U N L O A D E D

Breasts.....

The source of nourishment for a newborn child.

A key component to todays standards of beauty whether some consider it fair or not.

A source of confidence or insecurity to many women around the world depending on size, shape and suppleness.

The very thing that will make many a man forget what he's talking about in mid sentence should just the right amount of cleavage be exposed.

The essence of many a lustful man's (or woman's) fantasy. Some like legs, some like a firm butt, and others yearn for dreamy eyes. But to so many, the breast trumps them all.

Why?

What is it about the female breast that commands so much power over us that some women will seemingly stop at nothing to have the perfect pair. What is the perfect pair and who decides such a thing? Is it an individual choice or is it something more?

Speaking as a man who doesn't look at a women solely for body parts, the attraction to this area of the anatomy is still something primal. I'd be a total liar if I told you that the desire to caress, nibble and hold just the right pair never crossed my mind. I would be lying further if I told you that I haven't been caught starring at them at one time or another. For me, and many men, the instinct to gravitate to this area is so ingrained into the recesses of our minds that many of us don't realize we're doing it.  It's only until you do that you learn to behave yourself a bit more like a gentleman and be a bit more discreet. Most men my age have learned to temper their overt gestures of "ga ga" through the stupidity of our teenage years and the trial and error process of our 20's. I know, I hear some of you, you met a guy who was 50 and acted like a high school freshmen. What can I say? Not everyone grows up. But whether you've mastered to keep it in check or not, the gravitational pull is there. Instincts win out. The joy of breasts are celebrated in our imaginations through gorgeous imagery in the tangible world. It's a potent stimulus.

It has always been my belief that men are visual creatures while women are cerebral. There's plenty of scientific studies and such that seem to indicate the same. But when it comes to a woman critiquing her own appearance, she is VERY visual. This visual fixation has prompted many women to take the next step and turn to the one magical place where everything can and will happen; the internet!

The "Community"

As I trolled around the net looking for topics of interest to discuss here, I stumbled across an online community that I've heard vaguely mentioned in a few news segments. The presentation of the topic was so bland that I dismissed it quickly. Like hearing whether the stock market went up or down, who cares? But this community is far more fascinating than what any type of MySpace of Facebook deal can bring to the table. This online community was all about giving the gift......the gift of boob.

Ladies and gentleman we are about to embark on a journey of yours truly becoming a benefactor to this community.

You are about to learn of they types of men and women that join this place and what they want and desire.

You will read of the special perks and bonuses the benefactors get in exchange for helping a woman in need.

I will share, with you, my experiences in interacting with these women and why boobs have become their priority.

We will explore the social and personal impact these choices can have. Is it a good idea or not?

ALL will be revealed for your reading pleasure and consumption, HERE on this blog.....

BUT....... not tonight.

Tonight I will sip wine and weigh what the world is with breasts and what it would be like without.

Till next time ladies and gents!!!! And while you wait for the update, go vote in the poll just above my profile, won't you?

With Valentines day just around the corner, I suppose it was only a matter of time before some in my local synagogue decided to take it upon themselves to find me a "nice Jewish girl" or at least try to. I suppose there are some benefits to this like not being served pork chops when it's time to meet her parents for a nice dinner or not being cajoled into celebrating Christmas and belting out Silent Night while pounding down eggnog. Then again, this is America where plenty of Jews will eat pork chops for dinner and sing Silent Night around Christmas time because.....it's a free country.

However, it's more than likely that this is not the type of women the matchmakers at my synagogue have in mind. No, they will only select a girl steeped in the traditions of Judaism and can quote the Torah as if she wrote it herself. From there I will be expected to marry her and produce numerous offspring to carry on the traditions of Judaism by sending them to Hebrew school and such. Tradition must be preserved!

Now ladies and gentleman, there is nothing wrong with this if that's your thing. But this is Ricardo we are talking about here and my mission (missionary?) statement has always been the same. I have said it here and I will say it again for all of you:

The Ricardo welcomes beautiful women of all races, creeds and colors.

That has been my way, it has always been my way and will continue to be my way. I've never been of the thought process that we should all just stick with our own. It's boring and I would have deprived myself of many a steamy moment with women of numerous races and backgrounds. The differences are the spice of life. They teach me something new, exciting. It's an adventure and makes me feel more worldly.

I WANT to run my hands up and down the endless legs of a tall blond in Reykjavik!

I MUST HAVE the sweet decadence and soft skin of a Tokyo starlet!

I WANT to sample (further) the well toned body of a woman in Sydney or anywhere in Australia! And I'm not just referring to the wonderful pictures I see of my muse, Nurse Myra!!!

I WANT to burn red hot and see the pink of a babe in Red Square!!

I WANT to explore and shag a buxom beauty in Great Britain!

I WANT to love the taste of curry in the morning with a rose in India!!!

Argentina, South Africa, Canada...wherever!!! There's a lot I have to do before I check out. And since I can fucking breathe again post Advair, I'm more than ready. And most importantly, I DON'T WANT TO SETTLE DOWN!!!

(looks at all of you to make sure you've gotten my point before continuing)

And now back to my story.

The Matchmaker

A service at my synagogue had ended, I was on my way out the door when an older man stopped me. In this case, I encountered a male Yenta, if there is such a thing. Also, that is what others have designated him as so this is how he will be referred to for the sake of our tale.

Male Yenta: Good Shabbos. I think we need to find you someone. You single?

Me: I am, yes.

Male Yenta: You far from here?

Me: Nope. 10 minutes maybe.

Male Yenta: Good! I think we can find someone for you. Shall we?

He gestures toward the hall where refreshments and snacks are served. It's also used for parties and gatherings.

Male Yenta: Figure....she's gotta be living on her own. Good job. Not too needy emotionally or with the money. Around 5 foot 7 for you. Not too short, you're kind of tall.

Me: I......

Before I can say anything he has lead me to the Head Yenta. This woman is known throughout the synagogue for making many a match for the single folk.

Male Yenta: (to Head Yenta) So what do you think? This young man here. Can we find someone for him?

Head Yenta: Oh, I think so.

Male Yenta: No one too short. She's got to be on the taller side and with a job. We don't need her breaking his bank.

Me: There's not much of a bank to break.

Laughter among all of us as in the back of my mind I think...."um....what is this shit?"

Head Yenta: I prefer to go the emotional route to see if there's a connection. I'm sure there are some you will like. I love doing this and I have a great track record.

Male Yenta: Yeah but some things, you know.....

Head Yenta: No I understand. I'm going to look.

Male Yenta: He needs a nice girl.

Head Yenta: He does. He does.

And suddenly, they vanished into the crowd. As if they were never talking to me. Or were they going to work in finding me the right girl?

Dumbfounded, I went over to my rabbi for guidance.

Me: Listen, can I talk to you for a second.

Rabbi: Yeah sure.

Me: The yentas are after me. They want to set me up with someone.

Rabbi: Who!?! What's her name?!?!?

Me: That's the thing, I don't know yet. But you know a lot more than I do about what's really going on here and I don't want to be slammed with damaged goods.

Rabbi: Before you say anything, no matter who she is, talk to me first. Don't give them an answer until you talk to me.

Me: Thanks, that's what I needed.

Rabbi: Ricardo, I like you and I don't want to see anything happen to you.

A voice of reason! As of now, I remain safe.

Of Course, There's always Room for the Right One

My dear readers, there is always room for the right Jewish girl as well. My outburst earlier was to illustrate that the right one can also come in many flavors. Could there be a taut Israeli sabra who's sweeter than apples and honey in my future? Perhaps. It's all the luck of the draw and where life takes me. Will this search bare any fruit? Doubtful. Still the push to pair me off with a nice Jewish girl will continue. I am now in the cross hairs and there is little I can do about it. Even my blogging friend and performance artist Maya Escobar (also Jewish) is determined to set me up with her lovely friend who is.......Jewish. When I asked why the best answer she could give is because this is what she wants for me. It has to be done. There is no rational thought to it but there is a raw insistence that is almost instinctual.

While I despise (LOATHE) musicals, I can't help but think of this number from Fiddler on the Roof. I imagine somewhere in the predominantly Jewish neighborhoods in my state that there are women at least mimicking the essence of this nonsense. Quite frankly, I'm frightened by it all.





Coming up next......

Final thoughts as this season of U N L O A D E D comes to a close.

We've walked the tightrope, shelved our sensitivity, traded in our articulation for aggression....

To be a "man" is to be the idea of a stone warrior who is, in reality, only half a man without the weapons to fight.

Yet fight we do both as "men" and with our significant others if we have them. We love a dog fight. We compete in sports or work, we get cocky if we win and it feeds our very fragile egos. It's an odd for of self nurturing that is not really nurturing but self masturbatory and petty.

Machismo

Within the Latin culture there is great pride taken in a man being a "man." Having been raised by my grandparents you would think that the old world ways would have transferred over to me and, in a way, maybe a bit of it did. But my late Grandfather was not a practitioner of machismo. He was sensitive but silent. The victim of circumstance due to the era he grew up in. He didn't fight or look for one but when it came time to fight back he would. There was an issue with this as you didn't know where the limits of his patience stood. The more he wanted to say something the harder he was to read. He would retreat deep within himself and you could see he wanted to say something but couldn't. Then when he did it he was so raw and angry that he would have to backtrack later and recant many of the things he said. He would do it in a way that he'd never admit to being wrong or even apologize, it was uncanny. He was a wonderful man but I wonder how much greater he would would be if he felt comfortable with self expression. I think he could be superhuman if he mastered this. But for a sensitive man in the old world, this was how to be macho. Appear strong, silent, stoic for as long as you could in spite of yourself.

But Machismo isn't something specific to Latin men, it's something that resides in ALL men and "men." We want to be strong and appealing to women but also don't want to get hurt. We want to be able to kill a grizzly bear with our bare hands and swim the English channel later in the day. We don't want the aid of a doctor when hurt. We want to be able to match the grit of a cowboy in a spaghetti western. We never want to cry or have to get into emotionally messy situations.

But most importantly, we don't want to be reminded of our own weaknesses and limitations.

So being macho is the perfect shield for us. We earn the respect of our fellow men and "men" and we can keep our love interests at arms length so they can't do too much damage. Commitment? That's a compromise to a man's machismo and independence. It says to many a man and "men" that they can't do it alone and they aren't invincible. It also says that the spaghetti western adventure is over.

Possibility

Men and "men" are fascinated by possibility, the "what if." The conquest and legacy. To commit means that the definition of conquering will change or simply go away. Men take pride in winning over women or building something on their own. We like to point at something and say, "Yes, I did that." Of course, not all men are are like this. There are many men that do want to commit and have a family and make that their legacy. But for some of us, the question will always linger on our mind,"Is this as good as it gets?"

We simply don't know the answer and to deprive ourself of opportunity in exchange for what's in front of us, as wonderful as she may be.....it still may not be enough according to our expectations. Are they too high? Too low? That is something we must judge for ourselves as each of our cases are unique.

So if you ladies are wondering why he's taking so long to make up his mind then what I'm saying here could be the reason. It's not immaturity, it's possibility. And the more you try to pin him down the more he'll struggle to escape. Frustrating, but the nature of the beast.

Opening Up

This is where a "man" becomes a man and this is one of the hardest things for us to do. Perhaps it's the testosterone but opening up is awful. I dread it, loathe it with all my being. Yet I do it. I owe it to my background in the arts. I was forced to do it as that was the only way to create an honest artistic work or performance. I had to get comfortable with being emotionally uncomfortable. And while it has become somewhat easier, it's not a picnic.

There's so much on the line here. The man you thought you were is now exposed, a sitting duck, ready to be blown to bits by rejection or indifference. Still, if you find the right woman, you have to show your intelligence, your understanding, your real sensitivity at your core and your dominance at the periphery. All the stars must be aligned but we men can do it. However, this will bring about another problem to the suspicious woman and it's something that will push us back to being "men" quicker than a hiccup....

I will reveal that for you here and much more.......

(siting back in my chair and looking at the clock)

But not tonight......tonight I'm going to bed and thinking about the Playboy bunnies and the Playboy mansion. I will have a "man's" dream and harbor no regrets at my digressions.

Coming up next.....The final installment of why men are "men.

True story going back to when I was training as an actor. I was going to night classes at a place called The Atlantic Theater Company around the meat packing district in Manhattan. The class was about analyzing a script and performance technique. Each week we had find a partner and perform a scene for the rest of the class to critique. One particular scene that didn't go well for yours truly was from a play called Suburbia by actor and writer Eric Bogosian. It was a wonderful coming of age tale of youngsters who were going nowhere post high school and pissing away their time in front of a convenience store. You've seen these types if you've ever had to go to one to score some milk, candy or sodas in a pinch. They think they have it all figured out and use it as a justification to go nowhere as they wax philosophical about life while they chain smoke.

As a 24 year old with a chip on his shoulder, selecting this work to do scene from seemed to be a perfect fit. I found a partner, a gorgeous female, and we were to do the one scene which I could not pull off. Perhaps the only part of the play that felt like a huge obstacle instead of fun: Opening up and expressing my feelings of fear and vulnerability over my character's girlfriend leaving for college and likely to bigger and better things. The scene commenced. Awkwardly I stumbled through, trying to find my grounding to power through this mess.....but I couldn't. Mercifully it ended and reactions from my fellow actors commenced. The first person to comment was an actress. I'll never forget what she said, "It seems like you had a lot of trouble expressing how much you care for her. But it's probably got nothing to do with your acting ability and more to do with the fact that you're a MAN."

The other actress nodded in a agreement and murmured in a "tell 'em sister" kind of way. I had no rebuttal, she was right.

Weakness

From an early age many of us boys who become "men" were not encouraged to express our feelings in anything that comes close to being articulate. Many, but not all of us, were taught to keep it inside to not dwell on it. Just keep moving on until things work themselves out. But the more we hold it in the more emotionally unavailable we become. We carry the weight with little left for anything else when an intimate relationship comes along.

We're told to be strong. Not flinch, be a man. Tough it out. Talk of feelings is not supposed to be in a man's arsenal of weapons. If we do open up we run the risk of looking weak, wimpy, or the ultimate kiss of death...sensitive.

Sensitive = Dead

Somewhere along the line the big thing for men to be was sensitive. In fact, some years ago all the talk on news programs that did a fluff piece on relationships heralded a "sensitive man" as the model that men should aspire to be. Think Tom Hanks in the film Big. The word sensitive in and of itself is not bad but the distortion of word is. To show understanding of someone else's feelings and your own in a way that's expressive and productive would technically be considered "sensitive." However the pop culture definition of sensitive, and the definition that prevails, is a guy who cries at the end of Little House on the Prairie reruns and pretty much lacks any spine when a confrontation arises. Most men don't want to go there. It betrays the code we're all taught while growing up to be a man. And women, most likely, will appreciate the sensitivity of a man when used at the right time and sparingly. While women may say they want a man that is sensitive, I feel they actually want a man that's dominant with genuine tendencies of sensitivity. There's a difference there, a big one. Unfortunately finding men that can walk this tightrope is difficult and many women wind up dating jerks. Why? They mistake the abusive behavior for dominance. They can't find a guy that can do both because we weren't adequately prepared to handle both while growing up.

So you may notice, ladies, that even the men who do not act like jerks have a sort of wall up. And at first that wall may seem exciting to you as what's behind it is a mystery. Women like to unlock the secrets of their men in due time. There's nothing wrong with this.

But perhaps the word sensitive should be put to rest as men who need to nurture a true sense of it, won't because the distorted definition prevails. And again, what man worth his salt wants to be that? Sensitivity, as we've wrongly come to understand it, is dead!

And it should stay that way.

But is it Feminine?

Another true story. A former best friend and I were at a bar watching a Knicks game and we were waiting for a woman who was interested in me to show up with her friend. As they entered we got to talking about how we were concerned about a mutual friend who was getting mixed up with the wrong woman and was playing all sorts of head games with him. He was in a wretched state and we hated to see him like this. The 2 women were fascinated by the discussion they were overhearing.

Woman #1: I'm really amazed by how feminine of a discussion you 2 can have about your friend. I didn't think men talked this way.

Woman #2: Yeah, it's really great that you 2 can talk like this.

Me: Feminine? What the fuck does that shit mean? We're worried about our friend who's dating a total bitch.

Woman #1: Yes but the way you were talking was not something we see guys do. I mean we women talk this way, but I didn't think men did.

Me: Explain this to me....

Woman #2: Well, we didn't think men really opened up with their feelings like this. My boyfriend and his friends don't.

Actually they probably do but far away from you because they don't want to reveal that part of themselves and be called feminine. Granted, there's nothing wrong with feminine if you're a woman or a very flamboyant man or drag queen. But for the rest of us guys, that word, like "sensitive" is the kiss of death.

Here''s another thing. Expression on feelings is not something exclusive to femininity. It's a human thing. Still it's not surprising that many women feel this way about men. They are going off experience.

There is more to our journey in discovering the difference between the sexes and I will share the rest of my thoughts in full.......

But not tonight. Tonight I will imagine a utopian world where male and female understand each other and make love....not war.

Coming up next.....Part II of why we become "men."

There are weeks at work where the sooner they end, the better. Last week was no exception. The autumn chill had really started to make itself felt that night. I was just getting out of work and wanted to go straight home but that wasn't going to happen. I noticed that the low fuel light had gone off. Yet another little blow to an overall shitty day. The good news is that there was a gas station nearby and given that it was 9 at night, I wouldn't have to wait in line. It would be quick and painless, something that is seemingly impossible to do in Stamford, CT.

Stamford is a small city with few buildings over 20 stories, yet it has all the congestion and bustle of midtown Manhattan. An odd juxtaposition but something I've learned to deal with.

Actually cope is a better word, but aren't we all?

EMPTY

The tank, the gas station and the feeling in my gut. I would get my gas, go home and sleep off the dull pain in my body and the numbness in my head. I figured I give a call to my Uncle A but got and abrupt "Let me call you back." I'd have to settle for the sound of the gas pump instead of conversation. I watched the numbers tick by, tallying up the the total that would be docked from my debit card when another car pulled up.

Still entranced by the flickering numbers that never seemed to stop going up, the other car's door opened.

The sound of heels on the pavement.

A nasty gust of wind.

The corner of my eye catching long brunette hair flowing and longer legs carrying a perfect body and beautiful face to the stations shop.

A glance over at me and I look away as not to be too obvious.

I like what I see.

Don't you like me?

Our leggy brunette returned to her car and began pumping her own gas. She was using the pump on the opposite side of mine. We were close but I lost my view. These devices are big, obstructive monstrosities. Amidst the sound of gas flowing through rubber tubes into our tanks I heard an unusual and most welcomed utterance.

"Don't you like me?"

What did she just say? Was that directed at me?

"Don't you like me?"

From what I see, yes! But was she speaking to a gas pump that didn't want to work? Or was it someone in her car? A boyfriend? A child? I can't tell because I CAN'T FUCKING SEE!

"Oh come on, don't you like me?"

CLUNK!

That's the sound the pump maid as my tank reached full. The receipt printed out and it was the perfect chance for me to grab it, toss it in the trash and sneak another look at our beauty.

Then our eyes would lock, she'd ask me that question again and I give a smile and say yes.

We'd kiss right there and we'd fuck with reckless abandon on the hood of her car not giving a shit who saw us!

We'd become an item and whenever we walked into a place we'd be the hottest damn couple there. I'd get used to the fact that other men would always be staring at her with lust instead of feeling a twinge of annoyance at their passive agressive advances. I'd do the same, how could I blame them? I'm the stud, they are not. Look and learn you bastards!! She's all mine!

And she's digs me for me and wouldn't care about the fact I wasn't the richest guy around or living in a small apartment as opposed to a penthouse.

The sight of her nude body would always instantly ignite the most intense fire I have ever felt. It would be a super nova! The sparks would never fade and other women would throw themselves at me because I'd be a hotter ticket than I already am. Yeah, that's the fucking ticket baby!!!!

(clears throat)

All I have to do is say yes to her question and it will all fall into place!

And then......I'd catch her cheating with another guy.

BITCH!

She's so full of herself that she's made it a habit of toying with men! I was just the latest victim. The path of broken hearts before me likely stretches to infinity and the path before me likely disappears into the horizon. Once conquered she'd be onto her next target. I would be left bewildered, confused and angry.

How can this be? How could I have been played for such a fool by this sociopath with perfect tits?

NO! I will not let this woman spray me down with gas and take a match to me! I will NOT answer her question and I will leave unscathed to fight another day!!!

Play your games somewhere else you fucking harlot!!!

Driving Off

As I drove off, I finally got a better look at her. Still as beautiful as when I saw her moments before. There was no one with her, no one was in the car, it was just her. She looked at me as if she were still waiting for my answer. I smiled and drove off.

Sometimes it's good to leave them guessing. Even if I'm left second guessing myself.

Coming up next on U N L O A D E D........

The boss who never was. Do you have that special someone at work who wants to be your boss but isn't and is basically in the same position as you? We'll take a look this cubicle dwelling subspecies.

And coming up later.....

Behold the Blackberry or is it the Crackberry? Is it helping my life or slowly destroying it?

Also to come.....

Dealing with defeat. I don't like to lose, not a bit. A look at how I'm dealing with it and a chance to share your thoughts on how you cope.

Well, my friends, the time has come for me to walk away from the computer and get a breath of fresh air. This season of U N L O A D E D has officially come to a close and the new season will begin on November 3rd. Mark your calendars!

Thanks to all who read and those who commented and sparked a nice discussion on the topics presented. You're all great.

An Invitation to U N L O A D

The hiatus does not mean the blog has to actually stop. If you'd like to U N L O A D with a guest post here then by all means drop me a line. Maybe the topic you wish to talk about does not fit with the scheme of your blog. This is your chance to do it elsewhere as you or any identity you choose. Write about what you want. It's just an idea and I don't expect to have any takers BUT it there if you want it.

Special Shout Out and Thank You

Before I go I'd also like to give a warm thank you and mention to the sensual and mysterious love goddess herself, Nellioness, for presenting me with The Awesome Guy Blogger award.

Nellioness said.....

"I like Ricardo and his ways. He is honest and fun blogger, whose blog is full of emotion, thoughts on life, sex beats, and masculine power. I personally visit him to get to know more about men. Thank you Ricardo, you’re an Awesome Guy Blogger, whether you like it or not."

Well Nellioness, I do like it. As a matter of fact, I love it and you may have shed some light on why I have so many female readers or......maybe women love reading about a male train wreck.

Nellioness has a great blog that pertains to one of my favourite matters; SEX. If such things make you squeamish, loosen up already and pay her a visit. If you enjoy the said topic, then by all means check her out. I intend to use some of her tips on the right lady when the opportunity presents itself. I'll stop there as I've said too much.

Scandalous

I will be adding some much needed testosterone to the estrogen laden gab fest known as Scandelous Bitches Live. I was a bit reluctant at first but since my good blogging friend Monique asked me, how could I refuse? I will be the selfish bastard among the bitches.

You can catch my special guest star appearance LIVE on 9/26 at 9PM ET. Just click the picture that looks like the one I have up here once you get to their site.

Be warned, I have no clue what will happen to me. Listen, call into the show, enjoy, be scandalous.

A Few Things to Chew On

Just a few topics to weigh in on before I go.

Killer MILF?

Let me just say that whenever a child goes missing it's a tragedy. Most people (including myself) truly hope that the child is found alive, in good health, and returned to their parents.

However, as the search for the missing child drags on, peoples minds begin to shift onto other things. Such is the case of Kate MaCann, mother of the the missing girl known as Madeline. The search for this young girl who went missing while the family was on holiday in Portugal has been all over the news. The case has even caught the attention of football (soccer) star David Beckham and British Billionaire Richard Branson. Both have vowed to help the family even after allegations have surfaced that the mother, Kate, might have killed her daughter. I don't buy that accusation myself but the bigger debate I stumbled on while cruising the internet is NOT if she killed her child, but if she's hot or not.

Is this depravity or simply human nature to get our minds off of the grim tone of the case?

Discuss!

Leave Brit Alone?

Look already, Brittany Spears will never be hot to me again for as long as I live. Too many stories about smelly feet, eating Cheetos and questionable actions to warrant a nod from yours truly. You've got the terrible performance at the MTV VMAs to cringe at and that crazy "Leave Brittany Alone" guy on Youtube keeping her alive and well in the headlines. All of it is distracting us from more serious stuff. You can't get away from this chick!

Then there was all the talk about her weight. Is this fat? No! Is it a bit of a gut? Yes! But nothing that a few minutes on a treadmill couldn't sort out. The rub to all of this? There are many women that would still love to have this body and many men that would be happy to have some of it every night. Would I prefer to nail a woman with this body type as opposed to some of the other singing starlets like Amy Winehouse who are in desperate need of a sandwich?

YEP!

These 2 types may not the ideal for fantasy but Brit's bod is certainly more preferable in reality.

Barry Bonds

His team of 15 years, the San Francisco Giants, doesn't want him back despite breaking Hammerin' Hank's home run record.

I wonder why?

Could it have been all the fucking steroids he used to cheat his way to the top and the fact his one of the worlds biggest assholes?

Nah, couldn't be any of those things.

Stupid Art Projects

Listen, I don't fucking care if you go to M.I.T. and have scholarships up the ass. If you walk into an airport with a circuit board stuck to a ratty sweatshirt and a wad of clay in your hand, people are going to take notice! Actually some people, known as airport security, will be happy to fucking shoot you!

What may be cute and whimsical on campus (your insulated world) usually won't work in the real world. What you and your dorm buddies find cleaver and intellectual is really nothing more than your wheels spinning in the mud. There is art, ladies and gentleman, and there is stupidity grafted into an unhealthy sense of self importance and narcissism. Sure, there are lots of smart kids in college, they're called the C students.

They, with the exception of our President George Bush, have one thing that the super scholarship kids don't have: COMMON SENSE AND BETTER HAIRCUTS!!!!

Sorry to be harsh babe, but you asked for it. Count your blessings that you even have a boyfriend.

Art or stupidity? Discuss!

Kid Nation

Well, those of you that have not been under a rock here in the US have likely heard, read or seem something about this show Kid Nation. In it, kids are left to run a town (or is it a commune or compound) out in the middle of nowhere and make things work without the aid of adults. It's Lord of the Flies all over again! And why not? That story ended so well! Let's try it for real? And even better, let's do the show in New Mexico where there are almost no child labor laws!!! And for the few laws that do exist, we'll get around it by calling it....."camp."

Ah, I smell a hit here. Actually, no, I don't.

The show is likely scripted with little if any reality and the kids on the show likely have parents that want their kids to be a "star." Then they can quit working and live off the kids riches. America is great that way. Too bad these parents didn't have the nerve of pursuing their own dreams instead of forcing their kids to make up for what they lost.

Some call it a legacy, I call it bullshit!

The Jena 6

Do I think there is still racial disparity in our justice system? Yes! Would I, in my right mind, ever live in the south? NO! Does this case surprise me at all? No! Have race relations hit rock bottom for the town of Jena? Yes. Can it get any worse? No. Am I sure? No. Can't we all just get along? I hope so.

And that's it for now everybody!! See you next season on November 3rd!!!!

She radiates a sunlight of her own. Her body is the portrait of perfection, accentuated by the way she dresses and moves in the summer heat. She turns heads as she passes by and amidst the flattery feels a sense of entitlement.

She's worked hard to look good and the payoff is one of life sweetest rewards. She has turned the tables, using her femininity NOT to just attract men....but to hunt them.

She stands confidently at the edge of a dance floor or patio of an outdoor bar, scanning the scene. This is a woman that knows what she wants and will get it with a firm, lustful glance and a smile. She is the summer huntress.

They are out, en masse, in every city where the night brings a life of it's own. For they are the very essence of the night life of which I write of.

Only in the summer is a woman's sensuality heightened to the point that one can smell and taste it in the air. Perhaps it's the display of flesh, perhaps it's a shift in mood. Indeed, there is talk of spring fever and how it's the time to fall in love or meet that special someone. But it is merely a warm up for the final, most exciting act; the summer.

Legs that go on forever, breasts that reveal themselves through thinner shirts, the firm glistening, bodies of women on the beach or going out for a jog.....minds as sharp as a blade......

Yes, their spell is a powerful one that we mortal men can try to resist but will ultimately fail on every count. Our knees weaken, our mouths fall open, we fumble for words, a visceral fire erupts. She will use her arms, hands, lips, the scent of her hair, and legs to caress, tantalize and subdue. Our defenses are useless. There is no one to help us, nor do we want it.

The summer huntress puts us in a trance, leads us to a night of excitement and breaks us to do her bidding. She knows of this power and uses it with surgical precision. Their lust and desire for a roll in the sack is equal to that of we men and in some cases, even more so. Once they have placed us in their sights, it is they who will chew us up and spit us out.

All so they can do it again when another summer night begins. We are gratified, expendable assets. A dish devoured and discarded the moment satisfaction has been achieved. We are left exhausted, enthralled and bemused by it all.

Such is the way of the huntress. We can only pray to be in her line of fire again before the fall comes.


Next on U N L O A D E D, a look at why we blog. How much time do we sacrifice? Does it help or hurt us? Why do we keep coming back?

With summer here and the temperature rising the mind seems to slide into a much different gear than the norm. Wants and needs become a bit more passionate and aggression becomes a bit more prominent resulting in either getting what you want or an unnecessary fight. While summer should be a time of relaxation and peaceful cohabitation the human drive seems to be amplified especially in terms of sex. Some of my best "stories" have happened during the summer and the energy between myself and the female counterpart in question has always been hotter then the most intense heat wave imaginable.

Words are substituted with glances and smiles. Assertiveness becomes a long deep gaze into the eyes. Acceptance is no longer a "yes" but simply grabbing and taking what you want and devouring. Inhibition is lost within moments as opposed to hours, days or weeks. It's primal, it's real, the hunt is on. What is it about the summer that causes this? Your guess is as good as mine, dear readers, for your fellow blogger has been hunted, preyed upon and loved every moment of it. Perhaps you have as well and loved it just as much as I have. Here's hoping that it happens again before the summer is over.

But summer lust need not involve things that are just canal as much as I love all things pertaining to the subject. Below is a list of other ""triggers" (along with some carnal) that seem to set me into a hunger in the summer time.

Summer Lust Triggers

A quality light coloured beer (not calories) served ice cold. But even a Carona with lime will suffice.

Authentic Italian ice usually made in a small shop in a predominantly Italian neighborhood. Not the lousy store bought kind.

Maria Sharapova. (pictured just below in a very summery white on the tennis court) 'Nuff said.

Any Cold Stone Creamery I pass. I have to run in and order something.

Any attractive woman comfortable showing her long legs in the right summer outfit. Be it the right shorts or a skirt, I will spot them from a mile away and lust for them.

Laying about in the warmth and sun and simply doing nothing.

The right woman in a bikini.

A bikini car wash. Let's face it gentleman, when else will every possible view out of your car be as majestic?

Jumping into a pool.

A nice cool shower, but not too cold.

Snacking on grapes and strawberries or feeding them to the right someone.

Sweating, heaving, breasts. A bit much but I'm a man and hold no regrets over this statement.

Dancing all night with a lovely lady! Working up a sweat while the drink and song flow freely as well as our hands over our bodies. The slight taste of sweat as I kiss her neck and the friction of our bodies coming together. This, my friends, is what I call living.

Sitting back and watching the sunset alone or with the right woman next to me. Preferably with the latter.

Next up on U N L O A D E D.......

Examining the mind and body of the summer huntress.

This is it ladies and gents, the final battle. It all started with a mysterious email from a woman named Olenka who appeared to be seeking love but wanted my credit card info and from there I was pulled into the world of mail order brides. A cheesy enterprise, yes, but one that still pulls in millions from wealthy men around the world. And what type of wealthy man would pursue this?

I went trying to find that out. At first glance I can see how it would be tempting to many men but the time and money needed to follow this plan through is vast. Never the less, some will do it and with gusto!

Have a look at this. Trust me, it's worth the watch. And if you don't watch it, the rest of the post isn't going to make much sense!



Wow! Tell me ladies, which one stole your heart? I don't think these men are all inherently bad. In fact, there is one frustrated man that I can, in some ways, relate to but still would not go this far much less marry her. Tour groups like this go out to these countries all the time to meet at socials in hopes that they can connect with the woman of their dreams. Such a tour goes for a few grand a pop. Most of the time it does not include airfare but you get a hotel room and guide and sometimes one on one meetings with prospective ladies with the aid of a translator. You can go out for lunch or a stroll around town.

Ah, The Romance

I think while many of these men might like the idea of "ownership" over someone, others seem like they probably had their hearts stomped on one too many times and decided to take matters into their own hands. I mean, just look at the last guy in the video. I can see women eating him alive in all the wrong ways. For these types of men, such services insulate them in a way. For one, it gives more opportunity in their minds to find "the sure thing" which is out the window if you are at a local bar or something. It's a controlled environment where rejections sting doesn't hurt as much because the men are seemingly at a greater advantage. They don't have to pursue as much because it is the women that are desperately trying to escape their homeland. The men can just pick and choose, or so they think. I say think because the woman never have to reveal their true intentions either. They can just play along and reduce the man to putty in her hands. Did we see this in any of the video readers? I bet you did! And once the guy does get her home you could always wind up with this.



She wants to have a WHAT at the 1 minute mark in the video? Is Masha a performance artist, satirist, or a bona fide bride from Russia living in the UK?!?!? Perhaps we'll never know but there are other Masha's out there, planning, scheming, dreaming.

I Don't Need No Stinkin' Russian Mail Order Bride!

I had a chance to talk to the Russian woman at my synagogue again this week where I broached the topic once more. Remember, she suspected them of being KGB agents.

ME: I got an email from a Russian mail order bride named Olenka.

Her: No! No! No! No! No mail order bride for Ricardo. No good. You must not!

Me: I think they're a bit crazy to do this.

Her: They crazy and alcoholics! They lazy and no work! No! No! No! I have niece from Russia studying in Israel now. She go back to Russia soon. Perhaps I make match for her with you.

What have I done?

The Lonely Hearts Club

The reasons for both men and women taking the plunge into these ventures are about as varied as you can get. Sure there are the prostitute and pimp types but there are also those that are so lonely they will resort to anything to stop the hurt. We all want someone to cure us of our emptiness, "complete" us as the ridiculous line in Jerry McGuire went, and feel desired in ways that you can't get from family or owning a pet. This is a natural human need if used in the right context but we tend to distort it. I, for one, never believed that I needed to fall in love to be "complete" because no one "completes me" but me. I think that's goes for everyone else also.

We are bombarded with love songs and images that don't really profess love but codependency. We look for magic when we should be looking for common ground. We seek to bridge the gap between fantasy and reality and sometimes it works, other times it does not. One thing is for certain, as long as these human needs exist, there will always be Russian mail order brides.

I think I might have found mine if I were serious about it. A little bit girl next door, a little bit Black Widow and every bible thumping redneck's worst nightmare. LOL!!!

Behold, Marvel Comics heroine Natasha Romanova aka The Black Widow. Thought to be a descendant of one of the last ruling czars of Russia, Natasha was rescued from a burning building (set ablaze by the Nazis) in Stalingrad by a Russian soldier. She had dreams of becoming a ballerina but later trained with the KGB to become one of the most skilled and deadly operatives ever. Although old enough to have experienced World War II, the Black Widow does not age. She was injected with a super serum which has kept her in peak physical condition over the last several decades. Her hand to hand combat skills are unmatched, she is able to take on superheroes far stronger than she is while maintaining the upper hand. She fires a cable from her bracelets known as the "widows line" and the "widows bite" which electrocutes her enemies with up to 30,000 volts. Her boots and gloves allow her to cling to surfaces and her belt contains some nasty plastic explosives.

If our Russian mail order bride possessed any of these skills then your blogger would be little match for such a refined fighting machine. My dim witted charms would do little to stop her from crushing me into the finest of powders which could be scattered along the Siberian snow drifts. Do recall in our previous post that a Russian woman from my synagogue strongly believed that these brides were indeed KGB agents. But even the legendary Black Widow needed to be rescued from a burning building just like these brides. Rescue, after all, is what we men do now and then to the delight of many women. And you do like it ladies, no matter how many of you out there hate to admit it and profess independence. While having autonomy does indeed make you stronger, a rescue is fun for you once and awhile. You like to have that soldier out there to protect you at the right moments, dominate you at other moments, this I know as fact.

But was I the right soldier for these brides?

The Match Up

Is did a preliminary signing with one of the many online agencies. I've given up on my first prospect, Olenka, who may be stuck in some all womens gulag near Chernobyl. I did not provide any credit card info to these services as it was too close for comfort. I just wanted to see how I would stack up against one of these beauties. After filling in my info, likes and dislikes, I was blasted with a pretty large cross section of women who appeared to be right off the page of a fashion magazine. I could close my eyes and point to any part of the screen and come up with a 10. These women simply could not be real. At least, not in the position where they had to find a man. They were educated, hot and skilled in many languages. Picking one was like splitting hairs. As soon as I found one, there was another that escaped my eye in the lower corner of the screen. It was overload.

Then....I saw her...Viktoria from Voronezh, Russia. She was interested in the fine arts, cinema (not movies), and writing. She was 26, an accountant (what?) but her English needs some work. Would I be the willing tutor or victim?

It's doubtful that any of this is real but as they do in Boxing, here's the tale of the tape.

Her

Name: Viktoria
Age: 26
Birth Date: 09/29/1980
Horoscope Sign: Libra
Height: 5' 5" (167 cm)
Weight: 103 lbs (47 kg)
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blond
Marital Status: NM
Children: No
Occupation: Accountant
Education: College degree
Religion: Russian Orthodox
Drinking: Never Smoking: No
Residence: Voronezh, Russia
English Speaking Skills*: Limited Beginner
Other languages: No

Me

Name: Ricardo
Age:31
Birth Date: Some time in the mid 70's
Horoscope Sign: Aries
Height: 6'(anyone want to do a cm conversion on this? I failed math! 183 cm? Yeah? No?)
Weight: A svelte 185 lbs (84kg)
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Marital Status: Single and proud of it.
Children: Are you out of your mind?
Occupation: Network TV trafficking hack!
Education: Some college, some school of hard knocks.
Religion: Hedonistic Jew
Residence: Connecticut, USA
English Speaking Skills: I likes to be speakin' Ing-lish all dayz!
Other Languages: I should, but no because I likes to be speakin' Ing-lish all dayz!

So Who REALLY Uses These Places?

She's a knock out, ain't she? While I can't handle this black widow other men may try. But who are they and why would they? You may have your answers but I also have mine and they may be much different than what you would expect. Next time I'm going to give you the low down down on why I think some men turn to these services and why I think women volunteer for them. I don't think it's as clear cut as some of you may think. And you will read about why I feel that way here on this blog, in full detail, for your reading pleasure.

But not tonight.

Tonight my thoughts and dreams will be haunted with the prospect of receiving the "widows bite" and fighting off the poisons of these sirens should I receive it.

Surf the internet enough and you're bound to come across one of the most unusual match making schemes that thrives online; Russian mail order brides. Can I really have my own Maria Sharapova, Anna Kournikova or Mila Jovovich clone sent to me from a far away land provided that we hit it off via email correspondence? Probably not, maybe yes. But only a very slight yes. Like a million to one or was I being too pessimistic? I decided to try my hand when this little email that came my way.

Privet, gentleman

After the long searches I have found you and I am very glad. I miss
something big in my life, I am lonely in this huge world and the
loneliness is killing me. I want to find a husband. And I decided to
write to you.
I am an ordinary girl. I am pretty, smart and sensitive. I like
people, new places and nature. I am very romantic and believe in good.
I am religious and I pray every day.
If you are interested to know me better,
please see me here http://theloveisonline.com/darling


Looking forward to hear from you soon
Olenka

Ah yes, Olenka. Beautiful, smart...lonely. How could this be? Being a man of lustful virtue I decided to hop on over to the url she provided but in a matter of hours the website was gone, but was our dear Olenka also? I fired back an email.

Olenka, I am most intrigued. But since you are emailing me from a company based in the US, I'm a bit perplexed. Is this really you? Forgive me for being presumptuous, but with a name like Olenka, I reckon you're somewhere out in Russia, yes?

Olenka is most likely a phishing scam. But if not, will she respond? Does true love await our intrepid blogger? Or am I in grave danger?


Forbidden Fruit

I had an opportunity to talk to a woman who was from Russia at my synagogue. A robust, rugged, friendly, middle aged woman, she fit the old school definition of how we used to view the women of the Iron Curtain. But times have changed and hostility has turned into friendships between our 2 nations. I've always been fascinated by the Russian culture. I never felt that they were the true enemy to begin with. It was a PR battle with each side flexing it's military muscle. It was foolish and a waste of time and energy on the part of both sides. There was so much I wanted to ask her about St. Petersburg, Moscow and the current state of it's citizenry since communism had fallen some years ago. Then I dropped the bombshell:

Me: What's up with the Russian mail order brides?

Her: Oh, mail order bride, yes, I know many. No good Ricardo. No Good. Stay away from them.

Me: But why are so many women ready to drop everything and come over here for a guy they don't even know? I mean, some of the pictures I've seen...they're pretty hot.

Her: Yes Ricardo, they tall, young and beautiful. It is plan, you see.

Me: Plan!?!

Her: Many are KGB. Government hire pretty young girls to get in here and spy for Russia. If not KGB, then military.

Me: WHAT!?!? But isn't the KGB gone? Didn't they get rid of that stuff long ago?

Her: New name, new flag, new anthem but still same old Russia. You might find nice Russian girl for you one day, but never mail order bride Ricardo. If not KGB then they will seduce you to take money for Russian mob. I know these kind. Be very careful Ricardo.

Me: Fuck yeah. (grabbing a little cup of wine and raising it) L'Chaim!

While I have yet to find a Russian girl, I did have quite a time with a bombshell from the former Yugoslavia a few years ago, we'll call her Anna. We did things, unspeakable things, in the most public of places together. It remained our secret as those around us never suspected a thing and it will remain such, as a gentleman never tells. Anna, you were wonderful. Perhaps our paths will cross once more.


From Russia with Love?

Whilst I await for Olenka to get back to me, I took a gander at many of the Russian dating sites that will act as a facilitator between you and the Russian babe of your dreams. It was in looking at these that I realized many of the women are actually Ukrainian. While some of you may shrug and think it's the same thing, it's not really. They were linked together back in the days of the U.S.S.R but now they are independent countries who always had different cultures. I'm not sure why they are called Russian mail order brides then.

These sites allow you to sign up for 19.95 a month where you can view videos of your wife to be, send emails to them OR talk to them on the phone with the aid of a translator (for a fat fee) to get the ball rolling. Some offer a pay as you go plan which lets you email any woman you want for 5 bucks a pop. And I thought match.com was a rip off.

Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to see some of these videos to get a feel for what these women are like. I'm also sure you don't want to go through the hassle of registering on these sites. Neither do I, and thanks to youtube, we don't have to! Let's have a look.



Attractive, sincere, friendly. Or is she?

Here's another.



Pretty hot as well. I can't see how either of these women are single.

Coming up later, what kind of Russian bride would one of these sites match up with me? Tune in later as I go stat for stat against a beautiful Russian mail order bride.