the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: BlogHim

Is Male Personal Blogging Still a Radical Act? (BlogHim 08′ Recap)

BlogHim 08′ in New York City was a phenomenal success.  Although we had no sponsors like Blogher, no swag (Dockers had promised to supply us with some free giveaways, but never came through), and received no attention from the media or kindly General Motors, we all had a great time meeting up with old blogging friends.  And isn’t that what blogging is all about?

Two male bloggers discussing ways to increase their readership.

BlogHim had no money to pay for a hotel conference room, so most of the sessions took place at Neil’s Coffee Shop on Lexington.  Participants really enjoyed the free coffee refills and the way the waiteress said “Be right with you, Hon.”

One of the most popular BlogHim sessions was about new ways for Daddybloggers to monetize their children.  There was a good deal of heated discussion.  Many men were angry that the Mommybloggers received all the free Wiis. 

“We just get the viagra ads” said one Daddyblogger.  “Why do marketers think that because we have children we can’t get it up anymore?”

Barry, a male “Alpha” blogger from Tennessee asked the one question that was on every Daddyblogger’s mind.  “What was the point of having children if you can’t make money off of them on your blog?”

But it was Andrew “TexasDad” who came up with the answer, inspiring the crowd with his keynote speech, “Why Daddyblogging is a Still a Radical. Act”

“We are men.  We must use our logical male minds and think out of the box!  Why go the same route as the the women?  Are we men or a bunch of pussies?  If we are unable to monetize our children with our daddyblogs, let’s follow another path.  Let’s force our children to run a marathon in Central Park when it is a 100 degrees outside and BET ON THEM like a horse race!”

It was just then that the Guy Kawasaki Challenge was born!

The daughters did us especially proud!  Some of us made a ton of money from the betting pool.

The highlight of the day was when the sons raced.   These young men are the underappreciated male personal bloggers of the future, so we pushed them extra hard.  Some of the more clever Daddybloggers even told their sons that they were going to abandon them and leave them in New York if they didn’t win!

It was hilarious to see how much pressure was put on the wimpier boys and to watch them fall in frustration!

The weekend consisted of one fabulous session after another, all catered to the male blogger.  On this weekend, we were ALL Alpha Male Bloggers:

Session One:  “Why You Should Never Share Anything with a Woman”

Session 2:  “Dog Pee is bad for the Environment, But Even Al Gore Pees in the Shower.”

Session 3:  “Question Authority”

Session 4:  “Why a Really Nice Piece of Ass is Better than a Good Humor Bar”

Thanks all!  See you Next Year at BlogHim 09!  Remember — Keep your chins up and your c*cks hard.   We are MEN!

Sex in the Male City (in honor of BlogHim ’08)

New York City may have nine million residents, but it is a small town when it comes to meeting available women.  Or at least so it seems when we go out on the town. 

At a half past ten, I was dressed to the nines and entering Maxwell’s, located on the corner of Right Now And Everyone Was There.  On a normal night, I would never make it within ten feet of the velvet rope, but ropes seem to jump by themselves with a friend like Robb.  He is what Glenn would call “a trifecta” — a high-profile attorney, one of the Manhattan’s most eligible bachelors according to New York Magazine, and currently representing the daughter of the biggest real estate developer on the Upper East side, in a nasty divorce case that makes it to Page Six as frequently as she has gotten DUIs in the Hamptons.

So, there we were, in Maxwell’s, four attractive single men, Robb -the lawyer, Jake – the ultra-successful financial analyst, who never said no to a nice pair of legs, but always dropped her as fast as a T-bill in his money market account, Glenn – the former ballplayer, now a sought-after commercial artist, the only man I ever met who had slept with seven different women in one week, but who secretly would throw everything away just to become a stay at home dad, and me – the under-employed writer, currently living with his nice Jewish mother.

I spent much of the night thinking about Atlas, and how he struggled to hold the world up, despite his powerful arms.  What does friendship really mean to me and my friends?  Are we like four Atlases?    Would we always be there to help each other hold up our own little worlds? 

Of course, our conversation in Maxwell’s revolved less about Greek Mythology then our favorite topic — male shoes and fashion.

“Hey, Neil, my main man, are those Dockers you’re wearing?”  asked Glenn, admiring the fit.

“F**k no,” I answered.  “I wouldn’t wear those piece of sh*t pants again after the Docker/Levi Strauss Company screwed me with that “free flight” that ruined my going to BlogHer.”

A gorgeous model sashayed by, catching our attention.  This was not just any model.  This was Ashley Maran, the latest cover model in Vogue.  Our conversation quickly turned to our second favorite conversation — the fairer sex.

“I’m breaking up with Annie,” said Robb, batting first, hitting us with a foul ball.

None of us were surprised, but we were a bit sad — we actually liked Annie.  She was a Mets fan.  So, we pressed him for more info.

“One of the reasons I was initially attracted to her was because she is a dentist.  I figured — a dentist, oral sex, a perfect match.   But she gave the worst blowjobs I ever had.  How can you explain that?  She even used her teeth!”

We all cringed in pain.

“Didn’t they teach her about this in dental school?”

We all agreed that this was a legitimate reason for dumping her like a third-rate draft pick, even if she did like the Mets.

Jake had oral problems of his own.  Jake had been dating a busty stock broker from Goldman Sachs, and apparently she was bullish on him going down on her.

“That’s all she wants.  Apparentlly, she can only have an orgasm through oral sex.   I mean she’s been going to therapy for years because of this.”

We all agree that Jake was practically a Mother Theresa for sticking around with this woman for longer than he ever has with anyone else — nearly three weeks.

“You know me, I’m eager to help out.” said Jake.  “I drive you guys to the airport whenever you need me.  But not driving my c*ck between her thighs is torture. ”

Jake looked like he was near tears.  Robb gave him a sympathetic hug.

“I can’t sit there for two hours with my tongue doing all the work,” Jake continued.  “I’ve lost ten pounds this month because my jaw hurts so much, I’m too tired to chew any food.”

After we all consoled Jake, It was now Glenn’s turn on the witness stand.

“I sometimes wish I could just settle down, have a child, and become a stay at home daddy.”

For years, I never understood Glenn’s fantasy of being a SAHD.  Here he was, a big success with a fancy Soho condo, women up the wazoo – and he wants to throw it all away?  For what?  For dirty diapers and daddy blogging?   But New York can do that to you.  It gets at you.  It wears you down.

“I just want to meet the right woman.”  said Glenn, sighing.  “But it feels as if the only women over thirty in New York are either taken, unable to commit, lesbian, or trans-gendered men.”

“What about Lisa?” asked Jake. 

For the last month, Glenn had been seeing Lisa, the cute V.P of this hip new internet marketing firm in Chelsea.

She’s very passionate, but a little too short.” said Glenn.

“Short?  What are you talking about?” asked Jake.

“Well, I mean she’s compact.  She’s 5’2″, and when we are in bed… and I’m a big guy, so… uh…”

“Are you saying your d*ck is too big for her p*ssy?” asked Robb.

Glenn nodded.

“Has this ever happened to any of you?” he asked.

“Of course” we all said, nodding, as if this was a frequent problem in our lives.

Finally, it was my time to be grilled, like salmon filet at Tavern on the Green.  I could feel the guys looking at me as closely as they would a brunette’s tight ass as she climbed on the Stairmaster at the Crunch Gym in Tribeca.

“What about you, Neil?” asked Robb.  “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.  You getting any action in Queens?”

I think it was Isaac Bashevis Singer who said, “The best stories come out of the daily experiences of your own life.”  So, I took the writer’s advice.

“Well, I went to McDonald’s for a cup of coffee and as I was drinking it, I got a major hard-on.”

“Was the girl at the counter really hot?” asked Jake.

“No,” I said.  “I think they just added too much sugar.”

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Glenn changed the subject.

“Have you heard from Ms. Big?” asked Glenn.

The others looked at each other, concerned.  Was it too soon to bring up the name of Ms. Big?

“I IM-ed with Sophia last night.  She’s in LA.”

They all were eager to know what she said.

“Well, she sent me this message: 

 “You should start seeing someone there.” 

I said, “A woman?” 

She wrote back, “A man or a woman.” 

I answered, “A man or a woman?!  I don’t get it.  Are you saying I should start seeing someone — like going on a date?” 

She said, “No.  I meant you should start seeing a therapist in New York.””

My three friends laughed.  But it was OK.  I know that if I were Atlas, and had to hold up the world with my skinny arms, they would be at my side, helping me carry the weight.

Update:  BlogHim 08′ recap

A Little Disappointed

I am a little disappointed that I didn’t go to BlogHer.  I wish the real reason is that I felt too cool for it, like Woody Allen not going to the Oscars.   Or that the conference is really for women.  Or that all the marketing and networking is not my cup of tea.  When I sit down and think about it honestly, this is my theory:

I don’t feel emotional stable enough to deal with meeting a hundred people for the first time right now — all in one swoop.  I’d rather not meet some of you in person, then quickly chat with you for five minutes at a cocktail party before I move on to someone else.  It would just make me feel sad.

I met Caitlin and her husband, Billy, for pizza in Manhattan on Monday.  We talked for several hours, then took the subway together on our ways back home.  I really enjoyed that.

I chatted with SarcasticMom and Jane Devin last night.  I really enjoyed that. 

I dreamt about someone last night.  I really enjoyed that.

This weekend on Citizen of the Month:  Time again for the third annual BlogHim.  (BlogHim 2006, BlogHim 2007)

They Can’t Destroy BlogHim

(the new banner, created by Sween. thanks, brother!)

It was a devious plan, devised by the head honchos at BlogHer to destroy BlogHim, and they used their most seductive Mata Haris to tempt me… and the plan almost worked.

Last night, I went to a reading of Leahpeah’s other group, LA Angst, where writers read from their childhood and teenage year journals. I participated in her blog reading night, but this sounded even more interesting. It was fascinating stuff because it was so raw and “real.” These pieces of writing, hidden away in sock drawers for years, were never meant to be seen by anyone other than the author. For some reason, all of the readers were female, and most of the readings were about boys, weddings, and food.

So, not much has changed!

I really enjoyed the evening. Thank you:

Leah from Leahpeah

Kelly from Mocha Mama

Erin from Queen of Spain

Lara from Katronika

Ruth from Redleather

Kelly from West Coast Grrlie Blather

Heather from Heathervescent

I sat next to LA blogger, Jay, and we talked a bit about “journaling” from a male perspective. We decided that keeping a diary as a teenager was more of a “girl thing.” I never kept a diary. Maybe boys aren’t very introspective at that age. Now I understand why women take to blogging so easily — you gals have been writing about yourselves for years! Honestly, if I knew that no one was reading my blog, I would stop writing it tomorrow. More power to you!

After the reading, a few of us walked to a nearby Mexican restaurant. I had a chance to speak with four of the readers: Leah, Mocha Mommy, Queen of Spain, and Katronika. They were all such funny, cool, and sexy women, that I mostly shut up and listened to what they had to say. I learned so much from them (for instance, if you are a woman, you should run out and buy The Cone immediately. Your vibrator is like a child’s toy compared to this!)


Men definitely need to listen to women more. That’s how you find out all their secrets (because they love to blab!)

At some point, someone brought up my BlogHim idea. I was a little worried about the reaction from these prominent blogging women because Mocha Mommy is attending the conference, Leah is a speaker at BlogHer, and the Queen of Spain is creating a online version of the conference on Second Life.

At first, I was surprised how polite everyone was about my idea for BlogHim and the way I was making fun of BlogHer. There was no arguing at all. Queen of Spain politely told me about the importance of BlogHer and how it is empowering women as bloggers. The discussion started out completely friendly. But, then the mood changed. The others insisted that I change my combative stance against BlogHer. When I still had questions about the increasingly corporate sponsorship of the organization, the women chose another method of getting their point across. One by one, they took me into the women’s restroom, and had their way with me against the baby-diaper changing table, bringing me to the point of no return, but then pulling back and forcing me to repeat these words before they finished, “I love and respect BlogHer and will never say anything bad about the group again.” Clearly, the BlogHer organizers have prepared their “troops” to use whatever means possible to gain dominion over the blogosphere, and to silence the dissenters.

I was very tired when I returned home. Drunk and tired.

“You’re home late,” said Sophia.

“Oh, yeah. Boys night out.”

“You received this email while you were gone.”

The email was from the illustrator whose image I used for the bare-chested BlogHim icon on the banner. Even though, I gave him credit, I never asked his permission, and he wanted me to stop using it for promotional purposes. I know… I know… I suck and I was a thief. I should have asked him first. The illustrator was totally right and I don’t blame him at all.

But don’t you think it was a LITTLE coincidental that my BlogHim icon was “sabotaged” at the same time I was out with the BlogHer “spies?” I did think it was a little unusual that Leah invited me to join the women for drinks? Was this part of the plan? Was Sophia involved? Was it the male illustrator’s own decision to not let me use his drawing, or was HE taken into some restroom in his own city and “brainwashed” in the way only a well-trained BlogHer woman can do it. How far do the tentacles of this organization reach?

Well, I will not be brought down by some nice smelling Mata Haris with nice cleavage and comfortable shoes. I will NOT sell out my fellow men for some cheap sex in the restroom of a overpriced Mexican restaurant. BlogHim will survive! Uh, nice female mommyblogger, can you make me a new banner?

P.S. — By the way, I think what Queen of Spain is doing with BlogHer is really cool. She is helping them put the conference on Second Life, which is a virtual world online, so women can participate without having to go to Chicago. Check it out!

Every Day is Men’s Day


When I was a child, I used to ask my mother on Mother’s Day, “When is Children’s Day?” and she would give the tried-and-true answer, “Every day is Children’s Day.”

I was perusing through some blogs this morning, and noting all the buttons and links, and how so many of them are female-centric, like BlogHer and Blogging Chicks. I once wrote a silly post about what I thought BlogHim would be like, but today I thought about the subject in a more serious manner. Why do women feel so comfortable teaming up together, while men like to go it alone (or at least fake that they do)? For a second, I thought of starting a Blogging Guys group, but then I realized — I would be the last person to want to join it.

Is it because “Every day is Men’s Day” in this “patriarchal society” and men don’t need to join together — or are men just uncomfortable with each other and fear looking unmanly?  Is it any wonder that women can talk for hours together, complimenting each other on their shoes, hair, and bodies, while men are more comfortable talking with their penises than talking with other men?

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Neilochka’s Favorite Things 2005

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