the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Month: August 2007 (Page 3 of 4)

The White Suit

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I stand before you naked. 

I go to my closet and pull out carefully protected suit, wrapped in space-age unflammable plastic.  I remove the suit from the garment bag and start to dress.  The suit is white, pure and innocent, perfectly clean. 

I don a white shirt, leaving the two top buttons undone.  It is sexier that way. 

I adjust my pants, making sure that my bulge of my package can be clearly seen by all who pass. 

The final touch, my high heel shoes.  I am now 6’6″ tall.

I am ready.

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Waterloo – I was defeated, you won the war
Waterloo – Promise to love you for ever more
Waterloo – Couldn’t escape if I wanted to
Waterloo – Knowing my fate is to be with you
Waterloo – Finally facing my Waterloo

The is only one event that can bring me out of my recent depression.

Mamma Mia.  The songs of ABBA.  Tonight. 

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Nag

I know many of my female readers are eagerly waiting for Sophia to give me the final boot, so you could grab me as your own personal boy toy. Let me temper that enthusiasm with some reality. One of Sophia’s biggest complaints about me is that I can be a real nag. I have an open mind about most things, but when an action rubs me the wrong way, I get all moralistic and can’t keep my mouth shut. There are some things that I just HATE — like when someone uses an old “Handicapped Parking Card” to park more easily at the mall, or when anyone litters in public. I can go on for hours about how one napkin thrown on the ground can make a Native American stand by the freeway and cry.

I blame the New York public school system for making me into a nag. The teachers were the biggest nags on Earth. Even though “global warming” hadn’t hit it big yet, pollution was on every teacher’s agenda. They made us celebrate “Earth Day.” I don’t remember much geometry, but I do remember my social studies teacher forcing us to write to the Japanese Prime Minister to tell him to stop killing whales. Being a frequent “Citizen of the Month” at school, I ate this stuff up. I was going to change the world, even as a third grader. I scolded my mother about choosing unsafe for dolphins tuna fish. I warned my mother about the freon in the refrigerator. I still nag today about the “trans-fats” in the “low-fat” cookies she eats, which she thinks are healthy. She nags me. I nag her. That’s why we get along so well.

No one likes a nag, but nagging can be an effective tool in getting someone to change their ways (although it hasn’t been very successful with Sophia).

Maybe I need to talk about my nagging when I go to therapy. Who wants a man that nags? Why can’t I just leave people alone to make their own mistakes? I hate when people are annoying to me, asking me why I have an SUV or criticize me for my poor recycling of bottles.

When I was younger, my mother was a social smoker. She hardly smoked at all — maybe one or two cigarettes on the weekend with friends. I was so brainwashed by my anti-smoking teachers that I just nagged her into quitting. I was like Bart Simpson repeating a sentence over and over again until Homer gives in.

“Mom, you know those cigarettes can kill you? Right? Right? And if we breath it in with you, you are killing us, too. Right, right?”

I don’t think my mother touched a cigarette ever again once I got through with her.

I’m actually astounded that so many people still smoke after all these years of bad press and being ostracized by the general public. In LA, you can’t even smoke on the beach!

Every once in a while, I read about one of you smoking a cigarette, usually on the weekend in a bar. I try hard to restrain myself from lecturing you. I don’t want to come off as a humorless prig. My image is that of fun and exciting, not moralistic and dull. And after all, it is your life. But, you do realize, that the second-hand smoke goes into the blogosphere and affects us all? Right? Right?

Sarah from “Sad and Beautiful World” is almost done with her 365 Project on Flickr. She has done amazing work and you should check out her photos.

Here is a photo of Sarah and her husband Pete. How cute they are! But —

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I’m not going to say anything.

(is there anyone else I need to publicly nag?)

Greetings from the Road

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Hi, there.  This is going to be a short post because I’m writing this on the laptop while I’m driving across country.  I took off on Friday to start my road trip.  I’m not sure what this says about the morality of American women, but it is almost TOO easy to accomplish my goal of 50 women, 50 States.

My first stop from California was in Nevada, where I met Jennifer watching the Bellagio “water” show with her girlfriends.  She was in Vegas for her bachelorette party and she was very eager to go for one last fling, especially when she heard my name and recognized it from all those “Best Blogs of the Blogosphere” lists. 

“I’d love to be the first lay on your Road Trip!” she announced.

The sex was amazing.  Her fiancee from back home, Dr. Anderson Traub of Wilmington, Delaware, is one lucky guy, that is if she still does this sort of stuff once she gets married.   After a couple of rounds of intense lovemaking, I gave her some advice about her upcoming wedding. 

“Always remember –” I told her, “that you and Anderson should enjoy the event as much as the guests.  The wedding is for you!”

The best of luck to both of them!   Mazel tov!  

Recently, I had a discussion with Dagny about whether it is appropriate or not to mention the ethnicity of someone in a post.  In Sedona, Arizona, I had an interesting experience.    Does it really matter that Carla was a black woman?  Probably not, but since it was my first experience bedding an African-American, I feel that this information is relevant.   But even more importantly, I certainly think it is essential for you to know that Carla is a massage therapist and KEGELS instructor!   That certainly mattered a lot more in bed than her skin color!  When they say there is a “spiritual vibe” in the red rocks of Sedona, I now know what they are talking about!  I certainly felt my chakras rising!

In Salt Lake City, I took some time out for a little tourism.   The Mormon Temple is beautiful.  And the members of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir truly have voices like angels!  I really appreciated being taken around the church grounds by my lovely tour guide, Sarah.  After sitting through a few videos about her religion, she was more than willing to go out with me for some ice cream (she doesn’t drink and Salt Lake City has a lot of great ice cream making up for the lack of bars).   As we enjoyed the sweets, I told her about my Road Trip, and she was so excited about participating  Utah rocks!  She was a lot of fun and a great conversationalist.  Ironically — I thought this was amusing — the only sex position she doesn’t like is… the missionary one.

Despite the good times, I’m feeling a little down.  I’m having some doubts about the whole enterprise.  Once I accomplish it all, will there be anything to show for it?   Will this be the biggest accomplishment of my life?  Will I be like Gary Coleman or Todd Bridges, always looking back to the one sitcom they were in, knowing they never could achieve the same greatness?

And — I hate to bring up this mushy stuff — but what about love?  Romance?  Sure, there is something intriguing about bedding 50 women in 50 states?  But isn’t there something a little superficial about the idea?  I can see maybe going to Hawaii and having sex with some lonely busineswoman for the night, but ALL 50 States?  Is this what our Founding Fathers really had in mind with the concept of ONE country, indivisible?

Where does love come into play with all this?  Wouldn’t it be better to turn back, go into therapy, and try to make a REAL relationship work?

“No!  Do not turn back!” said a German-sounding voice.

“Who is this?”

“This is Doctor Sigmund Freud, talking to you from the beyond!  You must continue on with your quest!”

“Sigmund Freud my ass.  That is the worst attempt at an accent EVAH, Penis.”

“You can’t turn back now.  You’re doing so well!”  said my Penis.  “The last three days have been terrific!  This is the best trip we ever went on together!”

“What about the time we went to Cooperstown with my parents?”

“You’re a moron, Neilochka.   We couldn’t even masturbate that weekend because you were afraid of the parents walking in.”

“What about all the cool baseball stuff we saw at the museum.  And remember that female docent? That was the first time I  saw a woman not wearing a bra.”

“That’s right!  And she kept on talking about Joe Dimaggio’s big bat!   Boner-time   Ha Ha.   We were so immature back then!”

“That was a long long time ago.”

“Her name was Tracey.” said my Penis.

“The docent from Cooperstown?  You remember her name, Penis?”

“Not only that!  I googled her name and found out she now lives in Austin, Texas.”

“Why did you do that?

“Because we’re turning this car around and going to Texas to find Tracey.  Ride ’em, Cowgirl!”

“This woman must be like sixty years old by now?”

“So? I don’t see any problem with that!”

Dear Reader:  Please help me!  Should I listen to my Penis and continue onto Texas

or

should I turn back like a rational person, find a good therapist, and focus on a real relationship?

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:   The Sidewalk of Love

This Week’s Closing Credits

See you all on Monday! I’m going to be doing household chores all weekend, and thinking about my future.

I hope you all had a great time reading “Citizen of the Month” this week. I enjoyed being here with you, and I loved your wonderful comments. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with your blogs as frequently lately. Give me another week or so to get my head on straight. You can always send me an email and say hello!

I’d like to thank the rest of the cast — Sophia, my mother, my talking Penis, and even my late father, who still shows up every once in a while. Have a great weekend and I’ll see you all again on Monday. I’m sure next week, there will be plenty more wacky adventures, important cultural issues discussed, and even some heartfelt tears here on “Citizen of the Month.”

And now, here are this week’s closing credits:

Your “Get Laid In Every State” Trip Inspired Me, Man!

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What makes the blogosphere so special is that we are here for each other, to share each other’s joys and pains, and to make each individual feel a little less alone.

Today’s Good Samaritan is “Nilo.”  I may not know him personally, but today we have bonded in a very special way.  Here is an email I just received concerning my dream of “visiting” all 50 States:

The “Get Laid in Every State” Trip

Neilochka —

You inspired me, man!

Being that I’ve been a mapper by trade, I decided to draw up a little suggested route for you, steering you as close to the more heavily populated cities in most states, and then just barely dipping you into others.

Let me know what you think…

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California –  LA Area        
Arizona  –  Phoenix  
Nevada  –  Las Vegas  
Utah  –  Salt Lake City   
Idaho  - Pocatello, Boise  
Oregon  –  Portland 
Washington - Seattle, Spokane 
Montana – Missoula, Butte, Bozeman  
Wyoming - Casper   
Colorado -  Cheyenne   
New Mexico  – Albuquerque   
Texas  - El Paso, Abilene, Fort Worth, Dallas  
Oklahoma  – Oklahoma City   
Kansas  –  Wichita, Kansas City   
Missouri  –  Kansas City   
Iowa  - Des Moines   
Nebraska - Omaha   
South Dakota - Sioux Falls   
North Dakota - Fargo   
Minnesota  -Minneapolis   
Wisconsin - Madison, Milwaukee   
Illinois -  Chicago   
Indiana   Indianapolis   
Michigan  - Ann Arbor, Detroit   
Ohio -  Toledo, Cleveland   
West Virgina - Charleston   
Kentucky - Lexington, Louisville   
Tennessee  – Nashville   
Arkansas - Little Rock   
Louisiana - Shreveport, Baton Rouge, New Orleans   
Mississippi - Jackson, Biloxi   
Alabama - Mobile,  Montgomery, Birmingham   
Georgia  - Atlanta, Savannah   
Florida -  Orlando, Daytona Beach, Jacksonville   
South Carolina - Columbia   
North Carolina –  Charlotte , Raleigh   
Virginia -  Richmond   
Washington DC  Washington   
Maryland  - Baltimore   
Pennsylvania - Philadelphia   
New Jersey  – Jersey City   
New York - New York City   
Connecticut - Bridgeport, Hartford   
Rhode Island - Providence   
Massachussets - Boston   
Maine -  Portland   
New Hampshire - Manchester   
Vermont -  Burlington

~Nilo

Nil0 —

I am touched beyond words.   I hope this proves to the women of BlogHer that men care about each other!    I think your mapping skills are excellent.  Have you tried applying for a job at Rand McNally?  You would be great.  And chicks love a man who is confident in his directions.

I will need to look over your map some more.  I’m still concerned about some of the weather issues down south.   And, dude, where’s Alaska and Hawaii?  Are they chopped liver?   I also have some problems with hitting Orlando and Jacksonville, and skipping South Florida?  What am I going to do in Orlando — f**k Minnie Mouse?   Jacksonville over Miami Beach?  Have you been to Jacksonville?  Are you crazy?  I have relatives in Boca Raton anyway, so I would probably do a little visiting in the middle of the “getting laid” trip.

But, all in all, this is much appreciated, man!

— Neil

(Update from Nilo — Crap.  I forgot Delaware.  So you go from Baltimore to Dover to Philadelphia instead.)

(This is a real email.  At first I thought Nilo was a fake — “Nilo?” — but he actually has a real email address.  But a mapper by trade???!)

Fifty States, Fifty Positions

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Today, I stop being depressed.  I do this by coming up with a plan.  I have decided to look at the positive side of things.  If things fall through with Sophia, I will see the opportunity,  and not the regret.   I will focus on my FREEDOM to be who I WANT to be and to DO what I want to do!

Let me speak to my male blogging friends directly:

I know that many of you are married with children.  I am happy for you.   You are living lives of comfort.   But we both know the truth — you have sacrificed your dreams in accepting this marital bliss.  You have gained a wife’s soft bosom and the joy of a child’s laughter, but it has required a compromise — you have packed your dreams in the dusty attic of your mind, never to be seen again.

I understand.  I was once JUST LIKE YOU, content just to be able to play with a woman’s breasts ANY TIME I wanted to (well, accept before 8AM or during periods)!  Who wouldn’t become complacent under those conditions? 

But I am lucky.   Show no pity for me concerning my situation with Sophia.  This might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

My plan now is to LIVE MY DREAM.   It may be too late for you, my married male blogger friends, but you can certainly help me plan my dream.  Maybe you can live your dream vicariously through me.

I’ll probably end up back in Los Angeles to live, but I thought of going to New York for a while and visiting my mother… maybe even check things out there while I get some therapy.   I was going to fly there, but then I had an idea — why don’t I just drive across this great country of ours?   Then came inspiration!   It was like the stars converged over my head, giving me the opportunity to accomplish my life-long dream —

— yes, getting laid by a different woman in all fifty states. 

Why settle for just one when America offers so much variety?!

All men have this dream,  but how many of us get to achieve it?  We always get bogged down with marriage and babies and cleaning out the garage!

Not me!

I’ve had a slow start.  I’ve only had sex in two states.  Sure, they are the most populous — New York and California, but even Barak Obama can’t win the election with just two states under his belt. (wait a minute:  I think there was one time in Vermont.  I just don’t remember if I made it through the actual “sex” part).

Men, here’s where you can help.  What do you think would be the best route to accomplish all 50 states from California to New York?  I’m not really sure how to program the GPS for this type of information?  How much time should I take in each state?  Remember, I need to drive in town, get a hotel, meet someone, AND get laid — all before I move on to the next state.  Do you think I will need the same amount of time in red states as blue states?  So far, I don’t have any specific plans.  The only “sure-shot” I know about is Blogger X in New Jersey, but she is mad at me right now for not reading her blog lately.  I guess I can always tell her that “I read it in Bloglines!”   Women buy any excuse, right, guys?!

Back to the planning phase.  I will need to also hit Hawaii and Alaska.  Do you think I should hit Hawaii first for the lei, since fares from LAX are pretty reasonable?  I’m also debating whether I should go the southern route via the Gulf States first — before we get too far into the hurricane season.   I’ll probably wait until it is colder before I make the Northern States.  I’m figuring that by then, women will probably be hornier and more desperate, especially around the time of the Christmas parties and New Year’s Eve.

What do you think?  Will it take that long or can I wrap this up by Columbus Day?

Men, I really hope that I can be an inspiration to you.  If I can impart any wisdom to you, it is “Don’t Let Women Rule Your Life — Always Follow Your Dream.”

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:   Mel Gibson Arrested for DUI

How A Man Knows When He is Feeling Depressed

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Sorry about all these ranting BlogHer posts lately.   Making I just feel like being passive-aggressive to women in general since I saw the photos from the conference and everyone there looks like they have such nice tits and asses… like you know who with the Russian accent… who really is very blessed with those things… so it’s like you’re all on the same team. 

Since this blog is quickly tranforming from a humor blog into something else, I think I should admit that I’m feeling a little depressed today.  How do I know I’m feeling this way?  Well, I just saw this photo of Jessica Alba a minute ago online and all I could think about was “What the hell is she wearing — a diaper?” 

Now I feel bad because they are probably some super-sexy type of panties and I have no idea what they are called.  

But, just to be positive, maybe one day I will experience a woman wearing those panties.    Maybe even Sophia.  But if it isn’t Sophia, let me request it right now — in case I end up dating someone in the future,  maybe after a few months of therapy.   Maybe not on the first date, because I’m still not sure whether I like these diaper-looking panties or not.  But maybe during the fifth or sixth date, you can wear one of these type of panties, just for the variety, and so I can blog about it.

Everyone is Welcome!

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I really like Mocha Momma’s take on BlogHer, in her post “Inclusion and Exclusion.”  I’ve always been obsessed with this subject — inclusion and exclusion.   Maybe that’s why I’ve been writing so much about BlogHer — a blogging group that is about enpowerment, but also about inclusion AND exclusion.

Or maybe I’m still hurt about not being picked for the sixth grade softball team until last. 

As a child of the 1970s, social studies classes were all about feminism and civil rights, so my early education made this a central theme to my life.  In the olden times, people were not subtle.  There were signs that said “no blacks or Jews or women allowed.”  Those signs are long gone.  Now, every organization needs to be open to everyone else… at least in the public arena.  

BlogHer is great for women.  I just thought it was amusing how much effort was spent by some commenters telling me that men were happily welcome!  The FAQ actually says:

YES! Men are welcome to attend, and many do. About 25% of attendees are male.

25%?  So, where are all the men in the countless photos on Flickr?  Were they all in the lounge watching the Cubs playing on the TV?

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(via the imperfect mom)

I think it would be better to not even allow men at all.  What happens if 3/4 of the participants become men?  Will it still be called BlogHer?

One of my very first posts was about how the Beverly Center in Los Angeles didn’t carry any clothes for women over a size 10-12.   At first, I thought this was because of an image of hipness and youth, but when I thought about it some more, the reason seemed more about inclusion and exclusion.   Since so many regular black and Mexican women are larger sizes, the lack of clothes in their size would keep them away — making the Beverly Center more “upscale” and less ethnic.   Let “them” shop at Target.   Sophia, who is a size 14, was actually told by the Macy’s sales clerk to go to the Fox Hills Mall, where the clientele was more African-American.   Of course, anyone is welcome to come to the Beverly Center — but if you are size 16, there will be nothing there catering to you! 

Izzy Mom is a popular mommyblogger who attended BlogHer.  She had such a good time that she is setting up a mini get-together called Mommycon!

Of course, “you don’t have to be a mom to join in the fun!”

Again, it sounds like a great idea, but I’m beginning to think that modern etiquette requires that everyone practice exclusiveness AND inclusiveness at the same time. 

Remember, this Saturday — The first Los Angeles meet-up of “Attractive Wealthy Men with Hot Trophy Wives” — but other men who don’t fit this description are welcome to show up.  Don’t feel uncomfortable or anything.   We are glad to have you hang with us.  Really.  Seriously.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  My Interview

Three Tidbits from This Morning

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8AM —

Every morning, when I turn my IM on, I see Alissa online, probably from her office.  She can see me online at the same time.  For weeks, we just stared at each other, neither wanting to bother the other.  I knew she was there and she knew that I was there.  Eventually, it just made me feel uncomfortable.  It was time to take some action —

Neil (via IM):  “Alissa, we have to do something about this.  We both see each other.  We both know we’re online.  It just seems rude to not say anything.  Isn’t there some sort of IM etiquette that we can follow?”

Alissa:  “I don’t think so.”

We came up with a plan.  We decided it was OK to say “Hello… but now I’m going to ignore you,” the online equivalent of the friendly, but superficial “hello” you might get from someone in the office.

It works for us.  I think we should all use this technique when we go on IM.  Isn’t it better to say, “Hi, but I’m now going to ignore you,” rather than just ignoring someone in silence?

8:30AM —

While in Starbucks this morning, I sat next to two guys reading the sports section of the LA Times… about Barry Bonds.   Dodger Stadium has been sold out this week because the Giants are in town and Barry Bonds is just one home run away from tying the record of Hank Aaron.  But so far, Bonds hasn’t hit any home runs in Los Angeles.

Guy #1:   “I think the Dodgers are doing it on purpose… throwing bad pitches at him.”
Guy #2:   “Yeah?”
Guy#1:    “It is Major League Baseball. The guys in power don’t want Barry Bonds to succeed. They don’t want him to hit a home run.”
Guy #2:   “The steroids thing?”
Guy#1:   “Nah. It’s because he’s black. And they don’t want to a black man to be the record-holder.”

9AM —

I think it is apparent that I’m a little down over my situation with Sophia.  I’ve been trying to think positive thoughts, like in “The Secret,” hoping that laws of attraction will bring me some good news.  When I came back from Starbucks, I heard Sophia calling to me from upstairs:

“Neil, you got a call from CBS!”

“CBS?!” I asked myself,  “What could this mean?  Is CBS reading my blog and now they want to offer me a sitcom based on my life?  Do they want to hire me to be a writer?  As a producer?  Do they want to sponsor BlogHim and make it into a reality show, with me as the host?

I ran upstairs, three steps at a time, reaching Sophia in five seconds flat. I was out of breath.

“CBS called?  What did they say?  What did they want?!”

“CBS called?” asked Sophia. “No.  I said CVS called.  Your cholesterol medicine is ready.”

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Los Angeles: The Glamorous Life

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