Alpha Male Links -- Lessons 1 through 18

I keep getting requests for the links to the earlier blog posts of my "How To Become An Alpha Male in 18 Easy Lessons" series, so here are all the links so far:

Lesson One: Getting It -- January 3, 2003

Lesson Two: Giving It -- January 4, 2003

Lesson Three: Why Alpha Males Get Pussy Galore -- January 5, 2003

Lesson Four: Stag Films -- January 7, 2003

Lesson Five: Confidence Game -- January 12, 2003

Lesson Six: Alpha Males Have Things--January 15, 2003

Lesson Seven: Pretty, Pretty, Girl --January 15, 2003

Lesson Eight: How To Get An Alpha Male -- January 17, 2003

Lesson Nine: Do The Right Thing -- January 23, 2003

Lesson Ten: I Second That Emotion -- February 1, 2003

Lesson Eleven: Take Me -- February 17, 2003

Lesson Twelve : The Post-Alpha Male -- March 11, 2003

Lesson Thirteen: The Real Alpha Male -- March 13, 2003

Lesson Fourteen: All About Size -- April 17, 2003

Lesson Fifteen: You Must Remember This -- May 11, 2003

Lesson Sixteen: Power Play -- May 18, 2003

Lesson Seventeen: Love Letter To An Alpha Male -- July 3, 2003

Lesson Eighteen: My Alpha Boy -- August 19, 2003

This Just In -- Marketing 101

Where do these nutty internet jokes START anyway ... and if they're funny, why doesn't the author want his name out there to get a little credit?

> MARKETING 101
>
> People often ask for an explanation of Marketing.
>
> Perhaps the following analogies will help clear it
> up:
>
> You see a handsome guy at a party.
> You go up to him and say, "I'm fantastic in bed."
> That's Direct Marketing.
>
> You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a
> handsome guy.
> One of your friends goes up to him and pointing at
> you says, "he's fantastic in bed."
> That's Advertising.
>
> You see a handsome guy at a party.
> You go up to him and get his telephone number.
> The next day you call and say, "Hi, I'm fantastic in
> bed."
> That's Telemarketing.
>
> You're at a party and see a handsome guy.
> You get up and, Give eye contact.
> You walk up to him and pour him a drink.
> You say, "May I," and reach up to kiss him, and then
> say, "By the way, I'm fantastic in bed."
> That's Public Relations.
>
> You're at a party and see a handsome guy.
> He walks up to you and says, "I hear you're
> fantastic in bed."
> That's Brand Recognition.
>
> You're at a party and see a handsome guy.
> You talk him into going home with your friend.
> That's a Sales Rep.
>
> Your friend can't satisfy him so he calls you.
> That's Tech Support.
>
> You're on your way to a party when you realize that
> there could be handsome men in all these houses
> you're passing.
> So you climb onto the roof of one situated toward
> the center and shout at the top of your lungs, "I'm
> fantastic in bed!"
> That's Spam
>
>

How To Become An Alpha Male: Lesson 9: Do The Right Thing

My Poor Alpha Male. He seems to be getting the shit kicked out of him around here. So many people are telling me he's just a selfish, egotistical, sex-obsessed, narcissistic cad. Not so, I say! Not so! You think my Alpha Male spends his day with a front-row seat at Pussy Galore's Flying Circus, saving the world from nuclear annililation, racing around in his Aston Martin, BMW and Q Boat, when he's not ducking Odd Job's razor-sharp steel-rimmed hat? No, he's got more heroic work to do -- like paying the mortgage and making sure to take out the garbage. My Alpha Male knows how to do the right thing.

Watch our hero in action. At dawn, he's waking next to his wife, or maybe not. He's endowed with that most unusual gift -- an erection -- but chances are, no matter who he's next to in bed, unless he's 17 years old, he'll get little chance to enjoy it. He's just got to get up -- not get it up, or keep it up, or get off -- his mistress is the Sony Clock Radio next to the bed and if it's anything past 7:00 am, he's already late. If he's a new dad, he's got a toddler already jumping on top of him and the slightly melancholy thought "hey, I remember when this bed wasn't a kid's trampoline!" races through his head. If he's an old dad, he's got enough worries with college bills, refinancing the house, running a meeting or making some flight to some damned place in the next hour, that it would make anyone want to crawl back under the covers. So what's he do ... don't forget he's a hero ... he drags himself out of bed and faces the day. Gotta love that guy.

At breakfast, he's doing 2nd grade math with his daughter who's braiding Barbie's hair and doesn't care much about carrying. She does light up when he scribbles the answers next to the problems and lets her copy them in her scrunchy writing in the right place. His coffee isn't the way he likes it since they've run out of half-and-half. Watch what our hero does -- does he think, SHE forgot to get half-and-half and adds one more disappointment to his list of wifely misdeeds -- NO! He looks over at her and sees she's up to her ass in alligators as well, packing lunches, writing notes to teachers, dashing for school buses. She's half dressed and not the sexy girl he married by a long shot. No, she's not Dr. Holly Goodhead, but he goes over and gives her a hug and says something terrific like, "what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" and tells her how great she is. Wow! This guy knows how to do the right thing. When he gets to work, he mysteriously finds three pieces of Oreo O's breakfast cereal in his briefcase.

At work he spends a good part of his day trying to dodge the bullets of getting fired, trying to climb the ladder to a promotion -- only now it's an escalator that used to go up but looks more like those endless automatic walkways in airports -- stretching flat for miles with occasional rises -- and when he's not losing heart over his own circumstances, he's called on to help other guys and gals deal with the same disturbing business terrain, which he does with good humor, courage and generosity. He's a hero after all. He gets a call from his brother-in-law mid-morning who's really in dire financial straits and against all better judgment, sends him money. He gets word of an ex-colleague who's drinking problems have taken him out -- or taken whatever life he had left after his ex-wife took everything first. It's a grizzly story, best counterbalanced by a quick trip to the Starbuck's counter to see if the blonde from Michigan is serving today. Ah, she's there. Okay, shoot him -- he likes to flirt with her -- but look at her, especially in that way too tight buttons-might-just-bust-if's-he's-lucky blouse. For goodness sakes, he IS an Alpha Male, let him think about her that way as she offers him "Whipped cream?" for his mocha.

The sunset out his office window isn't so bad. He's got a view at least. Days near an end and he's not looking forward to the evening his wife's arranged with some people he doesn't like who do nothing but put his wife down (how can she NOT notice?), tell them how much smarter THEIR kids are, and always manages to steer the conversation around to how much less they paid for their house down the street which is identical to Alpha Male's humble abode. The office seems a much more welcome place right now than home. He watches a few last guys heading out. And then that crazy new kid, Jones, comes flying in. He's such a kid, so young, but look at him. He did it. He's back with a contract from that son-of-a-bitch client -- he actually got the deal! jones is nearly falling across his desk with a high five. The rest of the guys come out of the woodwork. It's great. High fives all around and they all grab their coats. That contract deserves at least one beer at the joint down the street.

Jones is really thrilled to get his attention. And in that moment, our Alpha Male suddenly sees what power he holds. His life flashes before him -- his wife at breakfast with a sly sexy smile after he was nice to her, the mocha girl, that last turn to smile goodbye to him -- he got under her skin, he saw it, -- his brother-in-law's tone of true gratitude -- his daughter's happy smile to see him help her cheat on her homework while she braided her doll's hair -- his older, tired-out boss rolling his eyes up as Alpha Male heads out with all the young Turks to celebrate, as if to say, thanks, someone needs to do it and I'm just too beat -- and me, did you see me as you led the gang over to the bar on 6th, you passed me on the sidewalk, I gave you a quick smile and look of gratitude, because you make this world a much better place. "My hero" I whispered as you walked by, "You always do the right thing."

Goofy Internet Jokes

Couldn't resist. It's 8 degrees here. Maybe we just need to LAUGH, instead of complaining about how damned cold it is. And if you go outside, don't do what these Eskimos did.

Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly; but when they lit a fire in the craft, it sank, proving once and for all that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.

Two peanuts walk into a bar One was a salted.

A jumper cable walks into a bar. The barman says "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."

A sandwich walks into a bar. The barman says, "Sorry we don't serve food in here."

A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says: "A beer please, and one for the road."

Two aerials meet on a roof, fall in love get married. The ceremony wasn't much but the reception was brilliant.

"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home.'"
"That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome."
"Is it common?"
"It's not unusual."

Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this Taste funny to you?"

Two cows standing next to each other in a field, Daisy says to Dolly "I was artificially inseminated this morning." "I don't believe you," said Dolly. "It's true, no bull!"

A guy walks into the psychiatrist wearing only Glad Wrap shorts. The shrink says, "Well, I can clearly see you're nuts."

Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar. One says, "I've lost my electron." The other says, "Are you sure?" The first replies, "Yes, I'm positive..."

Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bullsh#t before.

A man takes his Rottweiler to the vet and says, "My dog's cross-eyed, is there anything you can do for him? " "Well," says the vet, "let's have a look at him" So he picks the dog up and examines his eyes, then checks his teeth. Finally, he says "I'm going to have to put him down."
"What?, Because he's cross-eyed?"
"No, because he's really heavy"

Apparently, 1 in 5 people in the world are Chinese. And there are 5 people in my family, so it must be one of them. It's either my mum or my dad...or maybe my older brother Colin. Or my younger brother Ho-Cha Chu. But I'm pretty sure it's Colin.

I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but I couldn't find any.

I went to the butchers the other day and I bet him $50 that he couldn't reach the meat off the top shelf. He said, 'no, the steaks are too high.'

My friend drowned in a bowl of muesli. He was pulled in by a strong currant.

I went to a seafood disco rave last week.... and pulled a mussel.

What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.

Two fish swim into a concrete wall. One turns to the other and says "dam"

Two fish are in a tank. One says to the other "I'll man the guns, you drive"

When You're Longing For The Caveman Of Your Dreams

Wow, finally the Alpha Male debate gets into high gear, as the BBC reports women on the pill (Alpha Females, perhaps?) like the Fred Flintstone type while on the pill and go for the sensitive poet when off ... or something. Thanks to Brian for the link.

Boys Don't Cry: Shame

Perhaps I'm taking a walk on the other side of the Alpha Male moon here today. I came across this book on Amazon while I was looking for titles by Terence Real (a great writer and psychologist Rageboy turned me onto.)

Alon Gratch's book called If Men Could Talk caught my eye and I sure love Amazon's killer app: LOOK INSIDE.

Gratch says the Number 1 Reason men have so much trouble communicating their feelings is Shame. Take a look inside at his writing, it's interesting. Reserve the right to COMPLETELY DISAGREE with it and me. And read my post at the bottom of this page about the futility of defining men, at all, in any way whatsoever.

I Don't Know What I Feel: Emotional Absence

Again, Alon Gratch seems to be hitting the nail on the head here. We spend so much time telling little boys NOT TO FEEL ANYTHING, is it a surprise they grow up into men who aren't sure how they feel? Especially when feeling can be considered so weak and a waste of time. Don't feel (we tell boys), just do!

This is the Number Two reason men have so much trouble communicating, according to his in book, If Men Could Talk.

I'm Tired Of Being On Top: Insecurity

The Number 3 reason men find it hard to communicate -- so much pressure to be on top, to have it together, to be the big man (shall I dare say, the Alpha Male?) and the insecurity this can cause.

Now, wait a second, I kinda LIKE being on top. But that's a whole other story.

See Me, Hear Me, Touch Me, Feel Me: Self-Involvement

Hey, hey, I didn't say men are self-involved, I swear. I mean I have had a few drinks in a few lovely lounges with a few men who take the first 50 minutes of an hour telling me all about how great they are and then serve up the classic, "So tell me, how do you feel ... about me, that is."

Just teasing. This is Reason Number 4 Alon Gratch says men have trouble really communicating in his book If Men Could Talk. I don't know Alon, haven't read his book, but I think he's got some interesting things to say.

I'll Show You Who's Boss: Aggression

In his book If Men Could Talk, Alon Gratch says Aggression is the number 5 reason men have so much trouble communicating their feelings. Ask any wife. Something about that, "I'll show you who's boss" thing at home that really gets the frying pan flying towards the male cranium.

I'm Such A Loser: Self-Destructiveness

Number Six from If Men Could Talk. Alon Gratch is eloquent on how you can shoot yourself in the foot, so to speak.

He worked as a psychologist with the NYPD early in his career and tells a fascinating story about removing police officer's guns from cops who were considered suicidal. Needless to say, removing their gun was according to him "tantamount to public castration" and often pushed a patient closer to suicide.

I Want Sex Now: Sexual Acting-Out

Number Seven on Alon Gratch's list of the seven male attributes that make it so hard for men to talk about their feelings. His book If Men Could Talk is pretty interesting. He writes about sex in a very interesting way. He figures most sex is not about sex. Remind me, when is a cigar only a cigar?

Needless to say, though this might be interesting, I figure no book exists that will ever explain the wonderful, crazy, sexy, charming, powerful, mysterious thing known as "a man."

Only The Lonely Know The Way I Feel Tonight

I thought about this last night for a long time. I think all of us are a lot more lonely than we fess up to. Blogging is helping bridge that gap as families fall apart, re-form, change, or stagnate. I know I can get so damned lonely. And I really appreciate my friends who pull me out of it. Thanks.

Strangely, when I talk about why I decided to get divorced, I often say it was because I felt so lonely in my marriage, which I did and it is not uncommon. You can find yourself living in a world populated by many living, breathing, live-action, real people but feel rather like your walking through a cemetary of stone monuments for all the life they give off. Again, I don't blame any other parties -- I was dead in my skin too -- but you have to wonder sometimes how it can get that way. When and where does the rigor mortis start? What does it mean to be alive?

Hey Si, As Time Goes By

The fundemental things apply, Si. But you know I've been getting a lot of email from guys your age and up to about 30 who are BIG TIME disagreeing with me and I'm going to blog about that soon. I like what they have to say. They don't think all these games need to go on. I'll send you a questionnaire on this, you can fill in a form for me -- need your input. Thanks for blogging me:

Halley's recent posts on Alpha Maledom have stirred mixed feelings in me. First, the exposure of trade secrets is somewhat unsettling; second, I have a deep-seated urge to find, hunt down and kill the informers; and third, I NEED to direct about half of my friends to read this stuff so they can stop pestering ME. Now if Halley can get up some posts about Alpha Females to take care of the other half...

Poem: Is Yonder The Man?

We fall
again and again
for the wrong him,
for the wrong her,
like As You Like It,
and try to right our wrongs,
by thinking our way through
and turning our backs on a longing heart.

We believe
again and again
that we can contain
a feral love,
like an unruly toddler in a playpen
but our hearts break free,
leaving all asunder,
seeking the soulful source of their delight.

We know
again and again
that if all we have is love,
it's all we need have.
It's all we've come here for
and we should bow before it,
but don't -- so instead,
we are brought to our knees by it.

We pretend
again and again
that we have some say,
that we are the masters and mistresses
of our love's mastery,
but learn we are merely players
in this comedy of haphazard hearts.

Bed & Absolutely Terrific Breakfast

We lucked in with a last minute cancellation near Ascutney, VT where we like to ski. The Millbrook is run by Kay who is just about the best cook I've ever run into. The breakfasts were out of this world -- homemade bread, rolls, pastry, terrific omelettes, eggs, home-made apple sauce, maple butter, on and on and on I could go. Even better at 4:30 when you're done skiing she makes these great soups and other treats -- minestrone w/grated parmesan yesterday, and homemade pizza -- and chile with salsa, onions, cheese, chips the day before.

Honestly, I'd gotten really sick of bed & breakfasts and don't visit many, but with "no room at the inn" in most places for this weekend, it was just a fluke we ended up there and IT WAS TERRIFIC.

Just looked at the title. The bed was great too -- a very comfortable king-sized bed in a romantic and pretty room -- which I shared with my 7-year-old son. How can one kid take up so much of one bed? Another family came with us with their 7-year-old boy as well and took an adjoining room. Remind me, are there any 7-year-old boys in the world who think it might be a good idea to CLOSE THE DOOR behind them, or do they all leave the door hanging wide open so the parents are on display while parading around in various pieces of half on-half off ski long johns?

BTW, Ascutney is a great place to learn to ski or take kids to. I only started skiing LAST YEAR and thanks to my son pushing me to keep at it, I'm getting pretty good.

The Unexamined Life Is Like Totally Not Worth Living

I see Scoble has jumped on the Alpha Male bandwagon with MUCH MORE HELPFUL ADVICE to women who want to get an Alpha Male than I offered here a few days back. I was particularly interested in point number 2, especially his invocation to "Know Thyself."
.

2) Know yourself and what pleases you. There's nothing as dull as a woman who says "I have never masturbated." (And you know Alpha males will eventually get around to asking such personal and prying questions). First off, she's probably lying (alpha males really don't have time for liars or people who play games). Second off, how can you know how to please an alpha male if you don't even know how to please yourself?

Get with it girls. Needless to say, all the really excellent links to good vibrations and other such sites can be found at www.rageboy.com.

Try 22 Degrees Below Zero

Back from skiing in Vermont. Okay, I rushed off Friday, not bothering to check out a certain key piece of data -- the weather report.

On the way up, I'm noticing a lot of ice on the car windshield. My son's in the back seat doing the kind of things 7-year-old boys like to do, drawing on the window, but it's making a slightly weird noise. Like he's scraping through ice to engrave a message for me. The heater's on full blast, the heat of our bodies is keeping us warm and then I suddenly GET IT -- it's not ice just on the OUTSIDE of the window -- there's also a lot of ice on the INSIDE of the window. I think, "Hmm, must be pretty cold out."

We get to our bed & breakfast late Friday night. We get out of the car. "Hmmm," says I, "it's a little chilly." Chilly like you breathe in and you feel like your lungs are getting cryogenically preserved for the next 1000 years or so. Hey, I figure, it's Vermont, it's supposed to be cold up here.

Next morning, I try to start the car to head over to the ski rental joint. VERY SCARY NOISE. I have never heard my car make such a noise -- rather like an animal shuttering and begging not to leave the barn. I think "Damn, now my car's falling apart." I have to warm it up a long time.

Get over to the rental place early -- hate the lines. Weirdly, there is NO ONE there. The local boys in those wool jesters hats are teasing one another about not even bothering skiing today. I ask them what's up. They look at me like I've arrived from Mars -- "Lady, it's 22 below zero." Aha!

Did we ski? You betcha.