Tell Me I’m Riiight!!!

Back in the day, I was hanging out with one of my less agreeable friends. We had very little in common except for a love of heavy metal. He had been in the US since he was 12 but still had a thick accent. He was born in Israel. He had a huge temper. I met him during my lean years. He’d make fun of me because my jeans had holes in them and not the fashionable kind, the falling apart cause I’m fucking broke kind. He’d make fun of the fact that when we’d go out to eat, I could only afford an appetizer. Well, he was in his late 20’s and still living with mommy. Easy to have the disposable income when you live with mommy. Heck, he even drove a beemer.

Well, he could be funny at times. He didn’t intend to be but I guess that made it funnier. He told me about his breakup with his girl. “It’s not you it’s me” he said she told him. Ouch, that’s like when you go to a job interview and hear, “Don’t call us we’ll call you.” I never met the lady but in all fairness to her he was ornery. Heck, as I said above, he had a temper and maybe she just said that to try and placate him. Anyways, as he went on, what’s the phrase? A little more information than I needed to know. He told me about how they had bought stuff together and they were dividing it up. Y’know DVD’s, CD’s, and um, **cough** **cough** sex toys. He related how he had bought her a vibrator. He was dissappointed she had kept that. I’ve never bought a sex toy, but I’d imagine much like a toothbrush, ownership is determined by whose orifice it was in. Not by whose name was on the receipt. I doubt his future GF was gonna be hot on the idea of using the same toy as the previous girl. I couldn’t understand his attachment to the toy. We never discussed feminism, but, uh, maybe he was “open minded” in a Hugo Schwyzer kinda way and, uh, she had used it on him. Yeesh…

And while we’re on the questionable humor track….

I’m not a PUA, but if I was…

I’d hang out at an adult novelty store and every time I saw an empowered womyn buying a vibrator, I’d be all, “Heeey baaabe, why ya gettin’ that when this don’t need batteries” as I grabbed my crotch. Hehe, I’m pretty sure that’s as good a way to get punched in the face as anything Roosh could come up with. Any of my fearless commenters want to try it and get back to me?

Anyways, despite my handle, this might surprise allot of readers. I rarely smoke marijuana. Given a choice I’d rather eat the stuff or better yet do shrooms. Heck, I’ve maybe smoked with 2 or 3 people in the past couple of years. I’ve gotta be really comfortable with someone to blaze with ’em. If your a shredding guitarist who idolizes Slash or a cute brunette with with libertine sexual attitudes, we might make good smoking buddies…

One time my irritable Israeli buddy called me up. He mentioned that he had offered to smoke with me several times but I hadn’t taken him up on the offer.

He said, “Maan, your such a poosy!”

I was hesitant, “uh, well…”

“Well, whot, maan???”

“Well, if ya want me to be honest, you can kinda be a jerk…

…and, uh, well…

…it’d be kinda weird if I smoked with you and I was just a little buzzed and then I said something random, and, uh, you got really mad, and uh, I’d like laugh and then, um you might punch me or some shit…”

He shouted back, “I caan’t belieeeve yo maaan. You’re sooo fuckin’ immature maan. You mutherfukker!”

I excused myself and couldn’t help laughing as the point had been proven…

Anther time we went to check out some bands together. I had recently been in a car wreck, my shoulder still hurts from it sometimes. My buddy was in one of his moods. I pretty much avoided him most of the night. We went to a hot dog stand and all he did was complain. Haha, I guess he was expecting Gormet for $4.99… Irritable, impatient, beemer–maybe there’s some kind of dark triad correlation I’m not seeing, but this guy drove like a maniac.

“Flash before my eyes, now it’s time to die.”

I am being overly dramatic, but it was a good excuse for some vintage Metallica.

It must’ve been 2am. We were heading onto the on ramp for the freeway. There was a car infront of us, going about half the speed limit. Y’know how after driving for awhile ya get that sixth sense that some cars you should just give allot of space. I was feeling that at this moment. Maybe we were dealing with an “impaired driver.” Maybe it was an out of towner who was lost. Anyways, Mr. Impatient didn’t have that sixth sense. He pulled into the next lane and gunned it. He seemed to want to prove that his car could do zero to sixty in 2.367 seconds. My guts clenched up that way guts do when one is on a roller coaster just before the big drop. The idiot ahead of us drifted into our lane. I heard the horn. In what seemed like too long a time, I felt the brakes. Heck I think I smelled a little smoke. I thought tasted something acrid, maybe I was throwing up a little.

“Jesus.Fucking.Christ” I screamed…

Oh, well, close only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades…

I apologized. I mentioned I was still on edge from the car wreck I was in a few days earlier. I woulda been able to leave things there, I didn’t expect his next words…

“I was riiight…”


“I was Riiight. Tell me I was Riiiiight.”

I just shook my head, I think I was silent for the rest of the ride.

Sometimes it’s better to avoid an accident than be right. Sometimes it’s better to avoid a fight than be right.

He’s one of those “friends” I just lost contact with. Sometimes it’s better that way.

5 thoughts on “Tell Me I’m Riiight!!!

  1. Why are all the MRAs silent on the Zimmerman verdict? I find that telling. Here we have a clear cut case of victimization of a male, and it has been countenanced and approved by the state. You’d think they’d be fucking outraged!

    Ohhh, I see. WHITE men’s rights. Not all men. Got it.

    Silly me, I actually believed that MRA-okeydoke for 5 minutes or something! 😉

    1. Have you seen GL Piggy?

      Seriously, I didn’t believe in “white privilege” until I read his stuff and Marcotte’s stuff…

      These guys whine and whine about something called “hbd” the way another group whines about patriarchy….

      I’ve long been dissillusioned with the man-0-sphere, as a mixed race guy (not telling which mix)–I know I’m not welcome in that alter-righty boi’s club…

      Who can get into a fight with a feminist about abortion and not wanting to be a stepfather on Monday?

      Then get in a fight with a white nationalist on Tuesday about HBD?

      Then get called a misogynist for not babysitting a drunk womyn on Wed?

      Then get called a homo for not “gaming” said drunk womyn on Thurs?

      Then get called a homophobe for saying I don’t associate with white nationalists or feminists because I don’t want them sticking things in my butt on Friday?

      Then not bothering with the internet all weekend cause there’s these great things called beer and videogames?

      Stoner With a Boner, that’s who…

      I didn’t folllow the Zimmerman trial but I’d hear guys argue about it at work and politely excuse myself from the conversation. Yup, you gotta make compromises to hold onto crappy employment…

      I told my mom about some of the harassment I endured from the pigs when I lived in a big city famous for bad cops. She couldn’t believe it. It’s not just black dudes who get looked at like their criminals by LE. Most every 20 something guy I know has a story about a run in with the pigs unless they looked straight up like a young rethublican 24/7. I don’t think that’s something most women can relate to but even white guys with a few tatts or some facial hair know what it’s like. (I have heard of women going to regular 9 to 5′s being hassled by LE for “looking like prostitutes.”)

    2. You may have left this around the time you asked me the same thing and while I said I was thinking about it I think I’m kinda glad most of them stayed quiet about it because if they did get outraged their outrage would just as selective and limited as the outrage that came from feminists who took Trayvon’s race and ran with it.

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