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Articles

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle…


I’ve been blessed in this life with two beautiful daughters. They’re specimens of physical perfection with hearts of gold to match. When the Supreme Deity crafted this unique batch of femininity, the angels assigned to assist were clearly instructed to use only the finest ingredients. Their sparkling blue eyes and charming little personalities light up the days of everyone they meet and I consider myself the luckiest bastard in the world to be their dad.

I swear on my Granny’s grave there’s no doubt the good Lord gave me kids as payback for my forty-year reign as CEO of Troublemakers, Inc. Blessing a reformed bad boy like me with two beautiful daughters is proof positive that Queen Karma not only exists, but that she loves retribution. No doubt at this very moment, God and the Queen are throwing back tequila shots in the clouds and laughing it up at my current plight…..

The plight of a newly single father.

When I was married, I thrived in the role of fatherhood… but with a catch. Everything was on my terms. When it came to bedtime stories, the occasional bubble bath or championship pillow fights, I was Father of the Year.

Ice cream before dinner?

No problem!

South Park for my 3-year-old?

Why not? It’s a cartoon, isn’t it?

As a married man, fatherhood seemed to be a breeze. Of course in retrospect, the only breeze around my house was me breezing out the door when the going got tough.

So much for Father of the Year.

I remember coming home after a long day of work to the same old scene time and time again….the interior of my beautiful home laid-to-waste courtesy of my genetic replicas. Despite having just arrived home themselves, my girls could create scenes of devastation on par with Hurricane Katrina in sixty seconds flat. Walking through the front door, my tired eyes witnessed a swath of destruction that surely must have contained every toy, book and crayon color known to man. And as if that weren’t enough, I could always count on my delicate eardrums being mercilessly assaulted with the combined cacophony of pots and pans set to a backdrop of The Wiggles theme song. Yet somehow, the amazing female brave enough to take my last name took it all in stride while her husband damn near had a meltdown of nuclear proportions.

Because of scenes like this, my desire for escape at the end of the day was stronger than that of a death-row inmate incarcerated on Alcatraz. Like a lot of guys, I could often be found locked behind the doors of my home office, praying to The Fates that my family would leave me alone. But this escape would inevitably saddle my long-suffering wife with a disproportionate share of the childcare responsibilities. Particularly, the less-than-glamorous bits.

Not cool.

For me, if the task in question involved baby backwash, juvenile fecal matter, whining, complaining or any number of other unpleasantries, I did my best to disappear faster than virginity on prom night. Because I worked a corporate job all day, I justified my vanishing act by rationalizing that a mother’s job description couldn’t possibly be as draining or taxing as mine.

I have never been more wrong.

Now that I’m a single dad and my ex-wife isn’t around all the time like she was during the blissful days of yore, I have a whole new level of respect and admiration for mothers and caretakers of every sort. I am now wholeheartedly convinced there is no more noble or selfless job in the entire world than that of a responsible, attentive and loving mother. Men like to joke about women being the weaker sex, but the joke’s on us, fellas…..there aren’t many men alive who can manage a household, earn an income and juggle family responsibilities with a fraction of the combined competence a woman can.

As proof of my point…yesterday, it took me over an hour to make two grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup for my girls. In typical Blood fashion, I somehow managed to turn what should have been a simple dinnertime ritual into an Act of God. Emeril Lagasse would no doubt have fired me on the spot.

BAM!

Between boil overs, plumes of black smoke and a litany of four-letter obscenities, I proceeded to annihilate every piece of cookware within a ten-foot radius. When I was done, my kitchen looked like the cross between a double homicide and the aftermath of an F5 tornado. I’m still flabbergasted the fire department or SWAT team never showed up. Unlike me, my ex could cook a gourmet meal with a baby on her hip while talking on her phone to her boss, and simultaneously helping my oldest daughter with her homework. Hell, I’m lucky if I can shit and fart at the same time!

I have to admit, prior to being a single dad, I never gave women the credit they deserved for their contributions in the role of motherhood. I took my ex-wife’s abilities for granted since I had NO idea it was this much work. Now that I’m on the hook for cleaning up after, negotiating with, and chauffeuring around two blonde chicks with as much of an attitude problem as their old man, I tip my hat to women all across the world. For a guy like me, it takes being on my own to realize what an amazing set of abilities many mothers intuitively and naturally possess. Compassion, attentiveness and patience are merely the start. Take it from a guy who’s recently learned the hard way; being a responsible, loving caretaker or mother is easily one of the most underrated yet important jobs in the world. For this reason, the nurturing instinct with which many women are blessed deserves to be cherished and validated at every opportunity. Because fifty years from now, it won’t matter what kind of car we drove or what the balance in our bank account was, but there’s a high probability the world will be a better place because a woman was important in the life of a child.

Articles

Why Men Prefer Older Women


I assume most folks are familiar with the term, MILF. If not, I think Wikipedia says it best…“A common colloquial term generally regarded as vulgar, yet denoting a sexually attractive older female; generally between thirty and fifty years of age.”

Despite its off-color beginnings and the words that comprise the acronym itself, the general consensus is the term MILF has evolved beyond its literal meaning and into a complimentary way of acknowledging the sensuality of a woman in her thirties and beyond. Thanks to television shows like Cougartown and The Real Housewives series, the term has permeated the lexicon of pop culture and helped shape the stereotypes of the beautiful state I call home. That said, one stereotype that definitely holds true is that California is a mecca for beautiful women. Fortunately for me, one such woman is my good friend, Lauren. One of the best things about Lauren is that she’s a forty-year-old mother of three. I’ve long contended a great many women grow more attractive as they age.

Both inside and out.

Several weeks ago, Lauren and I went to a popular restaurant in Los Angeles. It was Ladies Night and the place was overflowing with feminine physical perfection; eighty percent of it under the age of twenty-five. Forget about the standard double take, these young women were dressed-to-kill triple takes who make Kim Kardashian look like the north end of a southbound mule. Unfortunately, as Lauren and I quickly learned after some conversation with several of them at the bar, most of these ladies also matched Miss Kardashian in the intelligence department. The sheer amount of mind-numbing drivel pouring of their mouths was enough to make me want to stick a hot poker in my eye. Present company excluded, I’d be surprised if the combined intelligence quotient of those assembled could power a sixty watt bulb. Yet none of this mattered to the throngs of middle-age men who descended on these young women like packs of ravenous wolves.

Picture this scenario: Balding, middle-aged guys jockeying for the attention of young twenty-somethings, all the while ignoring the older, albeit no less beautiful women assembled at the bar just a few feet away. The scene reminded me of a beehive with all the activity focused on a few queens to the exclusion of everything else. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I observed this half-baked courting ritual in full effect. These guys clearly had their heads up their asses. It was all I could do to stop myself from pulling them aside to say,

“What the hell is wrong with you guys? The crown jewels in this joint are the mature women, my friends…not some barely legal half-wit who thinks the SAT test is something performed on a chair. Now get your asses over here and let’s talk to some real women….”

There’s something about a woman over the age of thirty that sets every fiber of my being ablaze with desire. Like a fine wine, I believe many women only get better with time. As a man who’s had the great privilege to love, appreciate, and adore a variety of women in my lifetime, I can tell you with absolute certainty that an older woman can stimulate both my loins and intellect in ways no college coed could ever dream. Who gives a shit about a few extra stretch marks or breasts that aren’t as perky as they once were? What these women supposedly “lack” according to the standards of our vain and youth-obsessed culture, they more than make up for in confidence, intellect and experience.

This is by no means an affront to the younger generation of women. They are after all, the feminine finery of the future. But most younger women haven’t yet had the opportunity to absorb the wisdom and knowledge learned primarily through years spent in the trenches of life. And it is this experience, my friend, why older women kick ass over their younger counterparts in almost every way imaginable.

It’s her complete and total lack of sexual inhibition as I work her over into a sweaty mess of tangled limbs and tousled hair. It goes without saying that a young, hot body is nice, but it pales in comparison to the self-assured sensuality and confidence of a woman in her sexual prime.

And let’s not forget the depth of her intellect that can stimulate me for hours on end. This is without question the most important factor in my own personal law of attraction. Personally, I’d rather be punched in the testicles than endure even sixty seconds of the mindless yammering typical of the average twenty-something. Unlike the middle-aged cock jockeys in the story above, I can’t fathom for even a moment why some men my age find ditzy younger women so appealing given the alternative. It’s a quintessential example of style over substance. Count me out of your mind-numbing sausage fest, Gentlemen. I’ll take brains before beauty ten times out of ten.

All in all, a mature woman’s quiet self-assurance in who she has become is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Like the cliffs that grace a rocky shoreline, many a woman’s life is shaped by the gale force winds of marriage, children, heartache and loss. Somewhere in the stormy chaos of a life built around serving others, many of these women sadly lose themselves. Fortunately for men like myself, they also find themselves again. The return path they blaze refines and shapes them like a master craftsman honing his finest art. What emerges on the other end is often another woman entirely. A stronger, wiser and deeper woman; borne of the trials and tribulations of modern life.

And that’s something no younger woman can ever hope to rival.

Austin

Articles

Social Media Booty Call


Unless you’ve been living on the moon for the past couple of years, you’ve noticed the massive surge in the number of websites dedicated to online dating. Along with old standbys like eHarmony and Match.com, hundreds of new sites now cater to every kink, taste and fetish imaginable.

If that’s your thing, smile your best Cheshire grin.

It’s a brand new day on the World Wide Web and you’re only a few mouse clicks away from finding your first love or “dating” an incarcerated felon. Anything you want is there for the taking if you’re so inclined; all you need is an internet connection and a little time on your hands.

New dating websites are blasting their way into every home in America with the cultural equivalent of an atomic bomb. The shockwaves they’re leaving behind are resonating through the landscape with permanent and irreversible effects.

Many online dating sites now offer an unprecedented opportunity to find that perfect match… even if you already have a significant other. As proof, one need look no further than AshleyMadison.com. Last year, this notoriously naughty website for married people seeking affairs signed up its ten-millionth member. That’s the number “1” with seven zeros, my friend! Traditional values have long been under siege, but never like this.

Picture this scenario….

Late one evening while you’re asleep, your husband clicks over to AM out of curiosity. The kids are in bed and he’s had a lousy day. He’s stressed out about work and finances and the two of you aren’t connecting like you used to. He heard about this website co-worker but just can’t believe it until he sees it. He tells himself, ‘There’s no harm in just checking it out…I would never have an affair.’

Click.

Click.

Click.

Ten minutes later he’s chatting with a woman across town. (Yes, it really is that easy) She’s cute. Really cute. And lonely. Soon messages are flying back and forth like a flurry of ping pong balls. He likes her. She likes him. It’s exciting, so he’ll likely return tomorrow night for some more “innocent” chat. After you’ve gone to sleep, of course. Over time they agree to meet for the “harmless” lunch. And before you know it……

BOOM!!

Mr. Monogamy takes one in the nuts.

Speaking of extramarital booty calls, can you guess the number one site for online hookups? The site that puts even Mistress Madison to shame??

If you said Facebook, you’re correct.

The same scene is repeated thousands of times across America every evening. Suburban housewife. Mother of two. Happily married. (Or so she tells herself.) Late one night she’s uploading family photos on Facebook when a message icon pops up in the corner of her screen. It’s Dave, an old fling from high school. ‘Hey Cutie,’ he says. Completely harmless….right?

Wrong!

Over the course of the next several months, she unknowingly and unintentionally heads down the most slippery of slopes.

It all starts innocently enough.

At first, it’s just surface talk. Family, career, kids and life in general. As the weeks pass, she begins to look forward to their evenings together online. With her glass of wine in hand and her husband and kids asleep, her time with Dave becomes her happy place and the escape she so badly needs. Dave is easy on the eyes and a fantastic listener. And unlike her husband, he really seems to understand her. Over time, she begins to feel alive again. Not since her early 20’s has she felt this vibrant. What began as simple online chat session eventually explodes into a blaze of passion she thought long extinguished. Before you know it, they begin to share details intimate enough to make a porn star blush.

And it’s all downhill from there.

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The sheer number of people on Facebook now make it the easiest place to start down the road to an extramarital sheet shuffle. In fact, the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers says sixty-six percent of their lawyers now cite Facebook as the primary source of evidence in their divorce proceedings. With stats like these, it’s clear everyday folks from all walks of life are going online in droves and meeting up with old and new flames alike. For the lonely wife or horny husband, the web is now a Category Five Tempest of Temptation swirling with opportunities that didn’t exist even a few years ago.

Now before we go any further, let me be very clear on one point: the websites themselves aren’t the real issue here. Their popularity is purely symptomatic of deeper sociological matters beyond the scope of this article. The websites don’t make people cheat any more than cars force people to drive drunk. What the technology does is make it substantially easier by creating or facilitating the opportunity. Whereas twenty years ago a married man might have to go to a bar or romance a co-worker for an extramarital booty call, today he can save himself all that hassle with just a few mouse clicks.

So what does this mean for society at large?

I contend the infidelity rate will continue to increase exponentially. For married and unmarried couples alike. It’s simply too damn easy to have an affair in the new millennium. This in turn will have an immense social impact on our culture as the concept of traditional marriage as a viable union takes a blow to the balls.

Don’t believe me?

For countless couples, marriage after the ten-year mark is already synonymous with boredom, loneliness and sometimes plain ol’ misery. By almost any metric, traditional marriage is on the skids if modern statistics are to be believed. For starters, the divorce rate is higher than the Empire State Building and more couples than ever are opting instead for cohabitation and open lifestyle choices. And that was before this new wave of technology made it easier than ever to sneak around.

This is one of those times it doesn’t always please me to share the cold, hard truth of reality. But my sworn mission is to be an advocate for women and a critical part of this charge is creating awareness of issues with life-altering potential in a woman’s world.

Issues for better or for worse.