Playlist: The Essential Old Sad Bastard

Yet another repost from the Jack era.


A work in progress. Songs about unrequited love, loss, anger, pain, and general malaise. A lot of these are a bit modern for my taste, but I've just really gotten into music in the past few years. Considering the music I had around when most people get into music, you shouldn't blame me.

Lost Cause - Beck

Back in Your Head - Tegan and Sara

Bang Bang - Nancy Sinatra cover

How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead

Losing My Religion - REM

Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley cover

Jolene - Dolly Parton

True Romance - She Wants Revenge

Cat's in the Cradle - Harry Chapin

Superstar - The Carpenters

Eleanor Rigby - The Beatles

Hotel California - The Eagles

Knockin' on Heaven's Door - Bob Dylan

Danny Boy - Johnny Cash cover

Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia - Vicki Lawrence

One More Time - Joe Jackson

Hurt - Johnny Cash Cover

New content:

Creep - Radiohead

A Woman in Love (it's not me) - Tom Petty

Down in the Willow Garden - Everly Brothers cover

Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black) - Neil Young

Old repost.

Repost from an old blog I had before I ever updated my myspace page. You can tell it's old because it was during the blessedly short-lived period where people called me Jack, and I let them.


"The Friend Zone is a diabolical necessity"

Women are thought to have invented it in the 1860's, during the ravages of the Civil War. Naturally, military men were everywhere, and several of them were missing limbs. Hotties of the Civil War period were in a bad situation. It would be rude to outright deny the armless, legless, and earless their love, but at the same time, ew. Thus, the friend zone. For those of you who were popular in high school and continued to melt the inhibitions of women well into your adult life, or those who generally don't speak to women, I'll explain the friend zone.

The friend zone is when a woman (or hey, man, who knows?) begins to classify a man as an absolutely platonic figure in her life, while the man in question has romantic feelings. When a woman puts a man in the Zone, she will often string him along, unintentionally or otherwise. Invariably, they will date asshole men, who are nonetheless far preferable to her cronies in the Zone. (With good reason) Women are driven by instinct to seek a superior male specimen, and if you've been on the internet for more than an hour before reading this, you clearly aren't a superior specimen. More likely, you're shy and deferential when a woman speaks to you. (I'm certainly not going to offer dating advice; I'm the least believable source on the subject I can imagine. I will only say that this behavior generally only appeals to women who have been endlessly jerked around by more attractive, interesting men and have (temporarily) grown tired of the lifestyle. But I digress.) Men who aren't labeled as possible mates are filed away into the friend zone, no matter the sincerity or intensity of romantic feelings on the part of the male. The friend zone is nigh-impossible to escape, unless you suddenly become smarter or (more effectively) better looking.

Now, the friend zone can be used as a tool for good. Some guys are just not boyfriend material. Lacking social grace and holding loyalty to a woman only because of her tits and smile, these morose bastards are best suited for duty in the friend zone. They can provide an emergency shoulder for an upset young woman, and can often be conned into doing various favors for the woman whose zone they reside in. The main problem here comes from the expectation on the part of the male that these favors mean that the female is indebted to him, in the eternal, universal currency of poontang. Obviously, this is fucking retarded.

We will call this the “Jack” tier of the friend zone.

The F-Zone holds a special place for the ex-lover. Now, this is the most morally ambiguous usage of the friend zone in my opinion. An ex-boyfriend who treated you like shit before the breakup deserves his spot in the zone. Stringing him along, encouraging him, but within moderation...it will drive a man up the walls. This vengeful usage of the friend zone gets high marks, from where I stand. This tier of the zone is highly effective because there is a higher possibility (solely in the mind of the male) of getting a relationship or (more truthfully) sex out of the association, because of the past romance. At the same time, this part of the zone can be used for unintentional evil. Some women, rare though they may be, don't understand that by stringing along an ex-boyfriend they are not sparing his feelings. They are fucking with his head, and might not even know it. If they do know it, they are either a sadistic bitch, or the man deserves the mindfuck, as previously detailed. Another weakness of this tier is that it's the second most escapable. Recidivism is always a risk after a relationship ends anyway, and maintaining a friendship may occasionally lead to feelings developing on the part of the female. The best solution for this is for the exchange of tales about each other's sexual exploits, which will escalate (because naturally each individual wishes to be the one “moving on) to the point that you'll both be disgusted with each other and the feelings will become confused with resentment. This is best, because hurt and angry are the same as happy for smart people (Dr. Who).

We will call this the “Jack” tier also, if it's all the same to you guys.

The next tier is the most boring and certainly the least known to me. This is because it is not really the friend zone. This is where women put men who they very much plan to date/sleep with/ride like a government mule/play pool with when they have a boyfriend. They're often dorky in a Paul Rudd/Zach Levi sort of way, which is to say, not dorky at all. They have social skills, they're fairly attractive, and they often only have to wait until the Biochemical Reaction We Call Love runs its course in the woman's preexisting relationship to get out of the Zone. They will complain to their loser friends about being Zoned, and some of them will smack him upside the head because he has NOT FELT THE PAIN!!!1

We will most certainly not call this the “Jack” tier.

Privacy

Having few friends on Facebook, fewer still who talk to me, this blog is pretty much private for now, but it has that extra sexy risk of discovery. I have a counter which shows that at least a couple people have looked at it, but then, I could have just forgotten my own browsing. So until I learn otherwise, I suppose I'll continue getting a little thrill out of posting things I don't consciously want anybody to see.

Oddity

So I think that maybe there's a small chance I don't want to be her boyfriend, not as such anyway. My attraction to her hasn't really ever been on the physical side. Not to say I don't find her attractive, but unlike some women I've gone after, my primary motivation in speaking to her isn't trying to fuck her. It's like...I'd just like to hang out with her. I'd like her to be a closer friend than she is at the moment. I'd like somebody to stay up until dawn with watching movies. I guess that what I want sort of necessitates being her boyfriend, which is unfortunate for me, but I think it's a sign of maturity that I'm beginning to entertain the idea of settling. Though, to be honest, I'm switching back and forth between
A. being okay with a mere friendship
B. Wanting to go on the offensive and simply will my way into her good graces
and C. Wanting to say "fuck it" to the whole thing and be pissed at her for Zoning me and myself for letting it happen.

ETA: Holy crap, I can't believe I forgot to add a quote, much less one from one of my favorite movies which seems so very fitting.

---

"I wanna be with her more, I wanna be with her all the time, and I wanna tell her things I don't even tell you or mum. And I don't want her to have another boyfriend. I suppose if I could have all those things, I wouldn't really mind if I touched her or not."

Disclaimer

I'll fix up, title, and order everything on here eventually, I just want to make sure they're here. The blogs here are taken from my myspace. I have this blog linked on my facebook, but for the most part I don't really expect people to read it for a couple months, at which point the blog will be fixed up and I'll push the link on everybody I know. So this post is just for those who stumble across it while it's under construction.

reposts, vol 11

I weigh the consequences. I convince myself. I work up the will. Then I talk to her, and I lose all ambition toward digging myself out of the hole. I'm a fairly level-headed person who just fucking drops his logic when it comes to this one. Every rational part of me is screaming to get out of there, to either get used to the lack of advancement, or cut my losses and be back to where I was before I saw her again. I feel anger, and resentment, and apathy toward her...until she speaks to me, and I remember why I put myself through this. She said it best...to closely paraphrase: that she's as smart as me, that she shares the same interests as me, that she likes talking to me, that she can make me blush...I enjoy these things. It's time to move on in one way or another, and I know that on some level, but for now, I think I'm happy just being humored, sad as that is.

reposts, vol 10

(Graduation night, 2007)

This has been a most odd fucking school year.


New schedules, new friends, football, a major surgery, a half-assed romantic interest in a girl who barely knows I exist, and, the pinnacle, tonight, where I manged to dodge the shame of not graduating with my class, despite being absent for probably about half of the school year, and just plain ditching one of my classes for the last two months of school.


Tonight, I saw people I hadn't seen since I first came to Cobre High. Alternakids, Opportunikids, and the one guy who slept in his car for the vast majority of junior year. Amazingly, only one pregnant girl, and only the 4 people with kids, er, that I know of.

Some random thoughts on graduation night, where I myspace it as opposed to going out drinking like the cool kids. (doing that tomorrow)

The kids I didn't like when I first came to Cobre are now my circle of friends. But if they ask what spry is again, I'll stab them.

There are more girls in college willing to date a fat loser, or so I hope, because Western is my last shot at having sex again before I hit 20.

I look pimp in pigtails.

One of my best friends defied expectation by coming to graduation sober, and with a cap and gown, as opposed to having sold them for pot.

Eric Maez deserved his standing ovation.

I may be the only person in Cobre High history to have graduated while sporting muttonchops.

Jimmy has a really hot sister.



That's all for tonight, kids. With my sudden abundance of spare time, I'll join the loser's legion of myspacers.