heads or tails

A co-worker gave me this poster today.  When I hang it up, which side faces  the wall?

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By brettdownsconspiracy Tagged

Food=Sex?

So yeah I’m back in the dating pool.  You know, first time since 1985.  Things are a bit different.  I have noticed how women are really into food these days.  Many of them equate it with sex.  I spent a bit of time thinking about this and realized the following.

Food and sex are both sensual activities.  The preparation of food is similar to foreplay.  It tantalizes you with anticipation.  Your hunger grows.   The consumption is like the sex act in that you are actively pleasuring yourself.  The afterglow leaves you feeling good and fulfilled.  There must be some seratonin released into the brain that triggers the same response.  Also, there is cleaning up afterward.

I think maybe it is that food is easier, more accessible and less intense than an actual sexual encounter.  While it’s true both a meal and sex are better shared with someone, food is more socially acceptable than whacking off.  I mean, I can tell my friends about my dinner but…

So anyone dating out there, be prepared to try new foods and encourage it in your date.  At least if you want to get laid.

Rapture?

Today started off like a typical day with Jack and I running errands on our bikes.  We ran into someone we knew and this impacted the whole day.  By 7:45 the great day I had planned with my kids fell apart.  Old problems showed their scarred faces and wounds opened again.  I ended up spending most of the day alone.

Finally, my older son came to my rescue.  He came home, skipping baseball practice to spend time with his old man.  We did some work, ate some food, rode our bikes.  The smile came back to my face.  They say the son becomes the father to the man.  It happened today.  He knew that I was tweaked and came home to take care of his old man.

While we were riding I thought of an old article in Freestylin’ magazine where Lew said “never take a riding buddy for granted”.  My buddy came home and took me out riding.  I will never ever take him for granted.  He came home and saved me.  Guess that was my Rapture for today…

The Source

Walking through the city feeling as tall as the buildings around me, she held my hand in hers.  The soft touch offered a calming charm with an exciting hope.  Her delicacy contrasted the concrete and bricks around us like a flower popping up from a crack in the sidewalk.

 As we walked along the river I thought about all the raindrops, each with their own history, making their way to the river.  The random drops all met by chance and became a part of something great.  We stopped walking as I wrapped my arms around her.  Her back was to my chest as I looked over her shoulder to see the sunlight shimmer off the water and her hair.

 How we both managed to live our lives independently and somehow managed to join together for this one moment I don’t know.  The water kept moving forward temporarily restrained by its banks toward a wide open and limitless sea.  I gave her a gentle kiss on her neck and thought this is the perfect first date.

By brettdownsconspiracy

Like I need another hole in my head

Found it, couldn’t say no.  Sample bike, only blue one in existence.  I’m riding it freewheel.  Just need to scrounge up some old BMX calipers.  I think it’s a play bike/commuter.  We’ll see.

the "Blue Meanie"?

By brettdownsconspiracy

True Dat.

I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty… you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are.
J. D. Salinger

The way every time I see her her toenails are a different color.  When she glances over her shoulder and smiles at me.  She always smells nice.  Lot of power in the little things.
By brettdownsconspiracy

Blue Sunday

I woke up late to the cool and rainy breeze blowing through my window.  The emptiness of the house challenged my mind.  Both my stomach and soul felt empty.  Rather than fill myself with food, I decided to fill my home with music to nourish me.  I listened to some old friends and the loneliness waned as I realized that it’s all right to feel blue.

And then I find the Descendents, fill up my bonus cup and start my day.  Thanks Bill, Stephen, Karl and Milo for the kick in the ass.

By brettdownsconspiracy

The road to Hell

My dad told me his grandmother used to say “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions”.  He thought that was a great saying.  I never got it.  What else is there besides good intentions?  Yes, sometimes things go bad when you were planning on doing something good.  But does that mean good intentions are inherently evil?

Yesterday I took my bike to work with the intention on riding over my lunch break.  I was looking forward to a session on my tennis court near work but it didn’t happen.  My boss came in and had to fire one of my friends.  A dark cloud fell over the office.  Conversations ceased beyond work.  One of my co workers took my boss out to lunch to try to lighten the moment.  They left at my lunch time so now that we were down 3 people, I didn’t think I should leave the office.  It was a busy Monday.

My bike sat basking in the sun on the roof of my car while I diligently kept my head down and pummeled through the day’s work.  Walking out of the building at the end of the day, my bike was still perched waiting for me.  I got in the car, drove to a quiet spot behind a store and got my ride in.  My mid day ride was a good intention.  It didn’t happen because a friend was going through hell at the time.

Does that make any sense?

By brettdownsconspiracy

Cat’s in the Cradle

Just got off the phone with my dad.  I was supposed to take a weekend trip with him but the flights sucked and I’m not going.  I had sensed that he had some things he wanted to talk to me about.  We spoke about a will, life, my kids.  He told me that he hurts for me sometimes.  I could hear him holding back the tears.  I told him I appreciate that.  He said he knows it doesn’t do me any good or him any good.  I couldn’t argue.  I just agreed.  I told him that I’m trying to figure out things after the curve ball life threw me.  2011 is my transition year.  Maybe that’s why I started writing again.

Hearing your dad cry is a terrible sound.

By brettdownsconspiracy