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Hey All

I'd like to apologize for the rap.  Was meant to be a funny take on an already "dirty" song -  funny since I'm known as the "good boy".
I am, and I am 100 percent against violence of any kind.  I work with many organizations to stop violence and bullying, and will continue to.  It's something I strongly believe in. Very sorry to anyone I've offended.

Hey Reality Star ! (Video Reading)

Hey Reality Star!

Hey reality star... you suck. You can't ever be taken seriously because... look it...I mean....You're on a friggin' reality show for God's sake! You suck because you've become famous for being yourself, partying, and  having sex with cameras following you around. You are a SELLOUT! Ok I'm sorry, I will be kinder to you. I know that the show doesn't represent your entire personality but I have to judge you solely on what I see on TV. The fact that you signed up for a reality show means that you are desperate for fame, you have no brains, family values, or any sense of self respect. There is absolutely NO WAY that you can be on a reality show yet also share these traits. I mean....can I even call you a "human" now? Are you human? Maybe you were, but you can never be again. Whatever you do, do NOT expect to be taken seriously in the real world after being on a reality show. How the hell can we take you seriously? The fact that cameras followed you around for a few weeks absolutely diminishes any positive humanly qualities that you once had.

Don't expect to ever get a job because you've never worked a day in your life. You have money from being on a reality show but you sure as hell don't deserve it. You didn't have a 97 average from the time you were in first grade to high school. You didn't graduate college with a 3.9 GPA. You don't know what work is, your rich family supported you your entire life. You don't know what its like to get your electric turned off because your family can't pay a bill. You don't know what its like to watch your parents break their back in order to buy you a new pair of Jordans. You are unappreciative because of those cameras that followed you around...I'm sorry...

Don't ever...EVER...be expected to have any talent of any kind whatsoever...EVER! Real talented people who have been working their entire lives still haven't achieved a tiny percentage of success that you have gotten over night. Do you feel proud of that? The fact that you made it so quickly means that you've never done anything talented in your life. You were on a reality show! You can't spell. You can't read or write. You can't sing or perform.You aren't an artist. You can't draw. You have zero creativity otherwise you wouldn't have to go on a show like that and make a fool of yourself. And here is a very important point. Do not expect to ever do anything else in the entertainment industry. Did you ever read Scarlet Letter? (Probably not because you're a reality star) But that's what you are. A disconnected outcast. You can't act. You weren't the lead role in every high school play. You've never memorized a full play and performed it at the theatre in front of hundreds of people. You never performed Shakespearian monologues. You never studied acting or had a real audition. Now that you're famous you expect to be in the next big movie just because of who you are. How do you sleep at night?

Don't ever expect to love. I see what you do on that show. You sleep with a new chick every night. What a pig you are. REAL men who aren't on reality shows do not bring random girls home from clubs and bang them. You have zero respect for women. You weren't raised in a house with only your mom and two sisters so how do you know how to respect a female? Females do not want to hook up with you. You are taking advantage of them because of your fame! You don't keep in touch with them after you hook up. In fact, you tell everyone that "she was a hoe" and ruin reputations. Its all YOUR fault don't you get it? Because the TV shows your life being documented while you are a young man in his early twenties in a party environment, you have no passion, emotion, or love to share with a significant other.

So I think you are getting my point here reality star...You just suck. And the more your show is about drinking and partying, the harder you suck. Drinking and partying is not something everyone does! Hardly anyone does it so the fact that you have the audacity to get up there with your little dance moves and rub it in the faces of everyone is bullshit...So remember you're not smart, you have no talent, you'll never be anything else once the fifteen minutes is up, you are a terrible person with no morals, and you suck.....................oh and I can't wait to watch your show on Thursday! Bye!!!!

Inadequate - Part I

His name was Gabe and all he ever wanted to do was fit in. Gabe was a 17 year old senior in high school and was not the most popular kid in school by a long shot, but also wasn't the least popular. He had just enough credibility where it earned him a seat at the "cool" table in the cafeteria. Gabe was at the age where almost every topic of his conversations with other students revolved around sex. You see, Gabe was the only one (supposedly) who was still a virgin and he had to listen to the other boys constantly bragging about their crazy sexual experiences. This upset him due mostly to the fact that he could not engage in the conversations without making up lies about his own experiences. The others knew that Gabe was lying and would constantly bully him about not hooking up with any girls. This made him constantly worried about not fitting in with the others. Gabe felt inadequate, not cool, and alone.

One Friday Gabe lands an invite to a keg party. Because he can not fit in with his "friends" by being a ladies man, Gabe experiments with weed and alcohol so that he can seem cool. He mostly fakes inhaling and doesn't drink that much but nonetheless Gabe is making some headway with fitting in at the party.  He sees a girl that he's known since kindergarten named Christina. She is very pretty and speaks to him because of their pre-established relationship. Christina is wasted and at the end of the night needs to be walked home by Gabe. When they get to the house she invites him in and Christina is DTF. Gabe is extremely nervous. "I'm not prepared for this" he thought..."What if I fail, I don't know what to do." But Christina's buzz is wearing off and she jumps on top of him. From general knowledge Gabe takes the general steps to having sex. (Removes his pants, her pants, and starts childishly making out.) Christina has a condom ready and hands it to Gabe (she's done this before.) He has never put one on and is so nervous he is actually shaking. He can't get it up. She is waiting anxiously and asks him whats wrong. Gabe is discouraged, throws his clothes on and storms out of the house. He walks home embarrassed and ashamed.

It is now Monday and all of Gabe's friends bombard him with questions about what went down with Christina. Gabe has to embarrassingly respond by saying he did not have sex with her. "It just didn't happen" he cowardly responded. The other boys figured what went down and continued to laugh and bully him like never before. To make things worse, Christina told the story to her girlfriends and they were bullying him as well. As Gabe walked through the hallways he would get snooty looks and would hear constant chuckles behind his back. He is depressed and ashamed. Gabe never wants to return to school again.

Some of Gabes older cousins learn of what is happening in school and they offer advice. They tell Gabe that these sort of things happen to everyone and when the opportunity is supposed to happen it will. One of Gabe's more sleazy cousins, Mike,  tells him to pop a viagra next time he has sex so that he can get over the initial bang without any problems. That weekend there was a bachelor party being thrown for one of Gabe's cousins. Gabe could not go to the nightclub part of the party but the guys invited him to the hotel part where strippers were putting on a private show. Sleazy Mike pays one of the strippers one thousand dollars to have sex with Gabe. Gabe has been drinking alcohol the entire night and takes a viagra. Gabe is alone in the hotel room with the stripper, his heart starts racing and he gets an intense headache. He feels weak and starts hyperventilating. His cousins run in the room and try to nurse him to health but he passes out. The next day Gabe wakes up in the hospital and realized that he had some adverse effect from the alcohol and viagra. One can only imagine how sad Gabe feels right now. He actually gives up on having sex, stops speaking to his friends in school, concentrates more on academics, and finishes his high school year a virgin.

A few months later Gabe is off to college. His first day there he moves into his dorm room and is already making tons of friends. Flyers are being passed around for a beginning of the year party. Gabe goes to the party and has the time of his life. It is a clean slate and no one passes judgement on each other. This makes Gabe feel more confident and he ends up picking up a sophomore sorority chick named Sarah. The cool college dudes are giving Gabe the thumbs up (Sarah is good to go and likes to have sex...with everyone) They both share the same housing unit so going back to her room at the end of the night was not a problem. They are both wasted and start hooking up as soon as they get in the room. Gabe quickly thinks to himself to take a viagra before he puts on his condom but it is too late now and Gabe doesn't have the best experience with the drug. Gabe has sex with Sarah with no condom or viagra because his moment had finally arrived and he didn't want ANYTHING getting in his way of finally having sex. Gabe lasts five minutes but feels accomplished that he finally lost his virginity.

The next month of college was great for Gabe. He was getting good grades, making new friends, and enjoying his independence from home. One day Gabe gets a text from Sarah telling him she was late on her period. Her pregnancy test comes up positive. In this moment, Gabe feels like his world has closed in on him. Never has he wished so much that he can go back to his senior year in high school and be the nerd who got made fun of everyday for not being able to have sex.......

The Double Standard

Do I dare write about it? Do I venture into the cerebral territory where so many men have gone but failed? This particular subject is one that is highly debate-worthy and has troubled society for generations. That is the famous double standard: if a guy hooks up a lot he is "the man" and if a girl does it then she is "a slut." If myself and many other men do eventually find wives, our mental constructs and upbringings have conditioned us to seek a girl that has had a smaller number of sexual partners. However the general argument of the double standard should be viewed from multiple perspectives and philosophies which could prove that although most men would not want to marry promiscuous females, her sexual behavior may not warrant the use of the term "slut."A big part of why men are not condemned as much as females for being promiscuous is that a vagina is higher maintenance than a penis. Many comedians have spoken about how the female tunnel of love is known to be "pretty" and penises are not. In order for a woman to "get off" she needs all sorts of mechanisms, tongue rotations, speed and penetration levels, candle scents, etc...But for a man, a few simple strokes and he experiences 5 seconds of bliss. Men also have more testosterone in their system which increases the eagerness to fornicate while women are more able to practice self control. These points establish a general reason why women are expected to have sex less than men. She is carrying gold and he is carrying silver. However, as valuable as gold is it is still given away or exchanged on few and certain occasions. So women do have the right to give away their gold if the price or time is right without losing "self respect." If a woman meets a man and has sex with him the same night,  I have no doubt that many will consider her a hoe with no self respect. But what if within that short period of time that man had highly triggered her mental, emotional, and physical levels. This would be rare, but possible. The same way someone may convince me to give them a piece of my gold in one day; not likely but possible. Porn stars are a fine example of this system. They are considered sluts but technically they are selling their gold every day. You may not agree, but to them (and men who marry them) the money is more important than the commodity at hand. So although she is getting pounded on camera, technically she is being rewarded for the goods that she posesses. Going back to my introduction, the reason I want my wife to have a low number of sexual partners is not because of her level of self-respect but it serves as a gauge of determining her judgement level in general. Like how quickly she is to give away a precious product without good reason. I think the same rules should apply for men but substitute the word silver for every time I used the word gold. It is still a commodity we posses but it is less valuable and easier to give away. Also a man's testosterone will want him to experience that five seconds of bliss as often as he could. So I will not frown upon women who have one night stands or do "skanky" things as long their transaction was well judged.

The End.

We laughed we cried, we won we failed 

we've seen the walls of the seaside jail. 

From serious dinners to silly pranks 

some were winners ,and some were skanks. 

The town was alive as he announced the cabs 

as was the house full of female jabs.

Countless tears and beers that were logged

beside the toilets that were clogged. 

Romances made way, amongst the fights 

some that were long, others one night. 

Many messages were sent through our wise quacking phone, 

For those it pertained to, the red whistle was blown. 

Bedroom furniture, that was rearranged 

due to arguments, that never change. 

Facial jewelry and a year of fame. 

spurring up many "yo, you changed." 

Will the fighting go on forever ? 

Trust no bitch, trust her never. 

Will there be more testosterone ridden, sunny days 

Hair cuts that fade, tans that are sprayed. 

For now our skin, brains, and oreos are fried. 

But if we continue, TRUST we will bring you along for the ride…we will bring you along for the ride. 

Peace for now

                                               

                                                      -Vinny ....on behalf of my orange friends.

Dancing Queen

My favorite quality in a woman is great dancing ability. Of course being a real “dancer” (i.e. ballerina, hip hop, lyrical) is sexy and impressive, but I am not referring to only the professionals. I’m talking about THAT girl who owns the dance floor, VIP booth, or couch that she is standing on. The hip hop is playing, she’s standing in her small space, swaying her sexy waist back and forth, doing LITTLE things with her butt, hands, fingers, face, hair, shoulders, etc…that makes me think “yo, she got it and I want it.”  It means so much to me for the obvious reasons: it is sexy, fun, requires talent, rhythm etc…but a woman’s dancing transcends into so many different aspects of her personality.

 I know what you’re thinking: “if she can dance well, then she can fuck well.” This is true. Rhythm in bed is necessary for both parties. In bedrooms (smush rooms) music is usually played in the background because sex is a dance. Let us call it “the choreography of loooooove.” (Bow chicka wow wow) If one person cannot follow said choreography the energy vibe is weakened and someone is not experiencing the Euphoria that they deserve (getting off.)            

Besides making sex amazing, if a woman can dance it speaks to many aspects of her personality. A good-dancing woman is a confident woman. The key to reading confidence is recognizing body language. Next time you see a girl who is a good dancer look at her shoulders. A confident person will always have their chin up, shoulders back (dancing necessity), totally exposed to the world without worrying what she looks like because she knows “she got IT.”

If a girl can dance then she is probably chill. Physical rhythm is cool, fun, interesting, easy going, and smooth.  Body is connected to mind and soul hence those characteristics may transfer to her personality. 

Now here is some advice for men (if you do not know already): when a girl who knows how to dance is dancing on you, your job is simple: virtually, DO NOTHING. Let her lead you with her waste and just follow with your hips. She does not like being smothered and your boner poking her through your True Religions. This leads me to my next positive personality trait of being a good dancer: the chase. Men do not like it if it’s too easy. But if she can lead you in a dance (she has to because you are behind her! Unless you want to be in front of her and miss out on that amazing booty) you are forced to follow her and she has the upper hand (drives men crazy.) Don’t worry you will have the upper hand later in the bedroom.

These are a few of many reasons why dancing is one of my most important characteristics in a woman. It all comes down to a girl with swagger. Swagger on the dance floor, in the bedroom, at a family party, or even walking down the street is key and dancing is an indication of if she has it. It is impossible to have swagger and not dance well.  I don’t care what race she is, physical appearance, a stripper, groupie, go go dancer, queen of England, on a stage, in a cage, pressing up against you, doing the Dougie, or by herself bobbing her head in the corner as she’s drunk BBMing, REMEMBER: not only is she a good dancer but she has IT. And you want IT my friends….you want it.  

The Realness

I love realness. Not racist; real. Not rude; real. Profanity, humor, bluntness,  right in your fucking face. It is so correct to be politically incorrect. The best people are the ones who tell it how it is without giving a shit what other people think about them. We only censor ourselves because we don't want others to think we are the racist, sexist, biased, douche bags that maliciously hurt others. I want to laugh and not judge, say it and not censor it. If someone makes fun of my race, I want to make fun of their race right back and then take a shot of Jack Daniels with them. I want everyone to make fun of each other starting with themselves without getting upset. The phrase is make "fun" not make "sad." I love when Italian people call themselves pasta meatball eating guinees, when Irish people say that they drink too much, when Chinese people say they can't drive, when black people say that they're scared of water, when gay people say "no homo", when Jewish people call themselves cheap, when celebrities go out and get wasted without caring, when porn stars tweet about sex, or when brown people say "I'm Indian...dots, not feathers!" If you're  poor say  "I'm broke as a muhfucka!" and if you're rich say "I'm rich bitch!" If you can't get laid say "I have no game." If you get it in every night say "I get mad ass." If you smoke weed say "I'm high as shit right now." If you don't smoke weed say "I never did and never will mess with that shit." There is no correct answer as long as you keep it one hundred. If you offend someone with your comments, you are talking to the wrong person. Real recognizes real and will understand the difference between a joke and a jab. The most attractive quality in a person is assertiveness. They are assertive because they are telling the truth with no secrets or games. Do you like this blog? If I gave a shit, it would contradict my whole point. If you don't like it, feel free to tell me. I won't be upset you didn't like it. I would be upset if you didn't keep it REAL.

The Voice Inside a Drunk Girl's Head

Uh oh. There you are again. I warned you last time but you never listen. How many shots of Patron did you do tonight? How many cosmos and glasses of white wine did you sip until the problem started occurring? You were such a sweet intelligent girl and then BAM, all of a sudden you're Courtney Love. Your breath smells terrible as you scream and butcher the words to Rihanna's Only Girl in the World. You were cute and innocent and now all of a sudden you keep saying "mothafucka" and throwing up gang signs. Stop using the N word you aren't black. How much do you weigh? 110? You thought you were cool keeping up with the others but you obviously have to reassess your tolerance level. Oh no, don't go up on the bar please don't.....I told you you would fall. Now your knee is bleeding. You smell like perfume, hairspray, sweat, and blood. Stop pulling on that guys shirt and falling all over him. You're 24 and you need a babysitter. Nice underwear. Ok lets find your friend because she has your car keys. Wait a second, you have car keys?!?! No you are not going to be fine stop saying that. Where is your phone? Great... its dead. Who did you come here with? You really forgot all of your friend's names? I can tell they really care about you by letting you tweek out in corner like this. Wow, you just puked. I feel bad for that guy with the baggy jeans and button down over there who's about to make out with you. Oh no, this is an actually really important person to know and you're slurring all of your words and telling stories that don't even make sense. Can't you see that he's forcing a smile and trying to get his friend to pull him away from you?! You are actually a beautiful girl, but your intoxication is very unflattering. I understand you want to go out and have fun but you are turning into that girl that no one wants to go out with. Who is this guy you are getting in a cab with?! Can you hear me at all any more? Your mind is now black like the ending of the Sopranos. You are not even going to learn from this experience because you need to remember your mistakes in order to learn from them. Tomorrow you are going to reek of cigarettes, Jim's cologne, latex, and regret. One day you will listen to me. I'm done now. See you next weekend.

My Religion

WARNING: Before reading this please know that I am not trying to influence you in anyway. This has been my life experience. "You just do you, and imma do me"    

What religion am I? I was born and raised Catholic until I reached the age of sanity (George Carlin.) I am now a man of all religions. Think of a light spectrum (Pink Floyd/see below.) I am the white light that is the source of all colors after it is filtered through the piece of glass. The Bible, Qu'ran, Torah, etc...(only ones I could think of) share the same message disguised by different symbolic stories. Peace, love, happiness, the present moment (the white light) are the religion I follow. Who is my God? (or word that I am wondering if i should capitalize or not) My God can not be put in a box with your God. My God is a verb not a noun. My God does not judge. It is the experience, the force, the intention, the stress-free feeling that lies underneath the emotions and thoughts that cause anxiety, stress, and depression; like the sand remains still as traffic passes through the ocean. Do I need to use the word "religion" or "God?" They are just words that point in the direction of your own subjective outlook and experience of life. Am I an Athiest? Hell no, that would mean I have an absolute belief in a set of manmade rules. Following rules doesn't make you a good person. I don't know what religion I am, I just follow my path that I have zero control over. Once my mind stops looking for God and I feel the absolute serenity of a quiet brain then and only then do I experience God (dog spelled backwards) a.k.a. the happy feeling that Jesus, Allah, or Buddha want me to feel.

Why I started a blog

I started a blog...because Twitter doesn't have enough room for me to write shit...for short shit read my twitter...for long shit...read this