32 Things I Learned By 32

IG: raulfelix275

For the last two years I have been happily embracing the life of a 30-something. The world is a much less intimidating place. People in general take me and my ambitions more seriously. As a man, I’ve come into my own emotionally and in maturity. It would be foolish to imply that I’m fully enlightened, but I’m glad to say I’m no longer a clueless 20-something. As your friendly neighborhood wordsmith, I think it appropriate to share with you some of the knowledge I’ve accumulated over the years.

1. The past is the past, yet it isn’t. The past lives inside of us and molds us into who we are. I think about the Iraq War and my brothers-in-arms everyday. I think about the women in my past nearly as often. I think about my friends from high school and the stupid shenanigans we used to pull. I think about the way my family used to get together for the holidays and the values instilled in me. Not all of these memories are wonderful, some bring deep despair into my heart. They’re always there, ghosts who help me take better steps than the ones in past.

2. Travel has a point of diminishing returns. One of the biggest must-do experiences that’s been sold to our generation is the need to travel. It will help you learn and grow, but there is an eventual plateau to that growth. The core of who I am was always the same whether I was back on the block in Huntington Beach, California, serving in the Army, contracting in Israel, or finding peace in Upstate New York. If you are a cowardly, apathetic loser with no social skills in your hometown, what makes you believe that your’e going to be more outgoing in a strange environment where no one knows or cares about you?

3. Petty rivalries are a part of life. There are always going to be people in your social circle who don’t like one another, and you’re in the middle of it. There are always going to be people who don’t like you. It’s ingrained in our instincts to constantly be at war with some group of people or idea.

4. Bitching and moaning about who has more privilege isn’t going to get anyone anywhere. Shut your mouth and put in the work required to make it irrelevant. If you are at rock-bottom, you can still have clear-sight picture of the moon. There is more respect those who conquered and triumphed over adversity more than those who acquired their status through windfall wealth.

5. Hey, what scandal in the media were you pissed off about two weeks ago? Oh, you don’t remember do you?

6. Anger is both a powerful fuel and destructive force. I have an anger that is harbored deep within my soul. Correctly harnessed, it’s a fuel that gets me through my work day, pushes me harder in my work out, and helps create quality written work. When my anger is allowed to go rampant through excessive consumption of booze, it destroys much of the good I have done.

7. Some women will leave you broken and tattered. Others will help you heal. Hopefully, one will make you whole.

8. A true artist has no typical look. Growing up, I never had any ambitions to be a writer or any form of artist whatsoever. I didn’t feel it fit my personality. I was a clean cut, athletic, stuttering video game geek. Artists to me were those scrawny, trendy kids with crazy hair styles and with an insatiable need to express their tortured souls in a moleskin labeled “My Poetry.” As I experienced artistic work from people from all walks of life, I realized being a true artist is a state of mind, not a fashion statement.

9. Vice is a form of hiding from your true self. I’ve used drinking many times to keep my mind off the fact that I haven’t written shit in a while. It’s easier to pick up the bottle and forget about what you should do, than it is to do that task. If you don’t break that cycle at some point, it’ll break you.

10. It takes about a year to fully set yourself up and feel comfortable in a new city. Building a social life, acquiring a job, learning your way around town, and knowing the cool unique things takes pure raw temporal investment. Especially building new friendships. Face time is needed and is very important. Its hard to build a solid connection with someone you don’t have physical interactions with.

IG: raulfelix275

11. When you get into any new relationship, give the person a clean slate on your emotions. That means not projecting any past hurt any former lover may have inflicted on you. Don’t allow yourself to let the person project those past hurts on you either.

12. You are a product of your environment. I spent the formative years of my life in the 75th Ranger Regiment. Like anything else, I didn’t quite appreciate it until I left that place. I got to grow up in an environment full of the most type-A, competitive, intelligent, tough, and rough men in our country. It taught me level of masculinity, manhood, and perseverance that is probably unmatched anywhere else. It set the foundation of the man I am.

13. You are not defined by your environment. I still have the freedom to mold and sculpt myself into the kind of person I seek to be. I don’t have to be a certain way because that’s way people from the environment I grew up in tend to be. I am the master of my own character.

14. You don’t have to go to college right after high school, but really, what’s stopping you from taking that one class at community college. Knock some random general ed out. It doesn’t cost much and may benefit you more than you expect.

15. The worst thing they can say is “No.” That’s the mindset you must take whenever approaching anything in life: jobs, women, reaching out to possible mentors, applying to colleges, starting a business, and giving art the good junior-varsity try.

16. Embrace your minor vices. I love to start my day with two 16oz sugar free Rockstars®. Yet, every so often I get someone trying to lecture me how bad they are. Mother fucker, I work out and keep myself in pretty good health. Talk to me about your essential herbal teas when you have some muscle.

17. Go back and read books that you read when you were younger. You’ll be surprised by how much your world view has changed. One of my favorite writers, who I originally read when I was nineteen, is Tucker Max. While I still enjoyed reading his stories, I wasn’t as impressed now since I’ve had equally crazy over the top experiences.

18. Building good study habits is a discipline like anything else. You have to constantly be keep tabs on yourself and learn that in order to be successful tomorrow, you must sacrifice today.

19. Priorities in people’s lives change. Even those who you were at one time closest to may no longer align with what you value. Friends gets married, have kids, change a career, quit drinking, or may simply no longer believe the things that brought you together in the first place.

20. Information is a drug. Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter is how it’s administered. So much data is shoved down our throats that will never be useful. I’ve fallen into this addiction also. Constantly refreshing the feed for my “like” fix and those so precious comments. The social validation keeps one yearning for more and more, it just takes more likes and comments to get that high once again.

21. You must treasure your free time where you can indulge in your ambitions and lazy habits. Some weekends I’ll go on a sweet motorcycle trip to a new city. Other’s, I will layabout in my apartment watching 80’s and 90’s sit-coms and laugh uncontrollably. There is no shame in taking care of your needs, no matter how wild or typical.

IG: raulfelix275

22. Confidence is a muscle. The best way to build your confidence is to succeed at one task. Use that success as a spring board that will power through the inertia of doubt and make you stronger for the next challenge.

23. A good relationship is not built on only a few huge acts of generosity. Rather, it’s built on many small acts of kindness and caring compounded over time. The little sweet things you and your lover do for each other is what will keep your relationship healthy.

24. The significant other of your friend may not like you. Maybe you represent a part of his past that she wishes he’d leave behind. Maybe she doesn’t like that you go out and get drunk together. Maybe she doesn’t care for your general attitude toward life. It’s a frustrating position for me to be in because I can’t do much about it.

25. Some people are poison. A toxic person can destroy the most beautiful and promising of souls. Being able to keep those venomous personalities out of your life can literally save it.

26. Religious people don’t have a monopoly on love or morality. You don’t need to believe in a higher being in order to be a good person or one of character. I once had a Ranger buddy tell me that I couldn’t know love because I didn’t know Jesus. The self-righteousness of that statement infuriated me. I love my mother, my family, and my friends. I’ve been deeply in love with a few women. That belief in an of all knowing sky-daddy being the only way has caused more harm to humanity than any heathen activity.

27. The best way to get over a woman you loved deeply is to completely cut off communication with her. No trying to be friends. No checking up and seeing how the she is doing. That’s masochistic emotional torture. It prolongs the process of healing your heart and may keep you from pursuing other worthwhile relationships.

28. Nobody gives a fuck about what you could’ve done. You could’ve joined the military, you could’ve gone to an Ivy league, you could’ve been a doctor, you could’ve invested in bit-coin in the early years. But, you didn’t. What matters is what you did do and what you’re currently doing.

29. Writing as a craft is never ending. There will always be that next sentence, next paragraph, next article, and next book. As I’ve grown and changed over these few years, so have my challenges. The stuff that would burst out of me like wildfire a few years ago doesn’t even light a spark today. I’ve said a lot of what I’ve had to say on some subjects. It’s up to me as an artist to find that subject matter that reignites the flame in order to pour onto the page the words that are kindling in my head.

30. “You know what I liked about you helping me today, Raul?”
“What is that?”
“When I asked you to dig a hole two feet deep, you dug a hole two feet deep.”
Following simple directions is a core competency that is more valuable and less common than you think.

31. Ever notice that the news media makes you feel like the world is falling apart, but then you go outside and see the world is not falling apart. It’s like they have some sort of incentive to keep you glued to their programming.

32. The biggest myth of our lives and times is that we believe our lives and times to be especially unique. War, love, politics, civil unrest, creation, destruction, struggling, thriving, social norms, and social deviancies have always been a part of us. The reasons, locations, values, and methods may have changed, but at our core, we’re the same as humans from thousands of years ago. The greatest gift that our ancestors have left for us is the accumulation of the lesson they have learned. By reading, studying, and looking into the past we can apply those lessons into making our present and future greater.

Now, have a drink with me. A toast! To making it to thirty-three!

~Raul Felix

Read: Two Bros Smoke Weed And Compare Notes About Women
Read: 29 Things I Learned By 29
Read: 4 Things That Happen When You Start To Mature As A Man

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The Types Of Women You Date In Your 30’s

W1

(c) Jeremy Entwistle

The 30’s are a man’s glory years. The tides of the sexual market place are beginning to shift in his favor. The hard lessons earned through his 20’s are paying dividends. With his new found maturity, he is presented with opportunities that used to be merely erotic fantasies and wet dreams. If he has been able to keep himself from getting sucked into the clutches of marriage and kids, and developed his skills with women, by his 30’s he would have dated an impressive selection of ladies.

The Boss Bitch

A Type-A female working her mighty fine ass off to make it to the top of her chosen field. She’s hardworking, competitive, and well versed in using her bitch face in order to be taken seriously. For all her success, it’s tough for her to find a suitable match. Men are either intimidated that she makes more money than them, or try to take advantage of that fact. Too many men are effeminate these days and she doesn’t care for wimpy men.

Luckily for her, you’re a fellow A-type that can toss her around like a rag doll while you ravage her. You find her success and dedication to her vocation sexy. She’s very picky of the type of men she’s with and if she’s with you, you must be on top of your shit. If you show the slightest bit of weakness in the initial stages of courtship, she’ll eat you alive. 50% of women think they’re a Boss Bitch, only 5% are.

The Slacker

She hasn’t really done much other than be a manager at a retail store or a waitress. A job that pays the bills, but leaves her feeling meh. She will occasionally talk about going back to school for nursing or some shit, but will procrastinate on signing up for classes until its too late. Maybe next semester when life is less hectic.

She’s a pretty chill chick though. You genuinely enjoy the time spent together binge watching Netflix while smoking weed and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. It’s a pretty low key set up without much drama, though your combined monetary funds tend to be limited. You’ll probably get her pregnant. Luckily, she’s pro-choice.

The Single Mom and Proud Of It

“My kids are my life and I won’t put up with any man who thinks my kids are baggage, not a bonus!” This type of bold, but delusional, woman declares on her dating profile. Her baby daddy is usually an asshole, but she blames her lack of insight into the matter on being young, in love, and naive when they were together. Now she has two adolescent children, is back in the dating game, and thinks her sexual market value is equal to that of a woman whose body has not had some serious wear and tear.

She will at times exclaim a bitter attitude towards guys who won’t date her, because she has children, as douchebags who are unwilling to man the fuck up. “Keep hitting the bong loser because I represent reality,” she’ll affirm to herself as she rolls her eyes. She just wants to find a handsome, smart, tall, athletic, financially independent man with no kids who will put her and her two children above himself. In her heart of hearts, she believes this is a reasonable request.

The Single Mom and On The Down Low About It

Yeah, she’s a single mom, but so what? She had her kids when she was young and now they’re old enough to take care of themselves. She’s done her time in the housekeeping and after school activities trenches. She’s fucking sick of talking about her honor roll student and now wants to focus on herself. She doesn’t need a daddy for her kids, she needs a man to make her feel like a woman.

Having endured a drought of adult conversation and situations for the better part of a decade, she’s appreciative of the little things you do that you’ve done with dozens of other chicks in the past, because it makes her feel unique and special. Usually a serial monogamist, you’re the first lover she had in a few months other than that one night stand she felt really dirty about. She grows attached to you quicker than she should, but fuck it, you enjoy being with a chick who isn’t too lazy to cook and you ride it out to see where it goes.

The Young Chick

W5

(c) John Rohan

Age: 18 – 23.

She’s stupid, unappreciative, selfish, mean, a liar, flakey, and lacking the ability to NOT take a selfie every ten minutes; but makes up for these severe short comings because she’s pretty fucking hot and has a newly minted (legal) pussy ripe for the smashing.

Your conversations with her will be no deeper than the faith you still hold in humanity. She’ll throw a tantrum because you didn’t like her latest Instagram picture. Her text messages will be splattered with emojis and lols despite the fact that nothing funny has been said.

When she sucks your cock, you derive as much pleasure from the fact that she’s NOT talking as from her lips around your manhood. On occasion, she’ll have a stroke of brilliance and say something of value. Since she’s so young, she’s also malleable. If you possess the skill, you can sculpt her to your will. If you’re able to tie one of these down in her zenith, your prospects of living a happy life exponentially increase.

The Ticking Biological Clock

Age: 29 – 39

“Okay Becky,” she’ll affirm to herself as she looks into her bathroom mirror that has BAMF written on it with red lipstick, “You are done slutting around. You’ve got the hang of this adulting thing. Now its time to find Mr. Right.” As she finishes getting dressed for her date, she holds a staunch determination to not waste her time with fuck boys anymore. Her clock is ticking and she needs to find a man to breed and start a happy family with. If you ain’t about that, you best get the fuck out her face. *finger snap*

The Ticking Biological Clock can be a great bargain if you already have your life in order and are ready to begin the process of building a family. You may be able to snatch up a top-tier chick who would normally be out of your league, just because she’s highly aware that her child bearing years are numbered and her beauty is waning. If you ain’t there yet, be ready to be dumped promptly because she’s done waiting on men who are still doing their lost boy crap. Maybe if your game is on par, you can persuade her to slut it up with you few more times before finding “Mr. Right.”

The Cougar

W4

(c) Khrisna Susanto

Age: 40 – 59

Aged like a fine wine, these prowling she-beasts are sick of the boring men of their generation who are set in their ways. She’s a youthful soul who doesn’t recognize the person who is staring back at her in the mirror. Rocking a hard body supplemented by a high quality boob job, she’s genuinely hotter than 80% of young chicks. She is a bit bitter about men in general, but has also lost most of her inhibitions in the sack.

Her personality has been forged in the fires of life. Her awareness of the pretty lies and ugly truth of society make her an enlightening conversationalist. She has to remind you to not check your phone every fifteen minutes. Young bitches give her hate-filled stares when they see her with a stud like you. Your age difference will become more and more apparent as you date her, but fuck it; it’s nice to be appreciated, pampered, and feel like you’re the prize.

The Ethical Slut

Catering to the age ol’ tradition of polygamy with the modern twist of the relationship being open to both sexes. The Ethical Slut has read deeply into human sexual evolutionary theory and has come to the conclusion that humans are not made to be monogamous creatures. In fact, she argues, it’s more healthy to have a few lovers to fulfill all your needs instead of limiting yourself to one.

This works out for you because you are totally chill having someone to fuck around with to keep you from appearing too thirsty while playing the game. Plus, their insights into sex are rather intriguing. It’s a common misconception that Ethical Sluts are indiscriminate of who they fuck. In fact, they can be more tedious and demanding to get into the sack than your conventional slut.

The Conventional Slut

W3

While the Ethical Slut has a well thought out philosophy behind her promiscuous behavior, the Conventional Slut just loves cock and has very little self control. She’s a pretty fun chick to be around and the life of the party. She’s a favorite of womanizers and players because the minimal amount of fiscal and temporal investment required.

On your date, you hold open some doors, let her enjoy a drink as you tell some whimsical stories about your life, add a dash of humblebragging about your accomplishments, make a bold move at the bar, and she’ll be spread eagled on your mattress in no time.

One day, post-fucking, she’ll ask you why you don’t want to make her your girlfriend. Instead of being a man of honor and giving her the harsh truth, “I don’t take sluts seriously because I don’t want a chick who has had dozens upon dozens of other dudes dicks inside of her as a girlfriend.” You lie and say, “I’m not ready for a relationship.” She’ll feign contentment and you’ll continue to fuck her as she slowly fades away from your life.

The Prude

She doesn’t drink. She doesn’t smoke. She doesn’t curse. She doesn’t stay out late on weeknights. She works as a secretary for an insurance company and has a collection of stuffed animals littered all over her bed. She dresses like Diane from Cheers and insists on knowing all about your past relationships and if you still talk to any of your ex’s. She counts one night stands as relationships.

If you drink more than one beer on a date she’ll immediately be concerned about your ability to drive home and ask if you’re an alcoholic. She’ll insist you can have fun without drinking. She’s never tried weed and thinks those who do are low-life losers. She has a rigid idea of how dating, relationships, and her ideal man are supposed to be. You have failed to live up to her expectations. You tolerate her self-righteous criticism because you have the gut feeling that she’s into some kinky shit.

The Feminazi

“Feminist. Socialist. Vegan. Fuck Trump. Woke.” She proudly declares on her dating profile.

Sophomorically, you failed to pick up on these subtle cues that this chick is the antithesis of a good time. You’re too much of a horn dog to let political ideologies get in the way of seeing whether her carpet matches her blue drapes.

As you listen to her spew idiotic rhetoric after idiotic rhetoric, you feel yourself shaking in order to contain your anger. Only to finally explode when she says, “The world would be a better place if we were all communists.”

To which you retort, “Every single fucking communist regime in human history has murdered hundreds of thousands, if not millions of its own people.”

“Just like we murdered the Native Americans, elected Trump, and oppress women. I’m so embarrassed to be American,” she’ll smugly say.

You chug your beer, pay the tab, say, “Good night” and never talk to her again. Stupid is fuckable, treasonous beliefs are not.

The Bipolar Chick

W2

(c) Dr. Case

Practically useless in every way except for the fact that she’s pretty cute, intelligent, and understands you better than anybody ever has when she isn’t lost in a deep state of depression, which leaves her bedridden for days on end while ignoring your texts, yet being able to update her Instagram with posts about being a strong woman and appreciating the man in your life.

Her long journeys into the nether regions of the human psyche gives her the uncanny ability to manipulate you. When she’s manic, her aloofness disappears and she showers you with the attention and affection you deeply desire. Only to have her mood go haywire when you make a remark that triggers her. Over the course of this so called relationship, she’ll suck and feast on your emotional marrow until you are left a hollow shell of your former self. She was a pretty good fuck though.

The Dream Girl

W6

(c) Tomasz Pro

After all the bull shit you’ve been through, rifling through different types of chicks, you may have actually found the elusive dream girl. You have a 96% match on OK Cupid and your message exchange flowed effortlessly.

Upon meeting her for a drink, you’re pleased to discover that she looks way better in real life than in her pictures. Your browbeaten heart flutters like it hasn’t in a long time as witty banter ensues over drinks. She’s smart, sexy, sincere, ambitious, and has your same wicked sense of humor.

She may be it. The chick who finally gets you to give up the game. Who makes you want to be a good man. You can totally imagine yourself building a life with this prime example of womanhood. After a sweet good night kiss, you walk away smitten. You text her the next day in order to set something up, but don’t get a response. You try again a few days later. No response. Fucking bitch.

~Raul Felix

Read: It’s So Hard To Say “No” To An Easy Lay
Read: 4 Things Women Can Do To Be More Attractive (From A Non-Beta Bitch Male Perspective)
Read: Why Young Men Should Become Cougar Slayers

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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Onward to 2018!

IG: raulfelix275

Eventually, even the hardiest of vagabond’s souls longs for rest, stability, and the familiar. While visiting California for my aunt’s wedding, it really weighed on me how much I missed my friends and family. I had been gone from home for over two years. Most of that time was spent in the picturesque town of Ithaca, New York, a place where I found solace as I worked through my personal demons. After working hard to establish a life there, I burned it all to hell, ditched whatever didn’t fit on my motorcycle, and then traveled randomly around the U.S. until my money started to run out.

The goal was to make it home by Christmas Eve 2016, but snow storms on the I-8 made the night trek through the mountains not only a blisteringly cold affair, but a suicidal one. I was forced to turn back as my family celebrated Christmas Eve. That night I crashed at my Ranger buddy compound in the outskirts of Yuma, Arizona. Rammer’s compound is guarded by eight pit-bulls split into four, two-dog teams who provide three-sixty security. They are divided into four kennels lining the entire perimeter and are constantly rotated in order to keep their alertness up. Effectively preventing Santa Clause from delivering any Christmas cheer.

I made it home Christmas Day, but my family doesn’t do shit on Christmas Day. I rung in 2017 in a dignified manner by getting smashed with my So Cal Ranger buddy’s in Riverside.

The month of January and February would find me couch surfing at my aunts house in Downey. I needed an income. I would ride my motorcycle to the various downtowns of Orange County, Los Angeles, and the Inland Empire hitting up dozens upon dozens of bars and restaurants in search of work. I even hit up the old establishments I used to work at. But all of my efforts were for naught. I had failed to account for the post holidays crash in patronage the restaurant industry experiences. Luckily, my step-dad had random Mexican day-laborer work for me to do that gave me money for gas and food.

Seeing these actions weren’t yielding results, I decided to expedite my future plan: I enrolled in electrician school using my GI Bill. In a last minute scramble, I got all my shit together and signed up for a full course load for the spring semester. I made the rapid transition from responsibility free vagabond/bum to full-time student/bum.

Not liking to be a burden on family, I rented out a room from my Ranger buddy, Dirty Dick, and commuted from Moreno Valley to Long Beach five days a week for school for a month. I also climbed the M Trail on Box Springs Mountain four times that month as I worked out to rebuild the beastly body I lost in those four months of travel and debauchery.

IG: raulfelix275

By April, I got a room to rent at my two best fiends from high school, K-Dawg and Sleazy-E, house in Santa Ana. Determined to do well as a student, I kept myself disciplined about my study habits and ended up with a 3.6 GPA; the highest my dumb ass has ever had. I stayed true to my roots as a womanizer and dated various assortments of white chicks, Latina’s, and cougars.

As spring gave way to summer, I found myself needing a job again to see me through until fall. I wasn’t getting those sweet ol’ GI Bill bucks. With a ridiculous amount of foot work, frustration, dry holes, and following up on every lead I came across, I got myself a bartending job at an Italian restaurant in Newport Beach and a Mexican restaurant in Santa Ana. Thus putting into my pocket that extra bit of cash I needed. Bartending is something I enjoy psychologically because it gives me a social life outside of the my normal group of friends. Plus, I’m a pimp as fuck bartender.

During the fall semester, I moved out of K-Dawg’s and Sleazy-E’s spot and got my own studio apartment in Long Beach. While I loved living with them, there is nothing like having a little box to call your own. It took me longer to create a firm foothold in California than I expected, but I am happy to be back in my hood.

While it’s always in the back of my mind, my writing waned dramatically this year. No real excuses other than it wasn’t a priority for me.

“There’s nothing to stop a man from writing
unless that man stops himself.
If a man truly desires to write,
then he will.
Rejection and ridicule will only strengthen him.
and the longer he is held back
the stronger he will become,
like a mass of rising
water against a dam.”
-Charles Bukowski

Yet, the yearning for artistic expression builds up inside of me. When I started writing this blog in March of 2012, I was a twenty-five year-old security contractor in Israel. I had no idea where it was going to lead when I started it.

It has been something that has followed me through the different lives I’ve lived since then.

It has helped keep my sanity and make sense of the challenges I’ve faced professionally and personally as I tried to make it in this world.

It has helped me develop and grow not only as a man, but as a human being.

It has given me something to constantly work on and improve upon.

It has helped keep me accountable for my actions and values.

The beauty of writing is that as you evolve, it evolves. There is no finish line, only the next line. That is both daunting and liberating. Daunting because it never ends. Liberating because your skills have limitless potential. The potential is the fuel that will see you through the drudgery of it all. Even then, you must continue to prove yourself time and again.

Thank you, dear reader, for your support throughout years. I look forward to writing more of my heartwarmingly-fucked up pieces that you’ve come to hate and adore. Onward to 2018!

~Raul Felix

Read: 30 Things I Learned By Age 30
Read: Onward to 2016!
Read: Why Young Men Should Become Cougar Slayers

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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20 Random Observations On Women’s Dating Profiles (From An Asshole’s Perspective)

OKC

Online dating has become an invaluable tool for both men and women to meet the love of their life (or night). It gives you the ability to come into contact with people you would have never formed a connection with otherwise. It has started many good relationships and no-strings-attached hook-ups. But patterns emerge just like with any other form of social interaction, and being the over-observant asshole that I am, I notice and call them out.

1. When chicks post pictures of their kid(s) on their profile, I just think: “Thanks for making my fantasy of me skull-fucking your mouth awkward, bitch.”

2. Despite what SJWs would like you to believe, white people aren’t the most racist people in the world. That title belongs to Asians. Asians hate and spit on other Asians for not being the right type of Asian, especially if they’re one of the lower-class dark-skinned ones. If an Asian woman were to bring home the wrong type of man, she would bring great shame upon her family. Unless you’re also Asian, 90% of them will never respond to you. Most of the remaining ones will only date you if you are white because you’re the least offensive to their kin.

3. When you find a dime piece with expertly applied makeup, huge fake breasts, an amazing ass, and whose written summary seems to have everything you want, it’s probably a transsexual. Total fucking boner-killer. The hot tranny prove that men are better than women at everything, including being women.

4. An overabundance of chicks have “taco” in their screen name, meaning they either love Mexican food or are trying to give you a not-so-subtle sexual innuendo about her vagina. If that’s the case, she wants you to send her a highly sexual message about giving her a few squirts of your man-sauce to add some flavor and texture to her taco. Or she’s bisexual (fuck yeah!) or lesbian (fuck!).

5. It’s very disheartening to start a conversation with a chick you totally click with and who has everything you want and desire in a woman, then finding out she has a two-year-old kid. Fuck that shit. No pussy is worth the monetary, emotional, and temporal cost of dealing with someone else’s brood. Peace out! Wish you the best, though =).

6. “My babies and I are a package deal.” Nope! *Tosses package off the side of the freeway*.

7. You can always tell a chick is fat and trying to hide it if all her pictures are taken from an extreme angle.

8. I never cared for Trump and didn’t vote for him. Yet whenever a chick puts on her dating profile “If you voted for Trump, don’t message me,” I want to build a time machine, go back in time, commit voter fraud, and vote for him 100 times out of spite.

9. Putting “I’m a feminist” on a dating profile is the chick equivalent of a dude posting a shirtless bathroom selfie. Thanks for the fair warning that you’re a huge fucking douchebag, though.

10. I don’t give a fuck about your Myers-Briggs personality type. No, I’m not going to look up what ENFJ means. No, I’m not going to take that stupid test. No, I’m not curious about what it says about me.

11. It sucks wasting one your free “likes” on Tinder on an ugly/fat chick.

12. If it’s a group picture, she’s probably the fat chick.

13. If all her pictures are professional pictures, she’s a bot.

14. “I have a degree in *insert minority group* studies” means “I have a shit ton of student loans and little to no means of paying them off. In addition, you will have to walk on eggshells around me about any racial subject whatsoever lest I give you a lecture about #checkingyourprivilege.”

15. Most overused phrase: “If you’ll be my Clyde, I’ll be your Bonnie.”

16. If my Bumble experience has taught me anything, it’s that most chicks suck at starting conversations. I don’t know how many times I’ve read on profiles on other sites to say something more interesting than “Hi,” or “What’s up,” yet nearly every single one of them has started a conversation with me that way.

17. “I’m not here for a hook-up” translates to “I’m totally here for a hook-up but I don’t want to look like a hoe.”

18. On OKCupid, some chicks think it’s an endearing quality to write an entire novel pertaining to their life story. They write out every single fucking detail in such a fashion that it leaves no way a reasonable stranger could ask anything without feeling redundant. Save that shit for your whack-ass Tumblr.

19. Second most overused phrase: “I probably only liked you for your dog.”

20. Even if you meet all the criteria in their little listicle of what they want in a man, there’s a 75% chance she’ll still won’t respond.

~Raul Felix

Read: I’d Pee in Her Butt
Read: Why Young Men Should Become Cougar Slayers
Read: Where Are My Whores?

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His Mind Is A Whirlwind Of Thoughts

IG: raulfelix275

He mounts his motorcycle,
Blood heavy with alcohol and weed.
He has no care for the stupidity of his actions.
His mind has gone to a dark place.
He wonders about the point of it all.
Whether it will be better to just let go.

He races down the freeway,
Zooming in between cars,
Keeping his iron steed steady.

His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts.
His usual sweet, friendly, and joyful demeanor,
Drowned in whiskey.
Anger, hatred, frustration, jealousy, rage,
Pain, loss, heartbreak, sadness,
Now reign supreme over all his emotions.
The darkness he buries deep inside,
Is now maliciously intent on destroying him.

The wind blows the tears from his face.
At the top of his lungs he curses those who have wronged him,
The events which have left permanent scars on his heart and soul,
He raises his left hand up and flips the world the bird.
He is free.

He pulls up to his home,
Kicks down the kick stand, dismounts, and lovingly caresses her.
There are no ghastly consequences tonight for his recklessness.
“Thanks for getting me home alive, babe,” he says to his beauty.
His temperament is cooled by her.
He lies down on his bed and passes out.

~Raul Felix

Read: In A Park On The Shores Of Lake Michigan
Read: Shards Of Broken Glass Scattered On The Kitchen Floor
Read: Another Night Wasted Getting Wasted

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What Your Choice Of Military Branch Says About You!

SrA Jordyn Fetter

Deciding to join the military is one of the most demanding commitments a person can make next to getting married. Even marriage has the option of divorce if you and your spouse should grow disillusioned with one another. But, the She-Beast that is the military will smother you in her clutches long after the honeymoon period has ended.

When you’re shopping around, trying to figure out which branch will be pounding its green weenie into your ass for the next X years, keep in mind that just like an astrological sign can tell you everything you will ever need to know about a person, so does their choice of military service.

United States Army

SGT Steven Galimore

You really didn’t want to join the Navy like some homo and you may have a petty criminal past. Nothing too serious, but back on the block people didn’t call you Slicky Ricky for nothing. One night while lying in bed after banging your mediocre looking girlfriend you begin to contemplate the direction of your life. Realizing that it’s heading nowhere and fast, you say to yourself, “Fuck it! I’m joining the Marines!” After scoring barely above mentally retarded on your ASVAB and revealing your less than desirable past to a Marine recruiter, you’re promptly laughed out the office. Well, you’re in luck low-speed, high-drag; the Army recruiting station is right next door.

With the ability to draw from its vast hordes of manpower and capabilities, the Army is the all-powerful steam roller of the armed services. While the Marine Corps is looking for a few good men, the Army is content with a shit ton of OK ones. Outside of the Special Operations community, this leads to a relaxed attitude about what it takes to be a barrel-chested freedom fighter. If you’re able to show up at the right place, right time, and in the right uniform, you are half way to winning Soldier of the Year.

United States Marine Corps

CPL Aaron Patterson

There is no gentle way to say this Devil Dog, you drank the Semper Fi flavored Kool-Aid. At some point in your youthful years you were brainwashed by the USMC propaganda machine or your old man into believing that joining any other branch of the service makes you a big ol’ blubbering pussy. You were bamboozled into believing that utilizing subpar equipment, having lower chances at promotion, and working in an environment full of overzealous non-commissioned officers who are sticklers for the rules, equates to being a better tuned killing machine.

Fuck it, though. The misery of your existence is a point of pride for you. It makes you feel like you’ve earned the title of Marine. Something you will surely brag about whenever there is a few minute lull in conversation in any situation whatsoever. Everyone knows you’re the best, or else they’ll die like the rest. As substantial proof, you have those killer Class-A’s that get’s bitches panties drenched.

United States Navy

PO3 William McCann

You’re probably a homosexual. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Don’t ask, don’t tell was repealed by the Obama administration, so you can at last be out and proud with your flamboyant gay ol’ self. We always had our sneaking suspicions of what you did while at sea, sailor boy. No worries seaman, we all knew you were in the closet and working up the courage to come out to us. We’ve always loved and supported you, even if you do choose to live an alternative lifestyle. Hugs!

The Navy is the service for those who want to leave their shitty lives behind to see the world, but want to minimize their chances of dying in the process. While there are some jobs in the Navy that does its share of ground-pounding, the lion’s share of combat casualties in modern warfare are taken by the Army and Marine Corps. That makes it the optimal choice for a service member who wants all the perks and benefits of being in the armed services without having to do anything other than suck cock.

United States Air Force

SrA Nick Emerick

You know what’s pretty fucking sweet? Driving into work, while drinking a hot cup of joe, listening to some boom-boom-I-beat-my-wife country music as you pass a bunch of soldiers from the nearby Army base doing a 12-mile ruck march. Then you walk into your office, say, ‘Good morning’ to your superior using their first name, go on a brisk 2 mile run, and then go about your daily tasks.

See, for an Airman, military service is not about having a job that will impress people or requires physically taxing work. You don’t really care about proving how hard and tough you are. Your life back home didn’t suck too badly and you really didn’t want your life in the military to suck either. If you’re honest with yourself, you are kind of a nerd and freezing or sweating your dick off doesn’t seem too appealing to you. Now learning some technical skill that will give you good job prospects in the real world, that’s what drew you into the service. Plus, Air Force chicks tend to be the hottest from all of the branches and one may even become your girlfriend/wife. Until you find out she has been banging an Army Ranger in the Task Force she was attached to while deployed because she wanted a real man.

United States Coast Guard

PO3 Andrew Barresi

No one knows or cares about you. You are like that kid in high school who committed suicide and has a quarter page memorial in black and white in the back of the year book, but no one remembers who you are. Thanks for your service, I guess.

~Raul Felix

Read: 5 People You Will Meet In The Army
Read: 3 Things People Who Served In The Military Do That Make Them Look Like Tools
Read: Army Rangers Talk About The Times Their Words Have Shocked Civilians

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Welcome To Arlington, Sergeant Gallegos

Rachel Larue

The light of the sun blinds me, my ears are ringing, and I’m lying on the ground. My eyes begin to focus, the ringing fades, and I see a hand reach out for me and I grasp it. It pulls me up to my feet.

“Welcome to Arlington, Sergeant Gallegos,” he says. He’s wearing an olive drab Army uniform with Master Sergeant rank on his sleeve.

“Uh…Arlington Master Sergeant?” I respond. I swivel my head about, noticing the rows upon rows of symmetrical white headstones.

“Yes, in case you haven’t figured it out—you’re dead,” he says sharply. “By the way, we don’t use rank anymore in the afterlife. I’m Sam,” he says, reaching out and shaking my hand.

“Tony,” I smile. “Dead? Huh? How did I die?”

“In the most glorious of all ways—combat,” he laughs.

“What? I don’t remember getting into a firefight recently.”

“What’s your last memory?”

“Well…I had just stepped off of a Stryker and walked a couple blocks toward our objective and…”

“BOOM!” he bellows. “I-E-fucking-D, motherfucker! And now you’re here with the rest of us KIAs.”

“Fucking A. But my body feels fine.” I begin to check myself out, looking for any injuries and notice that I’m still wearing my uniform and body armor.

“Well, this is the afterlife; of course your body is fine,” he laughs.

“Did any of my men get killed, too?”

“No, you’re the only one who bit it. Sherman and Tran got hurt, but not too bad. Don’t worry, they’re fine.”

“Damn…well at least there’s that,” I sigh.

“Now see over there?” Sam points to a funeral procession. “Your earthly body is right there…or what’s left of it, anyway. It ain’t a pretty sight.”

“That’s my funeral?” I see a group of people, some in black, others in Army Class-A uniforms in front of a casket with an American flag draped over it.

“Yes,” he responds.

I run toward it and see a bunch of familiar faces: my wife, two daughters, mama, friends, and a few men from my unit.

“My god, dear god…my love! My love! Sweet Pea and Cookie! Mama! Mama!” I try to grab ahold of my wife, but I pass through her. I attempt the same with my mama and pass through again. I fall to my knees and begin to cry. “They can’t see me, can they?”

Sam puts his hand on my shoulder. “Roger.”

Cookie, my youngest at age seven, sits on my mama’s lap, crying into her chest. My mama’s holding her close, releasing a storm of tears. My eleven-year-old, Sweet Pea, sits next to my wife, holding her hand tightly, head on her shoulder. My wife’s attempting to hold her composure, yet some tears overpower her and pour down her face.

“Ready, aim, fire,” orders a staff sergeant to the seven soldiers of the rifle party. The first volley is fired.

“Ready, aim, fire.”

“Ready, aim, fire.”

“Present arms,” every man in uniform salutes. “Taps” begins to play.

The casket party folds the flag into a triangle. One of the men walks it over to my family, takes a knee, and presents it to my wife.

“Ma’am, this flag is presented to you on behalf of a grateful nation for the honorable and faithful service displayed by your husband, Sergeant First Class Antonio Gallegos,” he says to her, then stands at attention and salutes her.

The cemetery workers finish shoveling dirt over my grave. My headstone looms.

Antonio Leonard
Gallegos
SFC
US Army
Apr 20 1977
May 4 2009
Bronze Star
Purple Heart
Operation
Iraqi Freedom

My wife, mama, and daughters are alone. I stand right next to them, placing my hands on my loves’ shoulders. Even if I couldn’t feel the warmth of her skin nor she mine, I still felt connected to her. My wife hugs my headstone, caressing the engraving of my name, and giving it a kiss on top.

My dearest Carrie…the love of my life…I’m sorry…

My daughters are on their knees. “Papa, papa…we love you. We love you. Don’t go, don’t go.”

Sweet Pea and Cookie…you two are my light…I wish I didn’t have to…

My mama stands there, running her fingers through my daughters’ hair. “You were my angel, my most precious possession, my gift from God. I’ll miss you, mi niño.”

Mama…you taught me how to be a good man…I love you…

I watch them in silence, wishing I could feel their tender embrace once more. Wishing that I had more time with them. Wishing I wasn’t dead.

They begin to leave and I follow.

“Sorry Tony, but you can’t go with them,” Sam says gently.

“Like hell I can’t.” I begin to sprint after them, yet as fast as I move my feet, I make no progress. I’m running in place as they are getting further and further away from me. “Damn it! What is this?”

“You’re dead, Tony,” Sam reminds me. “You may no longer go among the living. That’s not your place anymore. This is the afterlife and I’m here to help you on this journey.”

I give up running, watching my kin until they disappear. Goodbye my life. I wipe the tears from my face, turn around, and face my fate. “So now what?”

“Follow me,” he says, and we begin walking deeper into Arlington through a forest of headstones.

“So you said, us KIAs…that means you were killed in action also?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“What war?”

“Vietnam.”

“Holy shit. What was that like?”

“I couldn’t really tell you. I was shot in the forehead jumping out of a Huey on my first mission,” he says with a smirk.

“But you have Master Sergeant rank on. So you had to been in the Army a while.”

“Oh yeah, seventeen long years. I was also in the Korean War. Made it through a whole year’s deployment in that frozen hellhole without a scratch. Then did the whole peacetime Army thing. Those were some wild times, I’ll tell you what. The first couple of months I was in Vietnam, I was doing a damn staff job. So I didn’t leave the wire much. I was waiting for a First Sergeant slot. Then finally got one. I was supposed to take over a company in a few days. So I decided to shadow one of the company’s First Sergeants on a few missions so I knew what shit to expect. Right as we landed on a hot DZ…BAM…bullet right through my fucking skull. Pretty funny, huh?”

I shake my head. “What’s funny about it?”

“Surviving one long bloody suckfest unscathed, just to be snuffed out quickly in the next one. It’s almost poetic.”

“You can only press your luck so many times, I guess. God knows I have. This last one was…”—I pause and count in my head—“my eighth deployment. Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have reenlisted.”

“Well, you did.”

“Yeah, well, I did have a family to support. Plus, the goddamn economy sucks right now. Those reenlistment bonuses were insanely good.”

“Hey, bud, look at the bright side, at least they’ll get your life insurance money now,” Sam remarks.

“Yeah, that’ll hold them over for a good while. But if you want to know the truth, I just fucking loved the job. Even if it sucked at times, I just loved training my men and going to war.”

“So did I, Tony,” Sam pats me on the shoulder.

“Did you leave a family behind, too?”

“Yeah, an ex-wife and a son. She and I were divorced before I even went to Nam, yet she cried hysterically when she found out about my death. She’s still alive and kickin’. Good woman she is. Pretty as a sunset and sweet as honey. My damn foul temper while drinkin’ chased her away.”

“What about your son?”

“He’s a high school teacher somewhere in California. Has a nice family of his own. He was too young to really know who I was.”

“That’s rough, Sam.”

“That’s life and death, brother. The world will keep spinning without either of us. I’ve been dead longer than I was alive. Whatever impact we were meant to leave on the world is done and now we must be spectators to it all.”

Stone stairs leading up to the sky appear over the grass.

“This leads to heaven?”

“Nah…you wouldn’t want to go there right now anyways. Its kind of lame without your family. I’m taking you somewhere way cooler,” he winks.

“Where is that?”

“Valhalla. You ready?” He grins.

“Hell, yeah!”

~Raul Felix

Read: Oh Well, We’re Off To War Again
Read: Eager To Pop My Cherry On The Battlefield
Read: Four Years Of Hell: College V. The Army

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