Down On Ferry Farm

From “Men’s Health”: Ever walk into a bar and fall in lust with seven women at once? Easy, big fella. Researchers at Northwestern University studied speed-dating sessions and found that people who desired most or all of their potential dates were the least likely to find a match. People can pick up on indiscriminate desire, and it turns them off, says study coauthor Paul Eastwick Ph.D. Conversely, when someone clearly desired one individual above all others, that individual was more likely to reciprocate. In normal dating scenarios, make the most of those opening minutes with a woman with a compliment tailored to her, Eastwick suggests. Refer to the real her (style or personality), not the superficial (jewelry or smile). Wow. I had to read this short blurb about 3 or 4 times just to make it was describing me perfectly or just ALMOST perfectly. This is exactly what I do. I almost blushed a little when I read that last part about referring to her style or personality and not her smile.

You know, it’s nice not being a professional writer. I can stare at this blank screen all day and not have to come up with a single idea. It’s nice. I was sitting here, trying to think of something to blog about and then it hit me – nothing. There’s nothing on the screen when you first start but as you continue, the screen fills up. In addition to that, I was conveying the idea that I’m not a professional writer but someone is reading this. The difference? I’m not getting paid, stupid. What do you think ‘professional’ means anyway? Jeez. You know what else is nice? Sunny days with cool breezes like today. It was beautiful outside but if I lived in weather like this everyday I think I’d get bored. [Major snip here. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss anything] You know what else is nice? The smile from a pretty girl. How about a hug from a child. All nice things. Clothes that fit well. Not making a typo in something you’re writing. Winning an argument. Having the right answer when somebody ask

First, I must make mention of the moon. The shape and angle of the crescent make it look like the outline of a pregnant woman’s belly. You can almost see her arching her back, her elbows bent and her hands placed on the outside small of her back. She has a sweet smile, as if an elderly couple is commenting on her glow. That’s the moon this evening. My sister and I saw a play tonight. We went to dinner first and she told me all the stories of our family of late. Since I’m ‘flying solo’ here, I don’t always get the stories everyone else does so it was good to catch up. The play we saw was… interesting. I thought we were going to see “King Lear” but what we saw was a play called “King Lear: The Storm at Home”. It was narrated by a man whose father was dying and contracted dementia. The play was interwoven with stories of others who were going through the same thing with their parents and tied together with long excerpts from ‘Lear’ that related with what was being said. At times, the stor

Seems I’m going in the wrong direction here. I’d like to find a nice SINGLE woman to spend some time with but lately I’ve been hanging out with married women. That’s no fun. Friday night I was hanging out with the redhead from HR. She’s the one I took to dinner previously. This time we went to this Mexican place and ate and drank. It was nice, comfortable and we laughed a lot. A LOT! About 80 percent of the way through the evening, A-girl calls me and asks me to come out. She’s at the bar at which we spent the second half of my birthday. She was getting ready to leave there and go to L2’s father’s place (her Uncle, still with me?) Anyhow, redhead and I say goodbye for the night and I call A-girl when I’m close to where she is. She directs me to her Uncle’s place and we proceed to drink some more. They’re already a few six-packs ahead of me. Next thing I know we’re all gathered around the TV watching the Pink Floyd “Pulse” DVD. It’s concert footage from 1994. They have this cranked to 1

There are NO women like this on dating sites: Whom do I sue?

Whenever I go hunting, for some reason I disarm myself. That is to say, I empty my weapon of its ammunition. I always carry my weapon when hunting. I suppose that it’s to give myself the appearance of actually hunting. I definitely feel more like a man when I'm hunting -- empty weapon or not. I don’t know why I do this. It seems to me that carrying a weapon around without any bullets is a deception. It is hearing without listening. It is talking without speaking. It is a lie. I’ve thought long and hard about this but cannot come up with an answer as to why I do this. When I happen upon a target when I’m hunting they fall into three categories: Too easy to shoot, just right, mostly unattainable. Too easy: this is compromised of things like bunnies and birds. They are abundant and easy prey. The bunnies are cute but fat and some of the birds are downright ugly. Why not shoot them? Why not get a kill under my belt? These are the questions I wrestle with. Just right: This is usually th