Posts Tagged ‘sex’

Israel Reflections

Posted: January 8, 2012 in Israel
Tags: , , , , ,

Jaffa Gate. I took this photo on one of my many walk through the area.

I sit here now on the F train at 5am. I just finished shooting for 4 days, the last of 9 days of principal photography for a film I played lead in. As is always when completing a large, intense project I feel exhilarated, exhausted and most of all reflective. Listening now to some of the music I listened to often in Israel, my thoughts turn to that time in my life.

Admittedly it was a time of intense change, thought and confusion, but most of all it was the birth place of a dream. A dream so vague, so wonderful, yet so unattainable. I remember going to visit my friend from Venezuela who at the time was learning in Chevron. We’d meet up at his dorm, go catch a movie where I’d learned that if a movie had Deniro or Al Pacino in it yes, we’d go see it. (We saw Righteous Kill.)

I’d watch as he flirted with the cute cashier, experiencing my first taste of freedom. Of something different. We’d go back and chill at his dorm, chain smoking and generally bullshitting the night away.

The walk back to the bus at 7am. I’d be listening to the music that I have on now and I’d realize I just wanted to be somebody. I wanted to express myself.

I had an urge, a desire for something better.

I had a will for life. To really live, for the first time.

It was the time of intense yearning for something I could not have. Or could I? Years later it makes for some pleasant memories. Surprisingly so. While I spent 6 months depressed over a girl chainwatching movies on my iPod touch and was overall highly emo, I became – well I became…me.
And for that, I am thankful.

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This is what happens when the photo I'm trying to upload won't work. I get frustrated, need to go act, and put any random image up.

As luck would have it, I’m filming the final episode of Coversity today in Maryland. I’d landed in NY from Burbank via stopover in Phoenix after burying my grandpa, and hopped on a bus to DC this morning where I was picked up and driven to the set in Rockville, Maryland.

Now, I’d grown up with certain things being romanticized. Such as film, LA (thanks mom), and…earthquakes. I’d heard countless stories of earthquake drills my mom had in school, where they would climb under their desks. In Israel, children do this out of fear form terror attacks. Here it’s from earthquakes.

I’d never felt one tho. My mom would always try to simulate that (more…)

There was once a blog. That blogger released too much sensitive info of girls he fucked, so he shut it down. Luckily it was all copied beforehand, so we can all read his writings of genius here at solomonreborn.wordpress.com

This post expresses everything wrong, and by default kinda awesome, about American girls. One of the best posts I have ever read. I included the comments. be sure to read comment #3.

Drive Thru Boyfriends

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Dalrock

Fall 2010 by Solomon II

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, add extra self respect.  Hold the judgment and consequences please.

“I’m sorry; we’re all out of self respect.  Would you like to add a side of rationalization for only $1 more?”

“Yeah.  That’s fine.  Super size it please.”

“Thank you.  Please pull up to the window for your total.”

There she is driving down the road of life at her own pace.  She’s young, independent, beautiful and has all the time in the world.  When she’s horny, she swings into the closest drive thru and places her order.  She does the same thing when she’s sad, lonely, happy, up, down, in, out, excited, needy, afraid, strong, weak, depressed, moody, joyful, exhilarated, stressed, etc. Any and every reason is valid because she’s being “true to herself”. Every three months on average she swings into McFling’s and orders up the best looking or most exciting thing on the menu (because she’s sooo selective).  There’s also a couple of late night snack runs thrown in there for good measure, but not as many as some other girls, so you have no right to judge her.  She’s young and her metabolism is firing on all cylinders, so now is the time for her to gorge herself with no consequences.

At the age of 27, she starts to notice that her steady diet of junk food relationships isn’t as satisfying as it once was.  Sure the bright lights, flashy signs, fast service and cheap satisfaction made for great fun, but now she’s starving for wholesome affection and beginning to show signs of emotional malnutrition.  There has to be something better out there.  Something more substantive.

All of a sudden she decides to make a change.  No more drive thru boyfriends.  Certainly everyone understands that her junk food relationship binge wasn’t her fault since it’s the bulk of what society offers.  It’s our culture.  These greasy high calorie drive thru boyfriend establishments are on every corner, advertised on every channel, glamorized in the media, and no one really told her how bad they could be for her health.  It’s society’s fault.  It’s the franchise’s fault. All the girls she knows are doing it, so how could she possibly be expected to know any better?

So now she wants steak, and by God she’s convinced that she deserves it from a five star restaurant.

She takes a shower hoping the stench of her decade long habit of frequenting McFling’s won’t be as noticeable.  She may not know how to act properly at the new fancy steakhouse she’s going to try tonight, but it’s ok.  Men always give her a pass on her behavior since she’s beautiful and an easy lay adventurous.

When she’s all done getting ready and is confident that she can look and act like the type of girl who has been eating healthy all along, she heads out for the best steakhouse in town.  Why not the best?  She deserves it, and her friend Michelle ate there last week (and she’s totally not even pretty).

With all the undeserved self confidence in the world and an advanced case of juvenile egocentrism, she pulls into the parking lot of the steakhouse.  She notices there are dozens of people standing in line.  She doesn’t understand.  The stupid bitch at the hostess desk asked her if she had a reservation.  A reservation?!  How rude!  She has a vagina and that’s always been sufficient before, so what gives?  It seems the steakhouse is completely booked for months.

Now she’s pissed off.  How could the upscale steakhouse refuse to seat her?  So what if she showed up right at prime dinner time (27 years old o’clock) and demanded the best seat in the house.  She deserves it.  She’s waited so long for it… well, not really, but in theory anyway.  She always knew the steakhouse was there, she just never took the time to plan ahead for reservations.  It’s not her fault.

As she drives away, she realizes she has another problem.  She’s still hungry.  She pulls in to yet another McFling’s, this time disgusted to be there.  But she’s changed, so she decides to try something different.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the steak please.”

“We don’t serve steak.  Show me your tits.”

“I’m not like that anymore.  Steak please.”

“I can offer you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, and pretend to hold the judgment and consequences if you’d like.”

“Steak please.”

“Bitch, would you like me to serve you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, pretend to hold the judgment and consequences, and just *tell you* it’s steak?”

“Steak please.”

“Fine.  Please pull up to the first window.  I’ll have your total and a treat for your hamster.”

This cycle continues until she turns 30 and realizes that she’ll never get in to the steakhouse.  She’s waited much too long to make reservations, so she settles for a Beta male who takes her to Chili’s on 2 for 1 night in his minivan.  Hey, it’s not the steakhouse she deserves, but it’s better than that asshole Solomon II at the drive thru boyfriend joint.  At least Chili’s has real silverware.

That night she stumbles upon a blog with a post entitled “Drive Thru Boyfriends” and gets righteously annoyed.  That’s not her at all.  That was never her intention.  She’s different, special, and unique.  What gives the author the right to assume that he knows her or can determine what she’s been through in her AMAZING life?  He doesn’t know her story.  He doesn’t know her heart.  He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.  He can’t tell her what kind of person she is, or what her fate will be.  She’s different than the rest.  She’s strong, independent and wise beyond her years.

In her rage she hits the road again, confused by what has happened to her and angry that she didn’t get what she deserved out of life.  With her Beta boyfriend wondering where the hell she is, she drives past the steakhouse which is closed for the night.  Blinded by fury and driven by emotion, she decides to make yet another change.  A real and meaningful change this time.  This time she’ll get it right and enjoy what she deserves for being an amazing woman.  Her rationalization hamster helps out with navigation and leads her to a brand new place.  Somewhere she’s never been.  This is it!  This is what she needs.  This time she’s confident she’ll get what she deserves.

And she does.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Steak, please…”

Suggested Reading: Commitment as a Form of Female Investment by Dalrock.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About Solomon II
As iron sharpeneth iron, so one man sharpeneth another. Proverbs 27:17

One blogger likes this post.
Dalrock

16 Responses to Drive Thru Boyfriends

  1.  Penguin says:

    The last couple of posts are great. You’re on fire!

  2.  HappilyMarriedButJustGotLucky says:

    Agree with Penguin. Quite creative and enjoyable!

  3.  Days of Broken Arrows says:

    …and then one day she turned 42. And she realized few people wanted to serve her McBurgers anymore. The steak had never really come her way, but McBurgers always came easy. Now even that was hard to come by. So she went driving into the night until it became morning.

    Sunday morning.

    That’s when she found the mega-church, or the McChurch. She also found McJesus in the McPastor’s McSermons which weren’t really from scripture, but a McReading of the scripture to appeal to the McPeople who filled the McChurch. The Dr. Phil platitudes of the McPreacher allowed her to feel self-righteous and pass judgment on everyone else. Sure, she might have screwed anything that walked, but now she was a McVirgin. Surely, she was a cut above those sinners who didn’t find the McWord, wasn’t she?

    Male attention had ceased, but it came around again when she began posting McPlatitudes on her Facebook page. Things like “If God brings you to it, then God will get you through it.” Now guys were practically high five-ing her online, since that was what they thought they were supposed to do, knowing nothing better in their empty American McLives of football’n’McJesus. And she began responding to people with “God loves you!” Instead of a simple “Bye!” or “Hello!” That got attention. Her breasts were sagging, but her HolyMcSpirit was high. It also made it easier to block out the cries she heard of all the McBabies she never did have (or the ones that wound up washed in pieces in the McDoctor’s drain).

    Like all TRUE stories, this one has a moral.

    Women who use sex in their twenties to get power and fulfillment use religion in their forties when the sex well runs dry. Of course, it’s all McPower — not the real thing, but a low-budget simulation.

  4.  Solomon II says:

    @Days: Beautifully done, and so true. As the son of a Baptist Minister, I can confirm 100%. Church is the last refuge of many a whore. That’s why I laugh when men say they want to go to church to meet a good girl.

    @ Penguin and Happily: Thanks! I really appreciate your feedback.

  5.  finndistan says:

    That was one of the best ways the concept has been written about.

    Btw,

    It is not just wanting to eat steak at a restaurant, it is also wanting the restaurant to pay them for eating the steak; and even pay for the open tabs of the past McFlings.

    And due all the additives (i.e. sodium glutamate, sweeteners, preservatives…) , the taste buds are almost dead, so the steak will never taste like a pumped um McFling with cream on top.

  6.  Solomon II says:

    @finndistan: It’s amazing how this analogy could go on and on forever and still hold true.

  7. Pingback: Commitment as a form of female investment. | Dalrock
  8.  Thag Jones says:

    He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.

    I lol’d. That’s a good one!

  9.  dalrock says:

    “We don’t serve steak. Show me your tits.”

    One of the funniest things I’ve read in a long, long time!

    Thanks for your link back and putting me on your blogroll! I’ve added you to mine as well not so much out of reciprocation, but because I want to be able to read your latest posts easily. I’ve only read your most recent four posts, but I’m hooked.

    One question though, who is Darlock? :)

    [Damn it. Give me a sec.]

  10. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: You Know What the Pattern Is Edition
  11.  Bronckin’ Buckeye says:

    Is this the customer you’re talking about?

    http://40daysandengaged.tumblr.com/

    It’s a must read.

    “Flirting with the laws of attraction. As single (and choosy) girls ——— and —– have decided to put their beliefs in the Law of Attraction to the test to attract the men of their dreams…. We will be wearing engagement rings for 40 days to send signals to the universe that we have found what we are looking for. By doing this we are hoping that in response to those signals we are sending out we will actually receive what we are looking for.
    We will be following some rules through this experiment.
    1. The ring must be worn during every public outting
    2. If a possible “love interest” questions the ring and asks if we are engaged we must answer “Yes, to myself.”
    3. No dating (or similar extra curricular activities) during the 40 day period.
    4. We must go “out” and socialize at least once per weekend
    *Rules are subject to change at our discretion*”

    [S2 Says: Christ, man. Women are fucking delusional. I should quit picking on them and start a foundation or something.]

  12.  Squared says:

    Hey Solomon, just found your blog earlier today. I’ve gone back in your archives and have read about a dozen of your posts already, and I find myself short of superlatives. Absolutely brilliant stuff all around. You definitely have what it takes to become the new king of this part of the blogosphere.

    I’ll be checking this one regularly, keep it up!

  13.  Steve says:

    Funny shit bro.

We’re raising $ for the show I’m on , Coversity. Any help would be appreciated. http://www.indiegogo.com/Coversity-the-Series

Came across this on a blog. I couldn’t agree more.

A Proposal: Let’s Stop Making ‘Wedding’ One of Life’s Key Check Marks.

by Joy Engel on April 27, 2011

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you that I’m officially interested in the Royal Wedding.

I tried to keep the cynicism alive, I really did. But it’s hard to be anti-Royal Wedding while also being friends with Chiara and communicating daily with a colleague in London. And once I realized that being interested in the Royal Wedding essentially means day drinking and talking about fancy hats (two of my favorite pastimes), I was all on board.

Like all short-lived obsessions, I’ve thrown myself into this. I watched the Lifetime movie, I read some articles about their history and crowned myself an expert on Wills and Kate. I think they’re nice. I think they actually love each other. I think she has glorious hair. And that’s a lot for me to think about a couple I will never actually meet. Let’s have some more champagne.

My wedding enthusiasm is (more…)

For those of you who have trouble distinguishing between right and wrong, I offer you a visual representation... Any questions?

What defines something as wrong? Technically is there something wrong with banging a goat? It’s sick, disgusting and if I know anyone who did it I’d never talk to them again. But I think we define wrong as something that is out of our societal norms. let me give a few examples:

Oh, and please don’t leave comments telling me I’m making stereoypes etc. I’m not dumb. I’m well aware that most people in each segment probably don’t conform to those stereotypes, but that’s why they’re called stereotypes. Cuz that’s all it is. A stereoype, not reality.

Someone learning at R’ Avrohom Yehoshua: I know a bochur who’s mamesh messed up.  He learns more than a blatt every half year. He zicher doesn’t have right p’shat. He also has a second cousin that goes to YU.

Someone at R’ Tzvi: walking outside without hat and jacket, or coming to shiur after the door is locked…

Mir: Um…

BJJ girl: Marrying a boy from the other Brisk.

Hadar: Not listening to every word Mrs. Orenstein says.

All the Yeshivas with acronyms: AJ, TJ, OJ etc. : Listening to the Rabbis. A definite no-no.

YU: Disparaging The Rav, or referring to Rav Chaim when saying The Rav.

Upper West Side guy before 23: Having sex. So young to give up on finding a true mate.

Upper West Side guy after 23: Taking off your Yarmulka before walking into a bar. What’s there to be ashamed of. Leaving with a girl just shows your straight, that’s cool.

Chabad Dudes: You can do what you like, sleep with how ever many people you like, go to South America on a road trip and not keep Shabbos, but for God’s sake, don’t forget The Rebbe is big stuff, MaMesh.

Chabad Girls: Not liking hooka. A true chabad girl loves nothing more than to spend an evening with 8 mendys a 10 mushkys and 4 hookas.

Liberals, not necessarily Jewish: Not caring about the environment. Not caring about animals. Not being into art. Being homophobic. All terrible things.

Frat Boys: Being into art. So gay. Environment’s cool, anything resembling pop culture is bad.

Upper East Side Ladies: Most of them have plastic surgery once they hit 40 and are still ugly as sin, so being naturally beautiful is a crime. As is not having been married 3 times, robbing the guy of all his money each time. After all, they deserve SOME peace in their lives. Having a child that didn’t attend an ultra-elite prep school is taboo. Going out Saturday night with their lady friends and drinking martinis or vodka tonics is standard.

Hipsters: When they aren’t smoking up and can coherently think, it’s definitely wrong to not know what real music is. Real music is only something that just about all Americans never heard before. It also must have a vinyl edition somewhere out there. Deodorant is optional.

Hot Chanies: Not going to Miami for pesach is worse than the nail salon being closed when you get there. It’s wrong to be in NY over pesach. Very wrong.

This is the perspective of a modern orthodox friend of mine on the issue.
“The Frummy Who Finagled.”
I have firmly held the belief throughout my life that Judaism allows men and women to be able to be in contact with each other. The Torah, though it is male-dominated due to its writing in a time when the world was male-dominated, still has encounters in which unmarried, single man has spoken to and been attracted to unmarried woman, and, though at times it has had negative connotations, (like Dina- she may have flirted a little much with a prince. Bad idea Dina. You never flirt with an entitled teenager) the fact is that male and female conversation is quite common in the Bible, and in no instances does the Bible ban such encounter.
This disclaimer brings me to a CalmKallahs topic in which a Beis Yaakov girl, KEEP READING THERE’S MOAR!

So there’s this girl who wrote into the forum known as CalmKallahs.com completely freaking out. She posted there the following:

“k-i am your typical frum girl in shidduchim-learning guys… i am freaking out and dont know what to do with myself… to make a long story short- i met a guy who i cannot marry- for a lot of reasons-but we liked each other so much and ended up talking, eventually meeting and got physical and recently we had sex. i am flipping out. i never talked to a guy b4 except on dates and dont no what to do…. will i still be able to marry a frum learning boy? am i ruined forever? in my heart i am still a frum bais yaakov girleven tho i know i messed up big time and have not told anyone about this and cant imagine doing so- no one would ever believe it so dont tell me to tell my parents. please help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel so lost and hopeless!!!”

Let me preface by saying I completely understand the world in which she comes from. I came from there too. So it’s not her I think is amazingly lost, but her world. (And my past?)

It’s sad that a community exists that has such issues. A girl kKEEP READING THERE’S MOAR!

Secular Music and Its Genius

Posted: December 20, 2010 in Life Musings
Tags: , , ,

Jewish music has always been a few years behind the rest of the world in sound and style. Boy bands had their hayday a decade ago with the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync. The Chevra pulled a poor copycat act as Justin Timberlake finally went solo. When I was growing up my family always listened to the more traditional stuff like Regesh, Dveikus, Mona Rosenblum and such. Only later did Shwekey come in, and even then my dad wasn’t too fond of some of his stuff, calling it too “goyish.” (I HATE that word!)

You see, my dad was an old-timer and always said music was meant to either uplift a person, or cause them to become meditative, thoughtful and repentant. My cousins convinced their dad that music can be just for entertainment, and more “rocky” music, as was called the more contemporary sounding stuff, was okay. No longer were the Chevra, Shloimy Dachs, Gad Elbaz, Chaim Israel and others considered evil by my uncle.

Yet my Dad held his ground. He still would make grossly exaggerated movements to the latest from Nochum Seigel’s station mocking the “animalistic nature” of the songs. His Rabbi told him that all songs with Strings were completely harmless, songs with wind instruments could go either way, and songs that use drums to do anything more than keep the beat were simply animistic and designed to make you move. The Rabbi said and that even the greatest Hassidic Rabbis adopted songs from famous composers known to be immoral people, but because it was all classical, the intention of the composer did not mater. Go figure.

To him music had to move you closer to God. In one way or another you had to walk away from the song feeling uplifted, wistful or the like.

When the day came that I began listening to normal music as a middle aged teen, I obviously noticed a different style of music. The mixing and arrangements were far more complex, and the recording usually far better quality. Obviously there are songs designed to be as sexual in nature as possible, and there are songs that are about life, about love and about anything else that the artist has on their minds.

Every song is different. Some are meant for pleasant listening, others to let out some anger, others to calm you down, to comfort, to celebrate, or to get hormones going.

And some downright suck.

While it’s true that many Jewish songs are beautiful, there are also many normal songs just as moving, if not more. But that’s besides the point. Because being moved by a slow song is not the only artistic value to music. Intrinsic musical genius is not limited to the harmonious symphony of 60 violins. Musical genius can transcend the actual music and can be determined by what the music DOES for you.

Which brings me right back to where my dad was. Except the problem is he didn’t understand that entertainment DOES something for you.

Heavy metal is just as artistic, in the sense that it can fill you with an emotion you may not have been feeling. Club music can hype you up for a night out. Oldies can be perfect for an afternoon working on your car and drinking beer. They all have artistic value in ways that I think my father and many others like him never saw and probably never will see.

My friend sent this video to me. It’s a new release by The Lonely Island from SNL with Akon called I Just had Sex. It kind of is a sure sign that we have come full circle from the sexual supression of the 50’s…on the other hand is this just too far?  It adds to the Lonely Island Collection Jizz in My pants and I’m on a Boat…It almost reminds me of this video by Spose called I’m Awesome. Either way here it is..lemme know what you think.