A Conversation


Woman: “Peter we need to talk baby.”

Man: “Sure what did you want to talk about babe?”

Woman: “Well you have never asked about my family much so I thought I would tell you a few things.”

Man: “Gee I’m sorry babe, I just thought you wanted to keep some things private. You know I’ve been busy with my weightlifting thing.”

Woman: “I know baby, but I thought it was time to tell you my father is a higher up in a drug cartel in Mexico and my brothers work for him also.”

Man: “Um… what…”

Woman: “I’m just kidding baby, hehe, you should have seen your face. My family actually owns a bakery in Mexico City.”

Man: “And this bakery isn’t a front for any illegal operations…”

Woman: “No silly. hahaha, you’re so funny baby. My brothers are really sweet and they all nine do MMA and Capoeira.”

Man: “THEY ARE GOING TO CAP MY WHAT?!?”

Woman: “By the way they are on their way over now. They should be here in about an hour.”

Man: “HOLY SHIT! AN HOUR!!! We gotta clean! YOU gotta change! I gotta pray!”

Woman: “I don’t have to change they’ve seen me in less. Hey baby wanna get frisky? We could do a quickie!”

Man: “DO I WANNA WHAT!?! I can’t feel my arms. The room is vibrating… am I having a heart attack? Oh god… this is it…”

Woman: “What was that baby? You should put some clothes on. In my culture “an hour” can mean anything.”

[door bell]

-OM

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The Night of the Big Game


It is a Friday night and I am just now getting ready for the school football game. It is my sophomore year of high school and things have changed somewhat. My friends and I are able to drive, life is a little bit more fun, but the bullying still exists on a frequent occasion. I yell that I am leaving to my mom and rush out the door to my waiting friends and the feeling of freedom and the lack of adult supervision for a few hours. It would be a long few hours.

I don’t remember much of the game, which is odd because I rarely went to football games or large school events as it only invited more opportunities of conflict. I recall it was a nice humid evening, in Memphis, Tennessee, as we pulled into my parents’ house. I remember the familiar double beep of the alarm as I opened the door. In front of me was the door leading to the pool area of our home and to my right was my mother crying. Wait, why was my mother crying?

“Mary is dead,” she says as she rushes to hug me. Shock… I didn’t even cry when I heard the news, possibly because I did not want to believe it. I stored that sadness for later.

Mary had been living with us for the better part of the year of 1998 while she “reorganized” her life. She was smart, witty, had a great sense of humor, and a smile that could slay a room of men. She was from Jackson, Mississippi, where I had grown up and my mother’s hometown. Mary’s mother was my mother’s good longstanding friend. The other connection was through our particular sect of church which had a close knit group of friends from both cities, many of whose parents had gone to college together. Mary was important.

For a kid that had few things going for him, the attention she showed me was amazing considering she was in college already. To a sixteen year old boy, who’s every friend both in school and church was murderously jealous of him for being able to see her every day, this was a huge deal. And now all that was gone. I have a couple special memories with her, oddly enough both involved smoking cigarettes. My always “good for bad habits at the time” brother had introduced me to the joys of nicotine, so I would sneak out and have one on the occasion. When Mary arrived the first week she offered to drive me home from church one night, she had a white Pontiac Grand AM. I will always remember that car. We drove off and as soon as she hit the corner she had one lit. I laughed, and when she glanced at me in question I made a gesture for one to which she gave me with another surprised look.

“Yea, I thought I had caught a smell of smoke the other night, but your perfume does a good job of masking it,” I said with a grin.

“Just don’t tell your mom,” she replied with her memorable laugh.

The second memory is stronger, Mary had been dating my best friend Tim’s brother for a few weeks, but one night she rushes in my room. “I need a cigarette so bad!” she cried with a dramatized sigh. “Quitting for Michael not going so well?” I say with a chuckle as I fish mine out. “No it is not, but I don’t want to leave the house your mom might wonder.” It quickly becomes apparent that with the help of my sister our best option was to climb out one of our second story windows and smoke on the roof. It is one of my best memories of her, maybe of my past, I have. I remember feeling free from my troubles that very minute as we smoked our Marlboro Lights, and for a boy with multiple internal and external struggles going on, this was a blessing.

“They are saying they think she was hit by a drunk driver on the way to visit her mom,” my mother says with a sob. Mary had left that morning. My sister and I had come home to a handwritten note left in our shared upstairs living room telling us to be good and for me to be nice to my sister. It was the type of thoughtless gesture that still touched your heart that Mary was known for and I don’t mean that in a frivolous sense. Her smile could have brightened your day.

We are in Jackson, Mississippi at our old church, Mary’s church. It is a strange thing to know everyone at two separate churches from different cities, but my family does. My father is a Priest, an assistant pastor as he is a full-time physician, so we are forced in a sense to know everyone. I walk to the church doors and I see her coffin. I have never seen a dead body before, is her body ruined? It is my first real encounter with death and I have still not cried. This is possibly one of the two sources from which I learned the lesson of “delayed pain.”

I take a deep breath and walk in. As I approach her body I can feel eyes on me. Everyone knows that she was staying at our home, everyone knows who I am, but most don’t know how this girl, this woman, made an uncomfortable, depressive Korean kid feel like the world might be ok to live in. No one knew that her friendship was like a physical hand on my soul, comforting. As I approach her coffin and I see her face, so pale and still, I am suddenly angry. Nothing good lasts, is my thought as I turn abruptly away and stride quickly down the center aisle and out the door.

It is even more humid and hot in Jackson, than it is in Memphis. I am sitting on the steps of the church as my Godfather, my best friend Tim’s dad actually, comes out to see if I am ok.

“You really cared for her, I know son, it is ok to grieve, ” he says while laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. I tense, for I do not normally like to be touched, but from him it is ok. From him it was a trigger.

I begin to cry.

For Mary, Memory Eternal 1998.

-OM

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What to do if Someone tries to Hug You!


We have all been in these situations and judging from my previous post on hugging I can see the world could use some of my advice on what to do if someone tries to hug you! It is true, it happens and it needs to stop. The spreading of germs and unwanted affection is prevalent in today’s society and the forcing of physical interaction back is appalling. Here is what I do in these situations.

My immediate reaction, as I told one commenter today, to being unexpectedly hugged is to put my left arm in front of my chest for protection while stepping back into my attacker. I then ninja flip them and follow up with a one, two spider kick. Now I realize not everyone has been to the Super Hero Academy in Huntsville, Alabama. That’s ok because not everyone is cut out for that life, but anyone can do a spider kick.

If I face a frontal attack from an incredibly eager hugger I will sometimes shout out “Mommy I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it Mommy!” The reactions vary… but generally they pretend like they were rushing to hug someone else and they never speak to me again…

Sometimes co-workers (women) will attack you as a group and will try to “group hug” you. Obviously you don’t want to turn them in to the proper authorities, snitches never last long in prison, and a combo move isn’t appropriate either. I suggest farting if you don’t care for anymore future human interaction. Ever again. But at least it will work right?

I have found that eating certain foods helps to keep people away so I make a special lunch each day. Nothing says “don’t hug me” like a garlic, kimchi, curry, fish, and egg sandwich.

If things get drastic and you are continuously ambushed by the same person at work or family gatherings you can always wear a neck brace. I would point at it a lot too… a story might help.

Lastly there are certain situations where it is almost impossible to get out of hugs. Like at church or when relatives show up. Where there is a will there is a way, and where there is a child there is a shield. This is called the deflective method. “Oh Aunt Helga! … have you seen little Johnny lately?!?”

-OM

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How to know if your Man is cheating! By: OW


Weigh him! If he weighs more than a pig he is cheating on you! Since the beginning of the church we have been taught that a man’s sins make him heavier. This is obvious proof right? Or was that for witches…

Ask him 574 questions in a row until he messes up on one. Then you GOT HIM! Cheating little bastard!!!

Withhold sex from him until he admits it. This will NOT be because he ends up cheating out of desperately wanting sex… …

Follow him! Follow his ass everywhere and bring a camera crew. You might even want to contact MTV for a show.

Follow his brother! If his brother is a cheater then you can count your pennies that your man is also. It is a genetic thing.

Watch for differences in personality. Wait… is that happiness I see? Who the hell is he talking to!!! Cheating bastard! Men are evil!!!

-Opinionated Woman

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Male Advice – “What to do if a Woman Cheats on You!”


So the day may come when a woman will viciously rip your heart out of your chest, take a bite out of it, and then nonchalantly drop it in a doggie bag before throwing it at your feet. It will be brutal, it will leave you in shock, and it can be very easy to fall victim to despair. That is why I am here, to provide the males in this world a guiding light for which to come back to the living. I sympathize with you men; women can be such brutal beasts.

Here are some easy tips to speed up that recovery.

  • If a woman cheats on you that means you have won the lottery. We men do such stupid, silly things to piss our significant others off on a daily basis that when a woman does something monumentally stupid we have to covet those occasions. They really are rare, precious moments in which we get to gather all that palpable guilt, build it into a fictitious umbrella, and hold it over her head FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE. I am getting giddy just thinking about it… Women that cheat on you are keepers… as long as you become the gate keeper.
  • This is the point in which you say “Well… I have been meaning to tell you…”
  • Dump her and date a girl that looks EXACTLY LIKE HER! Women absolutely hate this!!! They will be forced to see the comparison and I would also take the time to flood your “Facebook wall” with tons of photos before she defriends you. Facebook revenge… now we are talking!
  • When a woman approaches you with an “issue” they normally expect some long drawn out conversation. Women love that stuff… men do not. The solution here is simple, if she is the “let’s talk it out type,” don’t give her the benefit of making herself feel better. Shrug it off and say things like “Coo… (leave the “L” off, it sounds more hard). I might even make reference to “Oh… we were exclusive this whole time?”
  • I think going ape shit is appropriate in some scenarios and it is even more fun when your woman is of the “gentle sort.” She won’t know what is happening as you RAGE around yelling Korean curse words and throwing pillows. I can teach you a few choice Korean words if you have the need, this ain’t no fortune cookie stuff though ok?
  • Date her sister.

-OM

https://aopinionatedman.com/category/relationship-articles/

 

Goodbye the night


Goodbye the night, hello the light.

Night terrors you may now take flight.

Weary body wake thee now.

Life essentials will have to take a bow.

Waking obligations I hear you calling.

Doing the motions, even the talking.

Automated we become, I seek the night still.

Even the dreams that come against my will.

-OM