Category Archives: Writing

28 Things I’ve Learned By Age 28

Posted on by Standard 3

It’s my 28th birthday today and as a writer, I’m obligated to pass on the insightful and not-so-insightful lessons I’ve learned during my short stint on this Earth. While I’m not the epitome of enlightenment whatsoever, I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes, so a few life lessons have made their way through my thick skull. So take heed, young reader, as this late-20-something who knows nothing about life tells you something about life.

1.

Women are not special from men in any way. Some are sweet; some are sour. Some are warm and some are cold. Some are intelligent and some are complete idiots. They can be as kind as saints or as cruel as devils. The right one can bring out the best in you, and the wrong one can destroy you. Figuring out the ones who are genuine and the ones who are completely full of shit is the tricky part.

2.

It’s way better to look broke and have good amount of money in your bank account than to look like a baller and have a negative net worth.

3.

Being all muscle with no mind makes you a slightly smarter and much weaker gorilla. Being all brain and no muscle makes you a weak sack of shit who can’t protect himself from the physical world.

4.

Waking up next to a woman you love deeply is way more fulfilling than fucking a different chick every night of the week.

5.

Sometimes you will give something every last bit of effort and will power you have but will still face a crushing defeat. It’ll hurt you deeply, but you can take pride in the fact you tried when others would have been too afraid.

6.

You don’t have to be your father if he’s a piece of shit. The best thing about him being a piece of shit is that you don’t have to respect him. You don’t have to live up to his expectations or seek his approval. You can be a force of change and end the cycle of shitty fatherhood.

7.

Don’t read books because they’ll make you look like some sort of intellectual. Read them because it’s on a subject matter that interests you and will add to your life in whatever small way.

8.

If you don’t trust your girlfriend to have a girls’ night out and not suck another dude’s cock, then why the fuck are you with her? If she doesn’t respect you, fuck that bitch and move on.

9.

If you live in a First World country, you can truly make something out of yourself if you put in the honest effort. If you look for external forces to blame such as “the man,” your parents, or your surroundings, it’s a sign of your weakness. You can always find a way out. It may not be quick, easy, or pleasant, but there is always a way to put yourself in a better position.

10.

Your coworkers aren’t always your friends. In the Army, you could hang out, talk shit, and be yourself around your coworkers. It’s not like that in the real world.

11.

If you have to get drunk, just drinking beer will keep you out of more trouble than taking shot after shot of hard alcohol.

12.

Your emotions don’t matter. What matters is whether you do your job regardless.

13.

If a chick doesn’t text you back after two attempts, delete her number and move on.

14.

If you’re traveling across the US, pizza with all the toppings on it is the most bang-for-your-buck food you can eat. It’ll keep you full and energized all day long.

15.

Want motivation to be a writer? Look at the first blog post of your current favorite writer. Chances are, they were fucking terrible when they started. The only difference is that they started, put in the effort, and gave themselves time to evolve.

16.

It’s easy to get caught up in the extremes of liberalism and conservatism. It’s easy to think the world is black and white, that things are strictly right or wrong. That’s why it’s simple for the media to manipulate the masses with hysterical headlines and emotionally triggered stories. It takes a lot more to learn the grey side, the enemy’s side, and to realize not everything is so straightforward.

17.

I’ve never smoked cigarettes, but I know two things about them: Everyone who smokes them wants to quit, and a lot of hot chicks smoke them. So hanging out at the smoking section even though you’re not smoking isn’t too bad of an idea.

18.

If you have a fragile ego and can’t take criticism, you’re going to get crushed by real world when you’re starting out as an artist. The world is full of self-important critics and cowards who never had the balls to go after what they want. These types love to dig their teeth and nails into you and tear you apart. They see your failure as their success. Fuck them. Keep your head up, your scrappy attitude on point, and keep moving.

19.

There is more pride working a job that pays you minimum wage than staying at home and being a burden on your family.

20.

It’s better to keep your mouth shut than tell a lie.

21.

Take pictures. You don’t have to post them all up on Instagram or Facebook, but take a picture or two of special events in your life. Chances are they’ll remind you of things you’ve long forgotten about five or ten years down the line.

22.

If you do have to lie, keep your lie as close to the truth as possible. It’s easier to remember that way.

23.

You don’t have to like everyone and everyone doesn’t have to like you. You have to respect their right to exist, but that’s pretty much it.

24.

No woman is worth sacrificing a male best friend over. Chicks come and go; your best friends will be there for you as long as you remain loyal to them.

25.

Not everyone is so quick-witted that they learn on their first fuck-up. I’ve made the same mistakes two, three, twelve times before I actually learned the lesson I needed to learn.

26.

When you say most people do X, most people will think you’re not talking about them.

27.

There is a lot of power in positive male role models. I was lucky that I had this throughout my life, from my stepfather to my football coaches to the noncommissioned officers and officers who mentored me in the Army. They each had their flaws, but I took from each something that I could apply to myself.

28.

Sometimes the person with the biggest balls in the room is a woman.

~Raul Felix
Read more of my writings a Thought Catalog.

Why Should I Write About Her?

Posted on by Standard 5

“Will you write about me?” The question is always on the tip of her tongue. She may not ask it immediately because she doesn’t want to seem like another one of your admirers. She’ll take her time, earn your trust, and maybe win your heart—but she’ll eventually ask it.

You don’t know what to say. You’re barely able to focus on the articles you’re writing, let alone whether this tryst will be something you’ll remember and feel is worth writing about a week, month, or year from now.

Girls all seem special in their own way when they’re in front of you. But the moment of lust eventually passes and only memories remain. That’s the tricky part. What will you remember about her? How her piercing blue eyes and her charming accent made you melt. Or maybe the way her body conformed to yours effortlessly, as if every one of her limbs was custom-made to fit your body. Or how she would visit you at work and wanted you to stick your fingers in her pussy when no one was looking. Maybe it will be how she snorted coke and took shots of whiskey before you fucked. Or the way she made you feel emotionally secure, even on the first night you ever spent with her. Or the way her youthfulness and naivety made you feel grizzled and ancient.

These are the random little things you remember about several of the recent women that passed through your life. Some used you for their own purposes and moved on, others rejected you when you wanted something more, and others seemed to fizzle away with no drama.

“Maybe,” you respond.

You’ve noticed that the women you’ve encountered all wish to be your muse. It feeds their vanity to know that they may be immortalized in one of your essays.

“What will you write?”

“I don’t know.”

That answer always seems to disappoint them, as if you’re supposed to be able to instantly pick sugary prose out from mid-air and assemble a lean, insightful account of this affair. You never know if she will be a footnote in your heart or have her own book.

You barely know her and her true character. She’s a woman and thus skilled in the art of deception. Not all women are liars, but enough of them are that you’ve learned to not fully trust one until she earns it.

She snuggles with you and tells you sweet nothings. She tells you of her life, philosophy, and aspirations. She tells you of her family and friends. She tells you about her job, coworkers, and career goals. She tells you about her ex-boyfriends and how she wants to focus on herself and isn’t ready for a serious relationship right now.

Maybe you’ll write about her. About how you met her. About how you charmed her. About the way she made your heart skip a beat with her beauty. About the conversations you had. About the times you fucked.

More than likely, she’ll be out of your life as quickly as she became part of it, whether it was after a one-night stand or having a several-month fling. Only when she’s out can you truly know if you want to write about her.

You don’t want to write about her. Writing about her will bring back the emotions you started to develop. Writing about her will put you in the state of vulnerability that you recklessly allowed her to see. Writing about her will be a confession of your need for a romantic connection. Writing about her would mean she meant more to you than you did to her. Writing about her will mean she won, and you’re too proud to let that cunt win.

~Raul Felix

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog.

3 Ways To Use Obstacles To Your Advantage

Posted on by Standard Reply

Dreams and aspirations—we all have them, whether you want to be a world-famous writer, a doctor, a captain of industry, or an international playboy. You set off on a journey to fulfill your dreams because you’re a fucking Billy Badass and nothing is going to stand in your way.

Then reality decides to be a dick and stands in your way. Your submission to XoJane gets rejected because it wasn’t angry enough and only mentioned rape culture twice…or you fail your Intro to Biology class…or you can’t even work up the courage to talk to that cute Latina chick. You sit there deflated, wondering how the gods could be so cruel to little special snowflake you.

Luckily for you, Ryan Holiday’s new book The Obstacle Is the Way provides a time-tested formula inspired by the great Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius. It teaches you to not just overcome your obstacles, but to leverage them to your advantage. Drawing from historical examples of people who were way more important than you or I, he separates the book into a series of characteristics, philosophies, and values that a person must have to hopefully join their ranks or at least give it the good ol’ junior-college try. Here are three that stuck out to me.

1. Follow the Process

You’ve got to do something very difficult. Don’t focus on that. Instead break it down into pieces. Simply do what you need to do right now. And do it well. And then move on to the next thing. Follow the process and not the prize.

When we read an enriching novel or an article that makes us think and see things from a new perspective, we are experiencing the fruits of the writer’s extensive labor. We don’t see the process. We don’t see the writer as he reads book after book, learning from his mentors who may have long passed. We don’t see his first attempts of forming an original thought or sentence that is totally unreadable. We don’t see him as he learns the difference between the overreaching of vocabulary and using it in a seamless fashion. We don’t see him as he struggles, staring at the blank screen to formulate his next witty phrase.

By focusing on the little things, the fine details, the nitty-gritty aspects of what you’re trying to accomplish, you make the task much more manageable and feasible. Those little mundane parts—when done right and compounded together over the course of time and constant repetition—will create a road to the grand success of which you dream.

2. Do Your Job, Do It Right

Everything we do matters—whether it’s making smoothies while you save up money or studying for the bar—even after you already achieved that success you sought. Everything is a chance to do and be your best. Only self-absorbed assholes think they are too good for whatever their current station requires.

When I was in 2nd Ranger Battalion, there was the Ranger standard that must always be met or you would be kicked out and sent to the big Army. It governed our lives: how we conducted and trained for combat, physical fitness, appearance, and acceptable behavior. In every aspect of being a Ranger, you were expected to do your job with a high level of motivation, competence, attention to detail, and eagerness to improve. It didn’t matter if you were going on a direct-action raid, doing a live-fire exercise, jumping out of an airplane, cleaning the barracks, policing up brass, mowing the quad’s lawn, fast-roping out of a helicopter, or doing your morning physical training session. Your ass better be giving it your all, or you were going to get your balls crushed.

I was a mediocre Ranger who barely survived being in battalion; nothing exceptional compared to some of the no-shit legendary men with whom I got to serve. But it instilled a strong work ethic in me. Taking pride in doing even the simplest jobs right—however trivial, mundane, and unglamorous they are—prepares you to take on the larger and more glamorous tasks when they are set before you.

3. Build Your Inner Citadel

No one is born a gladiator. No one is born with an Inner Citadel. If we’re going to succeed in achieving our goals despite the obstacles that may come, the strength in will must be built.

The world doesn’t give a fuck if you succeed or not. In fact, the world wants you to fail. If you want to attempt anything grand and not live a life of quiet desperation like so many poor souls, it will require you to be physically and mentally tough. Neither one of these attributes is built overnight.

Physical strength and toughness will better prepare you to deal with the obstacles life places in front of you than if you are scrawny or fat. Many “intellectual” douchebags who look down on the physically fit fail to see that the discipline needed to get to that point helps strengthen the mind and will.

Mental toughness will let you handle and overcome any obstacles that seek to wage psychological warfare on you. It gives you the capacity to think through them and find solutions. It gives you the ability to face down the naysayers, the haters, and the nonbelievers. It will help you say, “Fuck you” to them and drive on.

You need to change your mindset in how you view obstacles. They aren’t always negative; they can bring opportunity if you’re bright enough. This book will help you forge a mind that not only can power through them but can also squeeze out every drop of benefit from them.

~Raul Felix

You can read more of my articles on Thought Catalog

Onward to 2014

Posted on by Standard 5

With each passing New Years one tries to remember where they were at that time the previous year. For some, they were brighter times and for others, they were darker times. Life is that way. You’re on top of the world one minute, and sucking cock for crack the next. The world is tough, but it’s not an invincible opponent. With the right attitude, tons of hard work, and a little bit of luck, you can always change the tides of your life.

2013 was a weird year for me. I hit a new low in some areas of my life and hit new highs in others. The year started out rough: I got drunk as fuck on New Year’s Eve and ended up losing my iPhone. In my inebriated state of mind, I came to the conclusion that a group of four Russian dudes stole it from me, and I got aggressive with them. I got my ass kicked by all four of them. I don’t remember if I even got a punch in, but I had a swollen cheek, elbow, and twisted ankle for a good week. Not only did that occur, but I drank so much that next day I showed up one hour late to work reeking of booze. My team leader, being the good man he is, covered for me. Being the big piece of shit I am, I fucked up once again, overslept the next day and was late for work. Hence, I got fired from my good paying job in Israel.

Afterwards, I backpacked around Western Europe randomly for a month and headed back to the United States after a year and a half of being gone to start a new chapter in my life. What would that chapter entail was a question that lingered in my mind as I spent a good six months smoking weed, drinking, working 12 hours a week, playing video games, working out on occasion, writing on occasion, and not having any real responsibilities. It’s amazing what a lazy, worthless creature a man is capable of becoming when he doesn’t know what the next step in his life will be.

I rode my motorcycle almost a thousand miles to my Mexican hometown of Cuidad Obregon, Sonora to spend a week camping with the rest of Felix clan. While I had a great time, I was also reminded of where I came from and why my family left that worthless, corrupt country that contains no future for anyone of true ambition.

The long-distance, compounded by other issues we had, killed my year and a half relationship with my beautiful Israeli girlfriend. I later became smitten by another chick who I met through my blog and in turn, had my heart crushed by her. Basically, my love life was nothing deeper than a string of one night stands that I had with girls who I met through my bouncer job.

While I was deprived of any form of romantic love, I was abundantly blessed with real friendships. I became room mates with my best friend, Sleazy-E, few other awesome guys, and hung out with all my old high school friends. I reconnected with some of my Ranger buddies from my Army days and was introduced to a shit-ton of current and former Rangers that I now consider my friends. I started working at two bars where I genuinely enjoy talking to and seeing my co-workers. I’ve had fans of my writing reach out to me, some have become close friends that I fully trust and others, potential lovers.

When I started working as a bouncer, I had a goal of becoming a bartender. Since I am a not a chick with big tits or a pretty, blue eyed white boy with a smile that melts girls’ hearts, it was going to be a tough gig to get. I made it known what my goals were. I worked hard, figured out how to pick up chicks using bouncer game, and threw the occasional drunk out the bar. In turn, I was recommended to work at another bar as a bar-back/bouncer and now am being trained to bartend. I got an opportunity that people wait two or three years for in eight months and now am making a decent amount of money because of it.

My writing has truly taken off. I’ve had articles featured on Return of Kings, Thought Catalog, and Sass & Balderdash. I have become one of the most liked and most hated writers on Thought Catalog. My best piece to date, The Division of Generation Y, went viral and was shared on Facebook 50,000 + times and has been viewed hundreds of thousands of times. It has solidified and given legitimacy to my writing and my writing style. It has given me a taste of what success feels like and what kinds of opportunities are presented when I open my heart, mind, and soul to the world.

There was a lull in my writings after that piece. I was overwhelmed by the success of it. I had no idea what I could write that would top it, or even at least come close to matching it. I would begin to write a new piece, fully confident it was going to be another smash hit, then I would lose traction half way through. Nothing seemed to come together the way I wanted it. With that, my consistency suffered and I wasted two months with each day feeling guilt-ridden because I hadn’t produced another groundbreaking piece.

As much as those fucking bitch-made haters on Thought Catalog wish it had, quitting has never crossed my mind. Self-doubt has. Self-loathing has. Quitting? Fuck you! Surrender is not a Ranger word, mother fuckers.

In this journey in the writing world, I have discovered that I truly have a writing talent and a voice that can’t be replicated. It’s something that no one can, nor will ever take away from me because I possess two very important traits: Emotional toughness and balls. I’m emotionally tough enough to take the harsh criticisms, the trolls, family members telling me they don’t like what I write, people cutting me out of their lives because of my written work, the dead ends, the long lonely nights in front of the screen, and the silence when what I write doesn’t resonate with anybody. I have the balls to go after my dreams, write under my real name, put myself out there, take rejection, hatred, and still come on out top with sweat on my brow and a shit-eating grin.

The only thing that can and has been holding me back is myself. Yes, I write, but I’ve been treating my writing with a hobbyist work ethic. It has invigorated me how much I have accomplished with just that effort, and it has deflated me how much opportunity I have missed out on by treating it like a hobby. I’m in a perfect situation in my life to make a big move, and I have decided on it; I’m treating my writing with a professional work ethic.

2012 was the year I started this blog, but I was sporadic. In 2013 I took it more seriously and put my toes in the waters, but I wasn’t as intense as I should have been. 2014, is the year I fully dive in and sink or swim. I’m nervous. I’m excited. I’m scared. I’m overjoyed combined with a host of other conflicting emotions. Just like being a soldier, it doesn’t matter what you feel, as long as you do your job. Trust me, I’m going to do my job with every bit of my being, and it will be a job well done. In life, your biggest enemy isn’t the world, your haters, your environment, or the nay sayers; your biggest enemy is yourself. Once you conquer yourself, you can conquer anything.

~Raul Felix

Disappearance

Posted on by Standard 4

I do my best to text
with perfect grammar
It’s my little way
I distinguish myself

I know you talk to other boys
I talk to other girls
Why shouldn’t you?
I just met you last weekend

There is no reason
for you to feel any sense of
loyalty to me
and I to you

When we text
I make sure not to respond
Too quickly or earnestly
To create a masquerade of busyness

I offer to take you for a drink
You accept
We make plans to meet
at a place on Main Street

That morning I awake
to a text from you
you have to cancel
we decide to reschedule

I make new plans for the night
I may have met someone new
The weekend passes by
I may have met someone new

“Hey you!” I text
No response. A few days pass
I offer to take you for a drink
No response

You may have lost interest
You may have found someone else
You may have broken your phone
You may have died

I’ll never know
I delete your number
I’m already working on
someone I may have met

~Raul Felix

“Let me see some more of your stupid poetry!” Whatever, dick: Empty Chair

Into the Fray

Posted on by Standard 15

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
-Theodore Roosevelt

The past couple weeks I was fortunate enough to get a few select pieces of my work featured on Thought Catalog. With that, came the epiphany that I was writing in a secure bubble. Up to this point, most of my page views came from people who were on my Facebook, word of mouth, or people who I handed my business card to randomly. While I did get a tiny bit of sporadic haters, most of my feedback had been positive and constructive. All that changed when I exposed my misogynistic, sexist, racist, and apparently, homophobic writings to the legions of Thought Catalog readers.

While I pride myself on my rhino skin and ability take criticism like a man, I was surprised at the intense level of hatred I got towards my writings. Then as my ex-girlfriend “Little Ruskie” said to me, “You do have a rather annoying attitude towards women and call them sluts. You should expect it.” She was right. If I was going to continue to write in my aggressive, chauvinistic style, then I needed to be able to take push back from those who suffer from sand in the vagina syndrome.

I say it was a 60/30/10 split in the type of comments I got. 60% of the commenters went into a fervor intently aimed at ripping me apart because of the indignation I lashed out on women and racial issues. Some of the responses were simple as, “you are a disgusting excuse for a man,” or “Raul Felix is a second rate Tucker Max wanna be.” While other’s went rather in-depth about how I was wrong about the points I’ve made and that I’m nothing more than a misogynist, sexist, racist, and a terrible writer. Those comments clearly lacked thought in my opinion and I responded to them in a sarcastic manner because I thought it would be funny.

SC1

The 30% were more well thought out comments that sometimes agreed with me somewhat or disagreed with me completely but brought some semblance of intelligence to the discussion. With those, I responded with the utmost respect. I’m always eager to learn, improve, and see things from another’s perspective, especially about things that I write. I had a great time having some rather insightful conversation with those people who took time to not be trolls.

10% were people who supported me, agreed with what I said, and found it humorous. I must say, I did enjoy this a lot and it was a good ego boost (like I need one) to know there are people who took what I said for what it was: satire and humor. These are the readers who motivate me to keep writing because I don’t ever want to disappoint them. I’m very thankful for their support and some of them even stood up for me in the comment section, which totally made me feel like a special little snowflake.

This is just the beginning. Despite all the negativity, no amount of hate is ever going to cause me to quit going after my dream. My dream is to be a writer, write on a professional level, and eventually evolve into one of the best wordsmiths of my generation. I have an opportunity and I’m not going to let a few jabs at my ego stop me. I feel like a young man, who has grown up his entire life in the safety of the suburbs, where people were cordial and supportive, venturing out into the big city for the first time on his own. Now, as I take my first steps into the cold, heartless city that is the writing world on a grander scale, I keep my head up and my scrappy attitude on point. I’m charging into the fray that is being a writer on a big site. It’s a place where people are more than eager to tear you down, spit on you, nit-pick every single one of your mistakes, and hope for your failure. A place where very few are your friends and most will find a reason to hate you no matter what. A place where they see your failure as a victory for themselves. Its place where you have to be strong to make it and if you’re weak, you’re going to get eviscerated.

I have a message for those who seek to see me quit: it’s not going to happen. I’m not a pussy who quivers and cries to mama when the world knocks me down. I’m not a dreamer who has these grand plans, but takes no measurable steps to achieve them. I’m not a man who talks shit, but is unable to take it return. I’ll tell you what I am. I’m a man who writes under his real name and is going after what he wants in life and isn’t afraid to tell you what he wants, feels, or thinks. I’m a man willing and putting in the hard work and long hours needed to make it in this world. I’m a man who is ready to put up with rejection, abuse, and make the sacrifices necessary in order to meet his goals. I’m a man you can’t keep down no matter how much you want to or how many of you there are. Most importantly, I am writer, whether you like it or not. I’m tapping away at the keyboard right now because I have the intestinal fortitude required to do what so many claim they are able to, but so few are actually willing to. Surrendering is not an option for me and I will be dead before I do. When I do die, whether I am world famous or an obscurity, I will have no regrets, because I went for it and didn’t look back.

~Raul Felix

“You motivate me! What else you got?” Taking The Hits

For The Women

Posted on by Standard 9

“If there hadn’t been women we’d still be squatting in a cave eating raw meat, because we made civilization in order to impress our girlfriends.”
-Orson Welles

Behind every form of art composed by a man there is an ulterior motive. Artistic expression is important and good for the soul, but what a man is truly trying to do is attract the attention of higher quality woman than he would have other wise. I trudge forward each day, not only because I know this what I want to do with my life on a professional level, but because as an added benefit, my little artsy fartsyness attracts the attention and forms a connection with women I wouldn’t have otherwise.

Successful and ambitious men are valued higher to women than not-so-successful and slothful ones. The more success a man gains throughout his lifetime, the more value he has to prospective women. The quantity and quality of his options increases dramatically. The driving force behind everything we do as men is to get more and better pussy, plain and simple. John Mayer can fuck at least 80% of the women who go to his concerts. Same holds true of Tucker Max with women who go to his book signings and Ray Lewis with women who are Baltimore Raven fans.

I’m not a fully successful man yet. I have to work my ass off for every piece of pussy I get. I get rejected by 90-95% of the women I approach. Women don’t just offer themselves up to me. I have to play the game like everyone else. A game where women have the distinct advantage because all they have to do is dress up slutty, show some cleavage, not be total repulsive freaks, keep their cuntish attitudes to a minimum, and they’ll have men hitting on them and offering to buy them drinks.

I play it hard. I have to say the right thing to peak her interest, I have to have the look she is attracted to, she has to be in the right mood to be hit on, and her friends have to not be cock blockers who will box me out. Yes, you girls know exactly what the fuck I am talking about. That little box out move you pull where you grab your friend, have her dance or talk close to you, put your backs towards the guy, then ignore him completely and act aloof while averting eye contact. You’re not sly, but whatever you got to do to keep creepers away right?

How important is success value? I’ll share with you a short tale. I was home on leave just freshly back from a deployment and went to a bar on Main Street, Huntington Beach. I started talking to this cute blonde girl and totally dropped the I’m an Army Ranger and freshly back from combat bomb in an effort to get her panties wet. It worked. She was digging me, rubbing up on me, and laughing at my shitty jokes. Things were going well. Then, her cunt of a friend strolls up to her and says something about how she met some guys who were defensive linemen for the University of Southern California. The chick grabs the blonde’s hand and took her away easily. Guess who banged the blonde and who went home to jerk off using his own tears as lubrication?

I can’t hate on those guys. They worked hard to become defensive players who were good enough to play at the college level. She obviously thought it was more impressive that they were college football players than the fact that I was a veteran. She was most likely just pumped and dumped by them any ways. The lesson is learned: Excelling at a form of entertainment makes women go after you and puts you in a better position to have your pick to use and discard them as you wish, and have your choice of the highest quality ones to make your significant other.

Why does a man play music? Yes, to express himself, but also because it makes the groupies in the front row privates tingle. Why does he paint a painting? Cause those artsy chicks dig it and will suck his cock. Why does he write? Because women who love his writing will write to him and offer their bodies. Even a man as ugly as Charles Bukowski had lovely women half his age clamoring to be pounded by him.

I don’t have athletic, musical, or painting talent. I’m not the smoothest talker and while I’m nice looking, I’m not great looking. However, I have writing talent. This is the place where I turn the tables in my favor. Day by day I hone myself. I’m obscure, I’m a nobody, and it’s going to be that way for a while. As I build myself, I’ll start getting messages from female fans who want to be more than just fans. It will be a random one here and there at first. Then a few more and a couple of chicks offering to do a threesome. Until, one day, I hit the big time and I’ll have more sexual offers thrown at me than I can handle. Then I’ll start to wonder if these women actually like me for the real me or my image, money, and fame. I’ll then write a post about how women are gold digging bitches and how I wish I could find a good girl to be with like the type who liked me when I was a nobody.

Those days are far ahead. Meanwhile, I’ll keep my scrappy and hungry attitude. Roll your eyes now, but one day, the words I write, will win over the hearts of the best of you.

P.S. As for why women and homosexual men create art, I don’t fucking know. I’m neither one of those.

~Raul Felix

If you’re not the best, you may be the rest: I’d Pee in Her Butt

I’m Sorry, I Thought This Was America!

Posted on by Standard 8

My blog has had the distinguished honor of getting flagged as mature by WordPress. I guess when you write about dolphin fucking and whores with stinky vaginas, it’s to be expected. Basically, what this means is that none of my posts are going to be on the WordPress main page and I’m never going to be eligible to be Freshly Pressed. Which I hear is really good at driving traffic to your blog. I’m not going to have other wayward bloggers find my site by accident, not through WordPress Reader anyways.

Now there are two ways a person can handle this: One is to bitch and moan about how unfair it is. Blame it on stupid fellow bloggers who reported you and call WordPress a bunch of commie faggots who are censoring free speech like some shit out of 1984.

RandyMarshAmerica

Another, slightly more dignified approach, is to take responsibility for the things one says. You have the right to say what you wish, but there are repercussions for it. My writing style is still evolving, but right now, I like to deem it as eloquently vulgar. I mix a lot of offensive language with a couple of hundred dollar words and then trim it down. That means that I turn off a lot of potential readers that would have liked me otherwise, had I toned it down a notch. I believe in my current state, if I tone it down a notch, my writing would lose some of the edge that makes it distinguished and truly mine.

This is a little bit of a set back, but fuck it, it’s just another challenge to over come and get my stupid little Mexican brain thinking of how to promote myself through other avenues. It will force me to seek more writing opportunities on other sites so I can drive traffic here and gain ground with new people reading my material. As of right now, I have 52 followers, a platoon sized element of people willing to read what I have to say. They subscribed because they read something they liked and wanted more. I’m grateful for the opportunity to be able to give it to them.

The only way one can become a good writer is by staying true to themselves and what they are and to what they represent. If you try to please everybody, you please no one. I’m not writing to please everyone, but rather, to please the small niche of people who will think my writing is worth something. So, WordPress, you can keep that little adorable Freshly Pressed trophy, I’ll earn my followers through hard work and tenacity.

~Raul Felix

Read: What It Is To Write

What It Is To Write

Posted on by Standard 7

Writing is an individual event. One must have the motivation and tenacity to sit down in front of their laptop consistently and face the dreaded blank screen. Hoping the words your fingertips pound out will actually form something comprehensible. And if they form something comprehensible, will it actually be something that someone will want to read? And if it’s something someone will want to read, will what you attempt to convey be what they perceive? These are the questions that a writer asks himself when he sits down to write whatever piece he is working on.

Like any art, one must be willing to dredge through the bitter loneliness. No one sees your struggle to churn out that silly anecdote, philosophical rant, or witty observation. No one cares if it took you thirty minutes or six hours to piece together those 1800 words they read in three minutes. No one will come up to you in the coffee shop and ask you what you’re writing about and eagerly listen.

You must take full responsibility for the effort you put in. No one is going to call you before you go to sleep and ask you how many words you wrote today or how you better get your ass in gear and work on your new post. No one is going to yell in your ear and tell you to write more and write faster. No one, really, is thinking about what you’re doing to hone your craft. They’re too busy with their own lives and worries.

Its up to you. Rare is the parent who wishes their kid to be a writer, as opposed to a doctor or engineer. Rare is the employer, who cares about your ability to write whimsical tales as opposed to having the proper skills for the job. Rare is the friend who is willing to help you through the muck that are rough drafts. Rarely will anybody tell you that writing is what you should do instead of using that energy elsewhere.

Writing is a cruel art. Cruel because it teases your mind when it’s unable to grasp the proper words or idea’s to pour onto a piece. Cruel because once you finally grasps those words for that sentence, the next sentence is placed in front you. One’s mental capacity is constantly being pushed to its outer limits. It’s a disheartening and unnerving craft, because sometimes your best words go unacknowledged. With each step taken forward, the hill inclines a slight bit.

Writing is a loving art. Loving because once your artistic threshold has been pushed, it nourishes your mind and reinvigorates into something slightly more grandeur. Loving because once you finish a piece, you immediately forget the feeling of hopelessness that once consumed you. In its place, accomplishment and self-satisfaction. Loving because the words you write are an expression of your very core as a human being. You created something that, a moment before, didn’t exist. You contributed to your culture, in a very small, but special way.

You have to be willing to take the hits to your ego as a piece you diligently worked on for hours goes unnoticed. You have to adopt the mentality that each piece, however grand or small, is nothing more than a brick placed towards building yourself as writer. Some will gather more attention than others, but even the most impressive structure has countless small bricks as support. Don’t forget that the world operates on a “what have you done for me lately” mentality. You’re only as good as your last piece, for the writer who dwells too long on his past success is a has-been.

Writing is self-absorbed and pretentious. It’s feeling that for whatever farfetched reason, people will actually care what you have to say about any subject whatsoever. It’s feeling that your uniqueness as a special snowflake is so god damn remarkable, that another special snowflake will take time away from their own little special snowflake existence to read what your special snowflake ass has to say. As the old maxim goes: it requires the foolishness to try, and the cockiness to think you can actually succeed.

Writing, in its simplest form, is putting words on paper. Like a skilled wordsmith, you must bend them to your will. Whether they be for good or evil, humor or grief, fact or fiction, they are yours for the taking. The only thing stopping you is whether you’re willing to dig deep enough to harness their power.

~Raul Felix

Some more writings about writing, read: One Year & Driving On

OMG, This One Time My Friend Becky and I…

Posted on by Standard 9

A lot of woman lack the ability of effective and memorable funny drunk story telling. What they constitute as a life changing event that everyone would be sure to think is amazing and hilarious is actually a rather mundane and tedious dive into details that really don’t add anything to the listeners day. Let’s take for example, what a woman thinks is a crazy drunk story that is sure to make people slap their knees in laughter.

Her unbelievably crazy story goes painfully like this: “Oh my god… this one time my friend Becky and I got really drunk and stuff. You know like, we were really wasted. We must have drunk like four beers each! Like, oh my god, it was crazy because we started laughing and stumbling all over the place. It got so crazy that she and I danced on the bar. On the bar! Like SO many people were looking at us. Then I got dizzy and I went to the bathroom and vomited. Becky was holding my hair. It was so crazy.”

If you’re a person who has had any real experience with making poor decisions with alcohol, you will realize that there is nothing “crazy” about that story. None of those events are something to be noted and discussed. It’s far too common of an occurrence and it’s on par with talking about your shit of the day. Unless of course, it was real intestine emptier weighing at least 8.6 courics. Same principle applies with your stories, they must be truly unique and outlandish, and not typical drunky fall down.

The fact of the matter is, what constitutes a wild drunk night for most women, is a mellow Tuesday night for us men. Its simple biology, because women weigh less and thus are able to consume less alcohol and thus pass out sooner. Also, women are physically weaker so they’re less of a destructive force when they turn chaotic. The lack of testosterone in their veins makes them less physically aggressive and less likely to get into fight or confrontation, though they are bigger shit talkers behind backs.

While men can tell tomes about their stupid, drunk glory days, what can a woman talk about that will make her nearly as interesting? Female writers, such as Chelsea Handler, have made themselves known by focusing on this area of life that women tend to have ridiculous misadventures in: sex.

Women probably have as many, if not more, whorish behavior stories then men have drunk, idiot stories. The thing is you never quite hear about them. Most females will hint at their sexual promiscuity, but very few will be so bold to speak about the time she behaved like total slut and fucked five guys at the same time and then went to her boyfriend’s and fucked him too. Or how she met some random guy at a concert and sucked his cock inside the porter potty after talking to him for five minutes. This is something they only tell to their close female friends and not something they blurt out at a party.

Perhaps we men are to blame for this. Even in this era of rising feminism and equality, we tend to have a problem with hearing a woman openly talk about her sex life. We really don’t want to hear about or acknowledge the dozens of cocks that have passed through a woman’s orifices. But hot damn, doesn’t it make for some good reading? It’s far more interesting to hear about your sexual high jinks, then your pathetic excuse of a drunk story. Yet, in a catch-22, the thing that will make you more interesting, will also make us less likely to take you seriously as a potential partner. Sure, we’ll fuck your brains out and use you for your body. But make you a girlfriend or wife after learning about all cocks you’ve catered to? I bet a vast majority of men will take issue with it, though there are plenty who couldn’t care either way.

Of course there is more to story telling than talking about drinking and fucking, and there are plenty of female speakers and writers who are damn good at being funny without talking about those subjects. The real complaint is that very few woman’s drunk debauchery stories can hold a candle to a man’s drunk debauchery stories. It’s like being forced to a watch a little league baseball game when you really want to watch a major league baseball game. If you want to speak about a “really crazy night” tell us about that time you fucked the entire football team and then showed up to church the next morning reeking of booze and semen. Oh my god, now that’s crazy.

~Raul Felix

A Non-Bullshit Story: The Gay Meth Story