The Integrated Man

February 2, 2011

Barbara Kay on institutional feminism and misandry

Filed under: Family,Identity,Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 7:46 pm

Men don’t matter. Get angry!!

September 10, 2010

Danielle and I first started sleeping together almost a year ago.

Filed under: Anne and The Divorce,Identity,Life,Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 3:34 am

Danielle and I first started sleeping together almost a year ago. 

 It was a time in my life when I had realized I had to be the man or else.  I had just been through a heartbreaking divorce.  I had realized that my own horrible case of nice guy itis had cost me everything.  I was just getting into a lot of dating advice, how to be alpha, and so forth.  I had just begun to dig into David’s materials.  I was changing.

A little background:

 I’ve known her a long time.  My family owns restaurants and she’s worked for us for a long time.  We’ve always been friendly.  She’s always enjoyed flirting with me.  What I was beginning to understand at that point was that when a girl flirts with you and gives you the green light, it’s because she wants to fuck you.  Period.  Simple enough.  Makes sense. 

 So one Sunday, she’s flirting with me and I called her out, inviting her back to my place.  Let’s go, right now, this morning.  She went wide eyed and almost dropped the coffee cup she was carrying.  She couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day.  On her way out she gave me her personal cell number and I told her I’d call her.  I don’t think she believed me.  This whole thing was very taboo, and I should tell you now, she’s married. 

 So here we go:

 I call her two days later which is a Tuesday, to set up midday rendezvous for the next day.  She sounds stilted on the phone.  She was nervous as hell and frankly she couldn’t believe I called.  She went on about how she doesn’t have a body like my ex-wife.  Now she’s nervous.

 Here’s the part where I “dommed” and didn’t even know it:  She comes over the next day, and I’m sitting in my chair in my home office.  I just put my arms out and said “Come Here.”  She jumped in my lap and we started making out.  It wasn’t long before clothes flew off and off to the bedroom we went.  Maybe I have a bit of the Madonna/Whore complex with Danielle, because it was always natural and easy for me to be dominant and confident with her.  It’s also very natural and easy to talk dirty which, yes, she loves. 

 She is extremely responsive to me.  She has claimed repeatedly that it’s just something I do to her.  She comes vaginally through intercourse for me.  A lot.  We have about a three or four to one orgasm ratio.  There was a period when the relationship was new, that I would just keep getting it up for her after I came, which amazed her.  I experiment with supplements for longevity.  (Now I’m growing up with that, reading Maximum Male Performance and getting ready to order all the supplements – can’t wait to report on that!)

 Anyway she says my cock hits her just right.  She knows what a vaginal orgasm is and explained it to me one day, which was funny.  I’m pretty sure it’s mental and she’s responding to me being the man, at least in her eyes. 

 After the emasculation of my divorce, Danielle has been an object lesson for me in being the man and how important it is.  She is almost as important a teacher to me as David is. 

 The mindset is everything.  All else follows after that.

 I’m not remembering everything that’s relevant and I’m sure that I’ll add to this as time goes on.

 I just wanted to share my first success story of dominance and dirty talk!

June 3, 2010

Thoughts for Anne….

Filed under: Anne and The Divorce,Family,Life,Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 5:21 pm

Anne honey, you’re hot and cold. Here’s what I think may be happening: you don’t really want me. You like the comfort I afford you because I am strong. I am your rock.

If that is indeed the case, I can no longer be used. You see, you and are most closely connected at our base chakras. That’s why the sex was so good. The flip side to that is that when you become emotionally distant, I can feel it in my stomach. It feels like a watermelon in my stomach.

Look deep within honey. If you don’t want to be with me, you can’t just be with me for comfort. I’m needing to know where I stand. I’ve really got my life together and I don’t have room for hot and cold. I’m getting to that “moving on” place.

It’s time for us to move on. Either with or without each other. But we need to pick one.

May 11, 2010

Upcoming

Filed under: Identity,Life,Money,Sex and Love,The Book,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 10:34 pm

I know I’ve been quiet for a while. I’m working on developing my magnificent obsession. I’m listening to Kevin Trudeau’s magnificent “Your Wish is Your Command” cd set. I’m taking extensive notes which I’ll post and discuss here.

April 30, 2010

Putting my money where my mouth is……..

Filed under: Identity,Life,Life And Death,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 11:42 pm

I’ve been touting the benefits of self improvement for a while now.  I really am in the process of designing a better life and fashioning myself into the kind of person I want to be.  Well, I recently took a very big step.  I kicked my renter out of the house.  I don’t need his rent money I don’t want him around.  Why is this significant?  Here’s the story:

George and I have have been tight for close to 17 years.  Tight.  Sometimes realtionships carry on out of habit after the person who was so special to us has completely dissappeared.   George has been in and out of trouble over the years.  He was a spoiled brat with an upper middle class upbringing fast on his way to becoming a lawyer.  But he never had it in him.  as soon as George got to college and out from under the umbrella of his overprotective father, he crashed and burned.  He made it one semester at Michigan State University and flunked out.  the guy was out of gas from the start. 

So he comes homes and gets a job and a local comic sci-fi store.  That’s where he and I became friends.  He was always a lot fun.  Lazy, unmotivated and undependable, but that didn’t matter to me at the time.   Well I moved to LA, worked with the high and mighty for a while and five years later moved home to marry the love of my life.  In the meantime:

George is diagnosed bipolar.  Tells his father that he hates him in a family therapy session.  His father dies that night of a massive brain hemmorage or something.  George continues sliding downhill, his stepmother completely cuts him off.  In this time, George smokes more and more pot.  Two other friends cut him off at this point. 

Meanwhile, I come home from LA like nothings happened and we’re friends again.  Well, i get busy getting married and stuff and fall out of touch.  During this time, George, in a paranoid episode, gets into a fistfight with his stepfather and goes to the Macomb County Jail for nearly nine months.  It’s from here that he gets back in touch with me after some time out of touch (again).  Silly me, just keep giving him chance after chance.  He comes off as a nice guy and snow’s alot of people. 

Getting to the point, I’m going to skip alot of the story.  It’s 2008 and I’m getting divorced.  It is the worst experience of my life and George, to be fair, is there for me.  almost from the beginning he’s offering to move into my basement and pay me rent to help me out.  She walked away and left me with the house after the divorce. 

I didn’t want him to live with me.  I knew better.  He’s a slob.  He’s unmotivated.  He’s a bad influence to be around.  Well there were a couple of mitigating circumstances.

  1. He got social security.  As pathetic as that is, at least I was garuanteed he’d always have the rent money every month.
  2. He got accepted to a very prestigiuous school.  He’s an artist, and I got him back into his painting.  He got accepted to the College for Creative Studies in Detroit on a full ride.  Not easily done.

So I figured he’s moving up in the world and he’s be busy this will be managable.  Well, the whole summer he sat in his underwear in the basement.  I was already ready to kill him.  He finally starts going to school, goes for a month, cries and bitches about how hard it is and stops going.  And starts sleeping all day.  And I mean all day.  So I put him on notice around christmas time and he swears he’s going to give it another go.  He does.  Same thing, back to bed all day.  Slob.  Unmotivated.

I kicked his ass out.  You are the sum total of your five best friends and I can’t have him factoring into my GPA anymore.  This is my first week of having my house back to myself and being free of him.  So far so great……….

April 18, 2010

Here’s what I’m going to do……

Filed under: Identity,Life,Money,Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 1:53 am

Well it’s been quite a year.  I’m in great shape – starting to act like James Bond and getting laid.  I’ve kicked out my loser roomate and can’t wait to be alone – one more week.  I’m working on self improvement in a few different areas:

  1. law of attraction/wealth.  I have a new Kevin Trudea CD set called “Your Wish Is Your Command”.  I will be listeneing to that over and over and reflecting on my ideas and insights. 
  2. Pick up/ sex.  I’ve got alot going on here.  Alot of materials and insights to integrate.   Doc Love’s System, RSD bluepringt decoded and flawless natural, David Shade’s materials and more. 

I will be taking raw observational notes on what I learn and I will be making my own commentary.  I intend to post all of that here.  This writing we help with my learning.  This is a new beginning………

September 18, 2009

The Blueprint decoded notes

Filed under: Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 12:21 pm

The Blueprint Decoded Notes

I Wish You Enough

Filed under: Family,Life,Life And Death,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 12:01 pm

Here is your Friday story,

I Wish You Enough

I never really thought that I’d spend as much time in airports as I do. I don’t know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I’m not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.

I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to “hello” and “goodbye.” I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories.

I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.

Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.

On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, “How are you today?” I replied, “I am missing my wife already and I haven’t even said goodbye.”

She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, “How long will you…Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!” We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.

But I learn from goodbye moments, too.

Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, “I love you. I wish you enough.” She in turn said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.”

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.

So I knew what this man was experiencing.

“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?” I asked.

“I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral,” he said.

“When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, “I wish you enough.” May I ask what that means?”

He began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.”When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them,” he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he
were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough “Hello’s” to get you through the final “Goodbye.”

He then began to sob and walked away.

My friends, I wish you enough!

Bob Perks

Bob Perks is a professional writer and speaker. You can visit his website at: www.BobPerks.com
Thomas Nelson Publishers will be releasing his book, I Wish You Enough: Embracing Life’s Most Valuable Moments – One Wish at a Time on December 8, 2009. It is a collection of his stories based on the “Eight Wishes” expressed in the original story.

September 17, 2009

Megan Fox Won’t Shut Up

Filed under: Identity,Life,Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 8:38 pm

From comcast entertainment
popcast:

By Audrey Morrison

By Audrey Morrison

Megan Fox has single-handedly gotten herself pegged as a psychotic, self-loathing, possibly bisexual young woman with no friends who is prone to violent outbursts and panic attacks, yet she continues to spill her deep dark secrets to practically anyone who asks.

In a sheer black bodysuit on the cover of October’s Rolling Stone Magazine Fox looks completely confident in flaunting her much-drooled over body. Is it possible that the words this picture paints are totally off base?

Well, yes. According to Megan she is “really insecure about everything” and “has a sick feeling of being mocked all the time.”

We should be unfazed by anything Fox has to say at this point. Still, the admission that she has threatened to kill on-again, off-again boyfriend Brian Austin Green several times during fights doesn’t sit right.

“I’ve had to say to Brian, ‘You have to go and stop talking to me, because I’m going to kill you. I’m going to stab you with something. Please leave,'” she said. “I’d never own a gun for that reason. I wouldn’t shoot to kill. But I would shoot him in the leg, for sure.”

Delving into the sultry brunette’s angsty teen years uncovers another secret that most people would have a problem telling their closest friends and family let alone the whole world.

When Fox is asked if she’s ever cut herself she simply replies, “Yeah” then quickly follows up with, “But I don’t want to elaborate.”

Don’t believe her, though. In true Fox fashion she keeps rambling.

“I would never call myself a cutter,” she clarifies. “Girls go through different phases when they’re growing up when they’re miserable and do different things, whether it’s an eating disorder or they dabble in cutting.”

My Comments:

Are you fucking kdding me?  this is the kind of psychotic bitch that we idealize?  I’m dumbfounded.

September 13, 2009

Ode to the Nice Guys

Filed under: Identity,Life,Sex and Love,The Meaning of Life — Integrated Man @ 3:16 am

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

 

This is a tribute to the nice guys.

The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support.

This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style. This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you. This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it.

This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

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