who you root for though, there's one thing I'm sure we all can agree about....

Thank God it's Football season.... And....

GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!

Later People!

Join my fanpage John LaSota - Writer

Or our creative team's page The Mad Doser Presents

And if you need a healthy helping hand from a Personal Performance Consultant
Coach LaSota

Fancy Going Halves on a Bastard?

No, not this Fat Bastard. I'm talking about the best pick up line I've ever heard. I think I'm going to use that from now on every time I meet someone new. I got it from "The Little Book of Flirting" by Stewart Ferris, which probably isn't the most informative work in the world if you wanted to actually use it out in the field, but MAN did I laugh my ass off reading it.

Truth is, it doesn't really matter what you say when you approach someone as long as you have the balls to say anything at all, and a smile on your face when you do it. That's the problem that most people have in general, having the balls to do it, and of course the people that do are usually the type of ass that are so full of themselves that it'll never hit them what a horrible human being they actually are....

But then we wonder why its people like this that take over the world. What a Horror! Of course, if you're going to use a line like "Fancy going halves on a bastard?" it helps to have props.

Bust one of these bad boys out and even the coldest fish alive has no choice but to laugh. This is Pulitzer prize winning stuff here people. And this is either a tremendous job with photoshop or the greatest candy bar on earth. Cadbury... they make the cream egg... and help deliver the cream for her eggs....

But you always have to be careful of what you wish for....

Because you just might get it. If that's not a Fancy Bastard I don't know what is. Of course, he could just be English. No one delivers the word "BASTARD!" quite like the Brits, makes me laugh my ass off... gets me every time.

That's right! Happy Birthday... eh, whatever, it seems that I've boxed myself into a corner here, forgot where I was going with this. But if you don't like it....

You tell 'em Johnny Cash! That right there is a man after my own heart. Misunderstood, constantly fighting his own demons, and seemed to get caught out there all the time giving off a certain public image that did nothing to show what a huge heart he had and how much he cared or helped his fellow man. I have a picture of a letter from him to John Wayne that proves it.

Speaking of a certain public image.... people need to leave Lindsay Lohan alone. Yeah, she's a drunk and probably a skank that's constantly going out there, making a mess of herself, and getting caught in a position that makes her look like a total slut.... but how is that any different than any other hot young girl out there? Go look at your facebook friends and what they put up for people to see on purpose and you tell me. Just because a girl is famous doesn't mean she can't do the same nasty shit that makes her look like a pig any less than the hot young girls you know.

Would you rather it was this guy that was flashing the half naked drunken photos? Geez, look at this guy. Look at his neck? Is that a gullet or a tumor? How do you even get yourself one of those? Somehow it reminds me of eating at Sizzler with my brother and sister one afternoon....

They sit us down, and at the table behind us was a mentally handicapped woman who looked exactly like Beaker from the Muppets. And when she talked, her mouth even moved the same way. If you had told me that someone had their fist up her ass working her like a puppet, I would have believed it. But as much as I get a bad rep for these things, like Johnny Cash, I can't be the ass that's sitting there laughing at the handicapped, I really can't do it. It's just not right. If I'm going to laugh at retards it's going to be the cast of Jersey Shore... and the people who love them. But I couldn't eat that way either, so I had to change my seat so that I wasn't facing her. Poor woman. Poor Beaker.

Only because I had to change the subject.... actually, if you're going to pull a line like the one this whole spot has been based on, it should be used on the type of woman that's taking pictures prancing around in her underwear. Why is it when they do it its sexy, or art, but when I take pictures prancing around in MY underwear.... well.... they call it something else...

That is one damn strong chair.

Beaker?

Well... that's all I've got for today. But hit me up with some of the best pick up lines you've ever heard. I'm going to go out there and use them, with my own spin of course, and see if they work. Maybe I'll make it a video. I'm also going to look into getting some of those Cadbury Bastard Bars... wow, it just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

Later People!

Join my fanpage John LaSota - Writer

Or our creative team's page The Mad Doser Presents

 

And if you need a healthy helping hand from a Personal Performance Consultant
Coach LaSota

IT DOESN'T MATTER!!!

A lot happened since last Thursday night, a lot of things that I can and probably should talk about, but as I took the train ride home from the city last night I was struck by an overwhelming feeling that's stuck with me now in the morning that.... IT DOESN'T MATTER.... what I talk about.

I think we all go through days like that once in a while, when it all just seems so mundane and we get caught up in our routines. I'll go to work doing something I don't really want to do, come home and eat some dinner, maybe watch a few shows I don't really care about, get into a couple of conversations about things I don't really want to hear and go to bed to do it all over again in the morning.

That's right buddy, What a Horror! This guy knows exactly what I'm talking about. That was my favorite part of living with my girlfriend and I think the reason behind why most guys get married, because none of it really matters, so you might as well have someone to eat that dinner and watch those shows with. And if it doesn't matter anyway, why go through all the pain in the ass details and hassels of finding someone new to do that crap with every night?

While we're on the subject, someone got the perfect image of my dream girl... look at that slender waist flowing into her perfectly round bottom... all brought together by her clown face! It doesn't matter that this is a cartoon, she's out there somewhere, she has to be. Who else would fall for a clown like me.....

And it doesn't matter that someone got this picture of a leopard making a dopey face.... because the picture was the only thing that made it back alive. After this shot was taken one of the fastest animals alive ran down the camera man... and ate him. You can't out run a leopard... what are you crazy?

Just like it doesn't matter that it's pouring out here. When you do your push ups in your draws anyway, no amount of rain is going to keep you from getting that workout in. Besides.... this way the sweat just washes right off. And you can tell she's been at it a long time, look at that perfect form. Her back would be completely straight if her ass wasn't so big.

Speaking of big asses, look at the size of Val Kilmer now. Somehow I doubt Iceman's going to be able to squeeze himself back in that cockpit. But it doesn't matter, he's Madmartigan, and he is great.

No matter where you are or what corner of the world you hail from, race, creed, color or religion, it doesn't matter. Men everywhere pray to the same altar.

Which is why it doesn't matter that they're standing in some random hallway, she's going to take her panties off anyway, and no one's going to say a damn thing about it. If anything, she'll be hailed as a goddess. Hell, that could be the back room at my beer distributor. These two were sent on a beer run, because another thing that doesn't matter is what these two look like or what they're taking off.... because somewhere there's some guy tired of nailing her....

You see. This guy couldn't take it anymore. What ever you have or don't have in life, you could have the most money in the world, the hottest wife, the coolest job, but it doesn't matter one bit if your god damned head explodes.

No sweetheart, that's not what you do with these things, you're not supposed to put your head through that. Let's be honest though, you're young, dumb, and I only bought this camera so that I could get girls like you up here alone and coerce you into making a mistake you'd regret for the rest of your life if you hadn't already found a way to justify it.... And it's working too... you've already got your legs spread, so it doesn't matter what you do with the damn picture frame.

That's no ordinary rabbit. That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!

That rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer!

And if you don't get the joke I'm not going to try to explain it to you. It doesn't matter.

I have no idea who theses people are or what they're selling, but I doesn't matter. I don't care. I tell you over and over again there are two things I love, chicks beating the hell out of each other, and watching people get kicked.... so needless to say this just made my day. I have to get that frame off of that one girls head and put this in it, hang it on my wall....

Ole boy doesn't care if he gets caught with his tongue up another girls skirt, or if she tells him to get out of there or never returns his calls.... either way he's going to have someone playing with his nuts. Proving why it's so easy to get chicks when you already have one at home.... because it doesn't matter....

Uh... yeah... I don't even know where to go with this... but it doesn't matter..... because....

Because next up is a picture of cleavage for no good reason other than I like it. I probably should have cropped this picture and left her head out. Hell, her face could get ripped off by the monkey in that last shot and end up looking like the dude in the blue suit with his brains flying everywhere.... as long as there's cleavage it doesn't matter... you won't even notice.

She is the greatest fan... EVER! If we had one or two ladies like this at my softball games every week we'd never lose. In fact, seeing this has me inspired. I think we're going to have this happen one way or another. Of course, it could backfire completely. It could be a major distraction. "We had a game? What? I was lookin at her.... next to that who cares how we played, it doesn't matter!"

Sometimes a picture really does say it all, doesn't it? Ok, ok, so at this point today's blog has gotten out of control, and there's not much point in going on with something that's not going anywhere, so I'll leave it with this... whether you like it or not....

or what I think for that matter....

We spend so much time getting ourselves worked up and bent out of shape over anything and everything when in this cosmic spam we call life, none of it really matters anyway, only our experience and how much we enjoy it. Whether it's the Pope, the President, you or a bum in the street, we all wake up in the morning and try to scratch out our existence. If you're lucky you have a few good friends to have some beers with to blow off steam afterwards. And if you're REALLY lucky, you have someone special to go home to and share those experiences with. And then you have to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

In the end, that's all it really is.

Later People.

Join my fanpage John LaSota - Writer

Or our creative team's page The Mad Doser Presents

And if you need a healthy helping hand from a Personal Performance Consultant
Coach LaSota