Category Archives: masculinity

Family traditions; welcome home baby

Ton 2.0 brought his son home today. Another healthy squaling man child for the Clan Ton. I didn’t go see the boy in the hospital. Not my scene these days, but we left for his place shortly after we got the call and let ourselves in we when got there. We did the typical shit one would expect, drank up his best bourbon, fornicated on his kitchen table, took care of his pets, cleaned up the house and cooked a shit ton of food.

There are things that matter more then life to Clan Ton. I learned these things from my father and his father like they learned them from theirs. Well them and our uncle’s, brothers and what not. When my father brought me home to present me to his father I was laid in a bed with a Confederate flag, an 1858 Remington, a King James Bible and some sliver dollars. I still have that photo. But these are things we value, the Old South and all it stands for, freedom and fire power, hard money and the hard ways of the Almighty.

So when Ton4.0 made it home, my boy brought him to me. This small 8 pound bundle of fragile perfection. Full of potential and promise, not weighted down by failure, regert or tye burdens of life. I held him up, said the same Bible versus we always say and laid him down on my son’s bed. Dead in the center of our stars and bars, silver dollars, King James Bible and our forefather’s Remington.

Of course I Tonierized somethings. I bought the boy some fireworks, a bottle of whisky, a Ford hat, a Harley Davidson onesie, a Henry lever action .22 and a gift certificate for a free pit bull tattoo. Of course the gift certificate is fake, but Ton4.0’s mother has more of a sense of humor then I figured.

These things are symbols, they all mean more then the surface image and they are all traditions. A firearm is more then a tool, it’s your sovereignty as Man. Silver is more then hard money vs fiat dollars. It’s wealth based on reality and the opposition to magic thinking. If the Old South has an official dog, the pit bull is it. Loyal, relentless and called the nanny dog for generations.

Some traditions need to die. Plowing with mules makes no damn sense. With any luck Ton2.0 is the last get from my family. Sometimes new traditions come about. My father and grandfather rode Harleys, same with me and Ton2.0. A goodly amount of having traditions is to reproduce the kind of men and women your family is proud of

I do have a point besides bragging about another grandson. On occasions I hear men bitch about the lack of traditions. Society moves on and change is one of life’s constants, but you have only yourself to blame for allowing your family traditions to die. Only yourself to blame for not creating some. My boys will learn their family’s history, they’ll learn to ride fast, shoot straight and always report the truth. They will know how to hunt, how to fish, and what their forefathers intended to leave behind before yankees fucked shit up. These things are timeless and you can take them where ever you go.  I won’t be around to teach my son’s or grandsons these things but I have full faith in Ton2.0 that our family and our traditions will be projected into the next generation

Alpha in music from the gash’s point of view

 

Hate Myself For Loving You”

Midnight, gettin’ uptight, where are you?
You said you’d meet me, now it’s quarter to two
I know I’m hangin’ but I’m still wantin’ you
Hey Jack, it’s a fact they’re talkin’ in town
I turn my back and you’re messin’ around
I’m not really jealous, don’t like lookin’ like a clown
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Uh

Daylight, spent the night without you
But I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout the lovin’ you do
I’m over being angry ’bout the hell you put me through
Hey, man, bet you can treat me right
You just don’t know what you was missin’ last night
I wanna see you begging, say forget it just for spite
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Huh

I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself
I hate myself for loving you

In the intrest of full disclosure, Joan Jett use to make my motor run something ferice

Game Dog Game, humility and who to trust, how far to trust him

A man should have Game. No, not talking about picking up bitches sort of game. Game Dog Game, an innate desire to cross the ring in order to destroy the other guy, ignoring pain, exhaustion, fear and injury. I promise you, if you have Game Dog kind of  Game picking up bitches ain’t going to be a problem. A dog with Game will do this for an hour if that’s what it takes.  Ultimately a man should have “Dead Game”; the desire to keep fighting and trying to kill/ win/ succeed despite being mortally wounded yourself.

Some Game Dogs are barnstormers, meaning they come out of the gate and quickly kill or incapacitate the other dog. They are bad ass, but do they have Game?  Are they ever really tested? This lack of being tested means you have no idea if they have Game or not but everyone loves barnstormers. There is something heroic and thrilling about barnstormers which draws the soul.

My dog Boy is a barnstormer.  When we pulled him out of a fighting kennel, Boy was already retired and in their breeding program, without much in the way of scaring. That is pretty good indication he ran through 3-5 other dogs quickly. My old neighbors thought their dogs were bad ass and they didn’t need to keep their mutts out of Boy’s yard. They rolled up into Boy’s yard while he was chilling in the warm sun. He killed those other dogs out right. It would take me more time to tell the story then it did for Boy to get his job done and the only doctoring he needed afterward was a bath and some hydrogen peroxide. That’s a barnstormer, and it’s bad ass to behold but has Boy’s Game ever really been tested?

My Lady Pit has Game. She is down for pretty much anything. She is happy to jump on the bike and ride, she is thrilled to be on the boat with me, she especially loves the truck and off roading. That’s a low level of Game but it’s there. She loves to hunt and will be hunting pigs with me before long. Thats another level of Gane. She is happy to see friendly people, she is quick as quick gets to stand between us and whatever/ who ever she doesn’t like. She dislikes the lawn mower and will attack it on sight. Funny as hell but a pain in the ass too. More Game. Took her to my buddy’s farm and she suddenly remembered her genetic purpose and went after his bull. The bull sent her flying and as soon as she stopped bouncing she was up and after the bull again. I said she has Game. Didn’t say she was smart but on a more serious note we have a 5 foot or so alligator that likes to hang out on our side of the river. Not big enough to be much of a threat to an adult but plenty big enough to eat her or harm a child. My Lady Pit hates that thing with a burning passion. She is always on the look out for the gator and chases it off when ever she sees it. That’s Game

My dog Girl has Dead Game. Shoot that bitch and she will still run your ass out of the house. That’s how she came to me. I trust my family’s safety to her. I send my Girls and sons on the road or leave them behind with no real concern about men harming them because Girl will not fail to act, even if all she does is buy them time with her life. That’s Dead Game.

See the difference? Some men are barnstormers, some few have Dead Game, a goodly number have Game to vary degreess and a bunch are just prey.

Never trust prey. Ever. They will get you killed, rat you out or fuck you over when the suck shows up. Lucky for us, it’s pretty damn easy to tell prey.

A man with Game can be trusted to whatever extent he has Game. Determining how much Game a man has is tricky bidness outside military life. I know the police and fire academies test for Game. Sports are a test of Game but doesn’t seem to me most boys and men are tested very often or particularly hard.

A man with Dead Game can be trusted. However he is human and will fuck up. Nice thing about men with Dead Game is when they break your trust it’s due to extrene circumstances, or a fuck up not a fuck over. One can be forgiven, the other should never be forgotten

A barnstormer? Who knows? Maybe he has been tested, maybe he hasn’t. I would watch barnstormers the closest.  It’s diffcult to see if men like this have Game because they tend to over come obstacles with ease. It’s natural to trust barnstormers, something about human nature draws us to them, human or k9 version. I suggest you show extra caution with trusting such men.

In all things be patient and wise until it’s time to act, then hit hard, fast and while the other guy ain’t looking.  Figuring out who to trust, how far to trust them and what to trust them with is no different. Slow your roll, wait, observe, weigh their actions.

 

Way back when I was a young Ranger, we had this fat kid in our fireteam. Fat Kid had Game. That fat fuck never once gave up. He probably came in last place on just about everything we were rated on but he always made the standard, no matter what it cost him. Fat Kid never fell out of a road march or run. Even when he broke 3 toes and had 8 clicks to walk.  Fat Kid had Dead Game and as much as we ragged on him for being a fat pain in the ass, the man never gave up and always kept his shit tight when things got bad. You could trust Fat Kid with your life and we did. He was a soild dude

Finding out who has Game is the function of pretty much every non occupation producing military school there is. And most sports worth the name test a man’s Game. Conventional military units are tested much less then SOCOM units but they are tested and there is the tier system within SOCOM. Pee-Wee wrestling tests a boys Game, the Olympic wrestlers are tested a lot harder. The higher up the tier system the harder the tests, the more Game the man has. In simple terms. It’s more complex then that but let’s keep it simple.

Men need to be tested to develop Game Dog Game. Really tested, not stayed after school and worked really hard on his homework when he was having trouble in caculs tested. We admire Dead Game above all else. Those 300 Spartans, Christ facing the cross instead of using His Devine powers to side step the horror of crucifixion, every ballsy mo for with a CMH. We as men respect men with that congressional medal but shake our heads in WTF at congressional  medals of freedom for faggy shit.

Testing men outside the military is a good deal more difficult. We here in the West live in an incredibly soft, civilized, pussy of a world. Typically civilian life is so soft I find it diffcult to related to men who haven’t served. The gulf between their world and reality is usually beyond my ability to bridge. I ain’t bullshitting when I say I trust my rifle, the Ranger next to me and my Pit Bull. They have all been tested again and again. It’s hard to know who to trust, to what degree and what topic to trust them during these soft times.

There are ways men test themselves here in the West. Sports is the easy example and the higher the risk of physical harm the better the test, though I am not sure how reliable a loyalty test it is if it’s an individual sport. There are all sorts of cool shit dudes can do to test themselves and build soild masculine bonds like 36 hours of Uwharrie. If it’s tough on the body, mind and spirit, with a realistic chance of injury and expectation of playing while hurt, it’s a legit test.

Life tests a lot of men. Some dudes get mountian high piles of shit dropped on them. Every man gets beat down, a man with Game gets back up.

Gangs get this notion of testing. To earn your way into a 1% crew you have to spend some time as a hang around where the patch holders get an idea of what kind of man you are. Then you are invited to prospect and if you meet their criteria, all patch holders will vote on your acceptance. 1 no vote and it’s a no. They do this for the obvious reasons like not wanting to patch in an informant, but they want to test you for more day to day shit too. Will you put the patch and club above all else? Do you run from a fight? Do you whine like a bitch on long rides through thunderstorms? Do you do dumb shit that creates problems?

A police and fire acedmey will tests recruits for Game. Everyone else wants to know less important shit like your GPA, which college you went to, credit score and the like

Gangs, the military,  cops and firefighters are all tested for Game. John the IT guy three cubicles over? Probably not so much

I don’t trust men without Game, but even men with Game will fail.

No matter how Game a man is, he can be broken. I remember going to SERE school and the men who thought they couldn’t be broken. We all broke. Not typically through pain or via physical misery but through clever manipulation during a weakened state but none the less, there you are, on video admitting to all sorts of shit it would be physically impossible for you to do. Men have limits on what they can and should endure in everyday life as well. All of this applies to less extreme things then water boarding and being shoved into a 55 gallon drum full of water for 12 hours. Water boarding works in minutes but we all face a more mundane grind every day, some more extreme then others, and we all have our limits. Different limits on different sucks per man

This isn’t a call to trust no one. That’s an empty life but be careful who you trust, why you trust them, how far you trust them and what you trust them with. You may trust one friend to never turn his back on you when things are bad but never want to follow his buiness advice or even confide in him if he is a blabber mouth. Be aware all men have limits, myself/ ourselves included. I’ve been broken. I would rather go back into that 55 gallon drum of water then still be married. Trust tested men, men who have been through some shit and who came out the other end wiser and harder then before but. Keep your own counsel, keep your cards close and realize we don’t live in a movie. We live here in the real world where good men will let you down, sometimes deliberately but often enough through casual negelince and ignorance and on rare occasions due to extrene circumstances.

I think this recognition of our limits and the limits of others is the heart and soul of real world humility. Biblical humility. It’s healthy and natural vs the your a worthless worm version of humility that is preached today. A lot of men carry heavy burdens that would break some other man, while that some other man carries a burden that would break others. It’s the way of things.

This trust issue is another reason I lean toward a heavy dose of Stoicism. We can only control how we react to life not the world around us. By all means embrace deep masculine friendships. Go out and do ballys shit as part of a team but have realistic expectations about yourself and then men around you.

Easy Rider; 30 days in the wind and under the sky

Well I am planning my next ride. Not my most challenging ride ever so I am being slack on the planning but this post should help folks who are sort of new to long distance ridding or camping or the combination of both.

I want to do 30 days under the sky, the bike (and sidecar) dog and me. This will be a proof of concept test ride for my trip to Alaska next year. I will meet up with a couple of friends, test out the gear, see how things go with the dog and side car plus route recon ie explore some areas so I won’t get sidetracked when I do the Deadhorse AK  run, tryout some camping spots, meet some guys who own bike shops along the route in case I have problems etc etc.

I have done some hard ridding over the years, and loved setting out with nothing much more then a saddle roll, a gun, pocket full of cash and a toothbrush stuff into my boot top. I took a great deal of pride in ridding coast to coast with limited gear or old-school gear our great-grandfathers would have used. The wear and tear has added up and I got to start throttle back some so I can stay on the road longer. Plus Alaska is a no shit kind of ride and I want to ensure my gear is good to go and comfortable for 11000 miles, round trip.

The 1st thing I tend to before rolling out on long rides like this is the bike. If I had a particular destination in mind I would start with route selection, but I’ll be mostly fucking off on this ride.  I keep my bikes in good working order and all I needed for this trip was new break pads. Because I ride often I understand how long tires and breaks last given my bike and ridding style.  Because I ride almost daily, the battery stays charged and healthy. All my lights work, all oils, break and clutch fuild checked out fine, both in quantity and quality. I tightened every mounting bracket and hardware I could get a tool one without removing the tank or fairing. Anything that was loose got some thread locker to help keep things in place. I also readjust my highway pegs. They always slip on long rides and I want to start off in the most comfortable position.

Next I look at my tools. Normally I am a tool snob but snobbery is wasted on roadside tools. These things stay in my saddle bags for months at a time. Typically they don’t come out of their bags unless I am cleaning them for a road trip. They all got a nice WD40 bath/ rub down. I carry a toolkit I picked up from Cycle Gear  for $40. I use to cary a lot more tools but bikes have improved, a lot and so has my tool skillz and my thinking. Fact is you only need a few tools to help get yourself back on the road, and the more experience you aquire the easier it becomes to get by on less. My tools are in small zip lock bags, and then placed into customs tool bags designed to fit into some of the dead spaces of a Harley’s saddle bag. They look like “L”‘s and i bought them at a bike rally years ago. These are nice because space is at a premium on a bike. There are a lot of small, clever items like that out there for biked, especially Harleys. I have a small electrical repair kit, wire, fuses, circuit tester and some bulbs. There are fuel cans designed to fit into the dead space of a Harley’s saddle bag. In theory they hold a gallon of fuel, I figure it’s more like. 8 gallons when you figure in spillage but I have one in each saddle bag plus a quart of oil in each bag and a small, unopened bottle of DOT 5 break fuild, which for me takes care of both the clutch and breaks. 1.6 gallons of fuel extends my range by 45+ miles. Not to many places in the lower 48 where you are more then 45 miles from gas or help.

Because I ride often, I get the maximum life out of my batteries but I still cary one of those portal jump start boxes. Any one of us can leave the lights on over night and drain our battery. No point be stranded when $80 will get you back on the road if you do something dumb.

By far the most common problems I see on long trips is shit falling off bikes and tires. People tend to strap shit everywhere on these long trips. I bring a goodly number of zip ties in a variety of sizes, plus duct tape and electrical tape. I bring 3 ways to repair and inflate tires. The most simple is fix-a-flat. You can find small bike size cans of it on the interwebz. I bring two tire patch kits, two -45 gram size cans of compressed air, two cans of fix-a-flat and a small air compressor that plugs into the cigarette lighter on my bike. I keep the fix-a-flat handy but it’s all cross loaded between the  bags.

I always cross load my gear so loosing a bag or something loosing it’s water resistant seal or a bag opening up on the road and dumping its contents while I ride or any number of things won’t leave me zero balance on something important.

I also keep a set of frog togs for riding in bad weather on my bike, two cords to charge my phone/ tablet, WD40, JB weld, super glue, thread locker, roll of quarters, 3 hondos stashed in 3 different places, two lighters, ear plugs, ear buds, baby wipes, sun block, rubbers, spare set of sunglasses, two sets of clear eye protection, pair of smart wool socks, baby powder and more zip lock bags. Just about everything goes into a zip lock bags before being packed into a weather resistant bag. Double the water proofing. Ever and always double down on water proofing your shit

One of the reasons I suggest Harleys to folks is the support gear that goes with them. I have a set of these that pair up with the fuel cans. Very helpful product. Easy to get in and out of your saddle bags even after you pack a lot of shit into them. Something like this let’s you keep all manner of small stuff handy. Like chapstick, sun block and bolts to throw through windshields. My least favorite way to add extra storage but they are helpful. These sit on top of the saddled bags. They look like ass but are hella convient, easy on and easy off.  I keep stuff I need quickly or stuff I need everyday in these bags. Fix-a-flat, socks, toothbrush etc and stuff I want to take indoors with me if I am saying in hotels or with friends. Two easy quick connect fasteners and off you go with the shit you need for a night or two. My camping stuff goes into one these, with the tent and sleeping bag rolled up and stuffed into the bag on top.

I use a homemade version of this to hold my tablet to the gas tank. Again, looks ugly, works like a boss, putting my map/ navigation and music within easy reach. Use to be back in the day you had to stop to read your map, or write your exits numbers and milage on your tank with a grease pencil. Now you look down and there is a 10 inch, live update map, turn by turn directions and local weather reports courtesy of Google, not to mention Molly Hatchet pouring out your speakers .

I have a lot of storage on my bike and yet space is a major factor when camping off a bike, even more so when you plan on staying out for 30 days. A lot of shit will happen in 30 days, some you can predict. Some you cant. Somethings will certinaly happen, but you can’t predict when. Like when you will get rained on. You need to pick gear that will cover more then one oh shit or you will consume your space in no time. I will have the side car, but that will be full of dog and dog stuff. Normally how you pack, with the weight evenly disturbed is an important factor as well, but the side car makes it less so.

The number one way to save space is to cut down on the clothes your bring. Which means buying a new shirt and new pair of socks every few days or doing a small load of laundry every few days, or getting really fucking nasty. Or some combination of all three. Well I don’t wear underdraws so that will save space. I will  be wearing under armor shirts and socks ie $$$ so that will mean laundry every few days or smelling really, really bad. Body order and wood smoke gets rank. I’ll probably do laundry every 4th day. Which means packing 4 pairs of socks, 2 extra shirts (one long sleeve, one short sleeve) and one pair of gym shorts for when I am washing my britches. Weather can vary a lot during this time of year but not so much I need to bring a lot of winter gear. Once again it will be under armor stuff, this time the long John type. That plus ridding leathers, gloves and a pair of smart wool socks will get the job done and then some.

Ps don’t forget the shower shoes

Part two will cover the camping gear I plan on bringing, how I will eat and drink and sleep.

 

 

Keep on trucking

I don’t normally write much about long-term life with women. Mostly because my marriage was a train wreck and I have had more success pulling chicks and nexting bitches then keeping them around but things with The Girls have been going well for awhile now. Even after this last meat grinder of a year. I can’t recall the last anything resembling a shit tests and when things looked their worst this year, The Girls never wavered. They never bitched when our budget was cut by more then half, they never got pissy when I hit the road to clear my head. No second guessing. No nagging or pitty parties.

That’s a new experience for me. Times past, women added stress. From the beginning The Girls have made it a habit to talk about me in the 3rd person as if I am not there. Its always amused me. When The Girls talk about me/ us etc it’s no longer about how masculine I am, or how I am an asshole or impossible to live with or how could they both love an asshole so much etc etc

These days the Girls mostly mention how much fun they have with me. I am not sure why the evolution in their discussions but it has been an interesting change, one I didn’t notice until recently. Could a sense of shared adventure be key to LTR success? One would think I started out fun then became an impossible to live with asshole, isn’t that the script? I reckon it took them awhile to fully submit to my frame and adjust to The Ton life. Even the small stuff like eating off those tin camping plates, using dutch ovens over open fires to make supper, fire pit,  smores and wine almost nightly is a departure from their norm.

They never camped before me, didn’t know you could wrap eggs, sausage and hash browns in aluminum foil, toss it on a fire and have breakfast in a few minutes. Never caught fish let alone turn the fish into lunch, right there on the beach by wrapping the fish in foil and tossing it on the fire. Or made chicken stew in a Dutch over over a campfire.

Now all that is old news, but last weekend was our 1st trip off roading. During the build, The Girls were all sickly sweet looks and skeptical smiles but I knew they would enjoy the end results. Girl#2 has always been all about mechanical mayhem and I knew she would enjoy it. Girl#1 gets all smiley and pissed when I do burnouts on the bike or Mustang, but you can tell she loves it, embarrassed about loving it, but loves it, so I was pretty sure she would enjoy the off roading trip.

What I didn’t expect is how much they would enjoy it.

Now the truck isn’t the most radical off road ride but she’ll get the job done. And then some. I lifted it and all that kind of stuff but where I went a little off course is setting it up for camping. We have a camper shell on it, put a homemade rail system in the bed so we can store stuff and slide it all out when we need it and built a bedframe above that so we can sleep on a very comfy foam mattress. A roof rack holds the extra tires, fuel and what not, we can put two kayaks on top of the camper shell if we choose. It ain’t pretty but it’s gets the job done.

Girls eat up attention,and we got a lot of attention. The off road truck/ camper combo was a hit with the other people in the camp site, so was the dog. The Lady Pit is striking, with a big, big friendly personality. We cooked out, and in high fashion. Slept on a nice foam mattress, woke up and had those egg, sausage and hash brown bombs….. we were the talk of the camp ground and I could tell Girl#2 was eating it all up with a spoon, and Girl#1 was enjoying herself as well but in her more reserved manner.

Then we got on the trail. The 1st thing I did was some donuts in the mud, slinging that stuff everywhere while the dog tried to climb in my lap and The Girls laughed like fools. We ran two trails, and I let them run a beginner trail and they were all “we love you” and big smiles. And proud of themselves for driving their 1st off road course.

A week later and it’s about all they talk about.

From a Game perspective there is a lot going on; displays of mastery, demonstrating higher value, pre selection as the other girls at the camp flocked around the rig, talked up my cooking etc etc but but don’t ignore Cindy Lauper’s advice either

I have been deliberate in choosing the outdoor life. These things are fun but there is a larger purpose behind most of what I do. There are certain things I want my son’s to learn. About themselves and about the world, some of which can only be learned outdoors. Some things can only be learned in the ring, others in team sports but the boys are to young for the ring or the ball field.  There are family tradtions I want to preserve for another generation. Skill sets I dont want to see pass away. There are things I want them to do. I want my family to eat certian things and in certian ways. I want these things because they will make my boys better men. I was deliberate in choosing off-roading vs dirt bikes too. I prefer two wheels to 4 but it will be years before the boys can sit a bike but at this point it should all be fun

Have a mission, bend them to your will, have fun

Self-sucfiency, Jack of all trades… ie being a man in a world full of Mancy’s

Cill got me to thinking, dangerous pastime, I know, about how men who were not raised up by traditionally masculine men can address their condition and improve their standing among men.

Being good at being a man entails being as independent as possible and reasonable… ie self-sufficient. It is unrealistic for all men to be good at all things, but most men should and can be reasonably good with their hands. A good stiff jab, a hard straight right hand, a wicked hook, a better upper cut, the ability to repair most shit around the house, to keep your rides tuned and road worthy and the ability  to get yourself out of a bind when your ride doesnt behave isn’t an unreasonable skill set to have and will do much to up your man score.

Nor do these things require a massive investment of time, energy and other resources. Lestwise not when you factor in the return on your investment. Basic plumbing class at the local community college is $85. A turd herder will charge you $40-$60 to come out and replace the inner workings of your shitter. Which takes…. 20 minutes & a $20 kit from Lowe’s. Need to replace the seal between your shitter and floor? That’s going to run you over a hondo for a $15 seal. Spark chasers will charge you $25 to replace a $2.50 outlet. Most HAVAC problems are simple as hell if you know a few tricks, go learn those tricks…. $105 at my local community college.  Knowing a tad bit about automobiles will save you time and money, bring you a sense of accomplishment, and keep you from getting fucked over by the slimy versions of mechanics on the big jobs. Hell the school has a 6 week class focused on repairing common mechanical problems with your car on the side of the road.

Knowing how to do these things, even at a rudimentary level, will bring you standing among men and women. As much as popular culture likes to run down these old school markers of traditional masculinity, the world still responses well to traditionally masculine men.  Imagine discussing your weekend plans and how bad ass it will sound when you tell the chumps you are building a deck while they go shopping with their wives…let those bitches hold sone bitch’s purse. You got man shit to do.  Imagine the sense of accomplishment and pride as you learn to rely on yourself more and other men less.

Especially  you nerdy office drone types.

20 minutes from Camp Ton Costal is my county’s community college where you can learn to weld, learn to do those basic repairs to your house, car/ truck, boat or bike. You can learn to sew, learn to cook, learn to make beer, learn to ride a bike, fix a bike and how to do the same things but on boats. Hell you can also learn to fly, do shit with computers, take photographs and get help creating a buiness plan and start your own bidness

Go forth and learn some cool shit and go do said cool shit.

Paying the cost to be the boss

 

Paying The Cost To Be The Boss”

You act like you don’t want to listen
When I’m talking to you
You think you outta do baby
Anything you wanna do
You must be crazy baby
You just gotta be outta your mind
As long as I’m payin’ the bills woman
I’m payin’ the cost to be the bossI’ll drink if I want to
And play a little poker too
Don’t you say nothing to me
As long as I’m taking care of you
As long as I’m workin baby
And payin’ all the bills
I don’t want no mouth from you
About the way I’m supposed to live
You must be crazy woman
Just gotta be outta your mind
As long as I foot the bills
I’m payin’ the cost to be the bossNow that you got me
You act like you ashamed
You don’t act like my woman
You just usin’ my name
I tell you I’m gonna have all the money
And I don’t want no back-talk
Cause if you don’t like the way I’m doin’
Just pick up your things and walk
You gotta be crazy baby
You must be outta your mind
As long as I’m payin’ the bills woman
I’m payin’ the cost to be the boss

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That’s old school man thinking right there, and it still keeps the bitches damp in the panties.
I see the same guys in the man o sphere struggling with the same stuff. Some guys have been dumping their purse on us for so long I no longer give a damn what happens to to them. Some guys are 2 steps forward, 1 step back, others 1 step forward, 2 steps back.
Do you know how the typical guy wins a bar fight? It ain’t no fancy pants Asian dance moves. He steps forward and keeps swinging, no matter how many times he gets punched in the face and he keeps at it until the other guy breaks.
Life is a bar brawl. I love these guys who keep going forward no matter how hard life punches them in the face. They are paying the cost to be the boss. I despies these guys who keep dumping their purse on us, going no where, expecting us to be their life long emotional tampon.
These guys in the thick of life’s bar brawl, these magnificent losers are going to win. Maybe they won’t have money in the bank and a string of 20 year old hotties in their bed but they will be men worthy of the name as long as they keep brawling, doing what they can to live on their terms, dominating the world and people around them