Category Archives: Jack Fisher’s Insights

What My Mother Taught Me About Being A Better Man (With Roller Coasters)

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Whenever I get a little personal on this site, I often focus on two topics. One is how awful high school was for me. The other is how awesome my parents are. I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m bragging, but I’m just being honest and truthful. They really are that awesome and I intend to belabor that every chance I get.

As it just so happens, Mother’s Day is tomorrow and since I have such a wonderful mother, I’d like to share a personal story that I hope conveys a larger message about masculinity, in general. I promise this isn’t going to be another complex exploration about bogus topics like “toxic” masculinity or double standards. It’s just a simple story about my amazing mom and how she helped me grow into a better man.

There are a long list of stories I could share. Some of those stories I’m sure my mother would prefer I kept private. There are plenty others I’m sure my mom would love for me to share, if only to document some of the more memorable moments our family has shared over the years. Since I know she occasionally reads this site, I think she’ll agree that this is definitely one worth sharing.

That’s because it involves roller coasters. That’s not some elaborate metaphor. I’m dead serious. This is a story about me, my mother, and roller coasters. It’s kind of what it sounds like, but I promise it has other, more meaningful connotations that I think are wholly appropriate on the eve of Mother’s Day.

First, I need to provide a little context. This particular moment occurred when I was around ten-years-old. That’s relevant because that was the age when I was finally tall enough to ride most of the rides at amusement parks like Six Flags and Kings Dominion. As it just so happens, both are within a two hour drive of where we lived.

My mom, being the wonderful person she is, used that as opportunity to plan a day-long trip to Kings Dominion. I went with my younger brother, my aunt, and a cousin of mine. It was blazing hot, but being an energetic kid, I was too excited to care. I don’t even remember complaining with my mom urged me to put on extra sunscreen.

After spending about an hour just exploring the park, doing some small rides and playing some games, we came across a roller coaster that, to my 10-year-old mind, might as well have been Mount Everest. I’m not saying I was an overly fearful kid, but this was uncharted territory for me. My first instinct was not to go on such a ride.

To some extent, that was my default instinct to that point in my life. I know kids at that age can be both frustratingly reckless or annoyingly helpless with very little in between. It’s an age where kids still cling to the safety of their parents, but are just starting to feel that inclination to explore the world.

I was probably more reluctant than most kids my age. Both my parents and siblings would probably admit that I was a very self-disciplined kid, often to a fault. I did not like going out of my comfort zone and taking chances. I even complained when I had to, as kids are prone to do.

On that day at Kings Dominion, though, my mom gave me an extra push. She never shoved me or pressured me. She got encouraged me, getting excited about the ride so that I got excited too. Before long, that excitement overrode any fear or reservations I had. Thanks to that encouragement, I went on the ride with her and to this date, I feel like that was a pivotal moment in my young life.

At the time, though, it was just an incredible thrill. I loved it. I loved it even more than my mom promised. I remember getting off that ride, feeling dizzy and unable to stand. I probably looked like I was drunk, but I didn’t care. I had so much fun and so did my mom. We went on that ride again.

It was the first of many. From that day forward, my mother and I became the roller coaster aficionados of the family. Whenever we went to an amusement park, be it Kings Dominion, Six Flags, or Disney World, my mom and I would jump at the chance to ride the biggest, scariest ride. Sometimes friends, siblings, and cousins would join us. Other times, they would chicken out. My mom and I never did.

Those were wonderful times. They’re among some of the fondest memories I have with my mother as a kid. Beyond the thrills and adrenaline, though, I find those experiences had another effect on me. This effect was more personal, though. It also played a major part in the critical, yet often treacherous process of a kid growing into an adult.

By taking a chance on those roller coasters, doing something risky for once, my mom taught me a valuable lesson about being an adult and a man. She showed me that sometimes, we need to embrace a little danger. We need to leave the safety of the familiar and explore new, potentially hazardous experiences.

That kind of mentality takes both bravery and even a little foolishness. It’s a combination of traits often associated with masculinity, being willing and able to take those risks for new and exciting experiences. I’m not saying that men are the only ones who have such risk-seeking behavior. Women can be every bit as adventurous, as my mother so aptly demonstrated.

For me, the ten-year-old boy who still saw himself as such, those experiences marked the early steps of a more profound maturation process. It wasn’t just that I was now old enough and tall enough to ride all the roller coasters at most theme parks. I realized that my experiences didn’t just have to be kid-friendly experiences.

I could take chances, venture into once-forbidden areas, and explore life in ways I hadn’t dared. Doing that can be scary and sometimes requires a little encouragement, not unlike the kind my mother gave me that day at Kings Dominion. It can also be very rewarding, as the rush from an awesome thrill ride so wonderfully proves.

I was still a shy, reserved person, even as I entered adulthood. I still took longer than most to emerge from my shell. However, thanks to my wonderful mother and her loving encouragement to try out a few thrill rides, I understood what it meant to be an adult and a strong man.

To my mother, and all those wonderful mothers who encourage their children with the same love and care, I thank you. You helped teach me how to be brave, how to embrace the adult world, and how awesome roller coasters are. For that, I will be forever grateful. To her and to all the other mother’s out there, Happy Mother’s Day!

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Filed under gender issues, Jack Fisher's Insights

The (Fragile) State Of Modern Chivalry

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These days, you can’t go more than a few days without hearing someone complaining that chivalry is dead, dying, or some elaborate patriarchal conspiracy to keep women in their place. A few are even arguing it’s part of some matriarchal conspiracy to control men. The very concept of chivalry is in a precarious state is what I’m saying.

Now, I’m somewhat hesitant to write about this because in my experience, both in real life and online, it brings out a lot of mixed sentiments. I’ve met men who resent it. I’ve met women who are outright offended by it. No matter how I approach it, there’s no way to avoid rubbing certain people the wrong way.

Hesitation aside, I do feel compelled to talk about it because the idea of modern chivalry, the kind that involves common courtesy and not the medieval kind that made high school English class so frustrating, is kind of personal to me. That’s because I had awesome, loving parents who went out of their way to teach me and my siblings the manners, attitude, and mentality that go into modern chivalry.

They may not have built their entire parenting strategy around it, but I like to think that them emphasizing it was part of a larger life lesson. It’s one that effects me to this day. I still make it a point to hold doors, pull out chairs, and address people as sir/ma’am. If I don’t, then I feel like I’m not showing the respect I want.

It may not sound like much, but I find myself wondering and worrying about the state of this gender-driven quirk. Some of that worry stems from how relevant those vital lessons my parents taught me are today and whether they’re losing relevance with each passing year. That might just be a byproduct of me getting older, but it does concern me, if only because I feel there’s a lot of gender-driven conflict these days.

To understand why, I need to give a little background as to just how my parents instilled an appreciation of modern chivalry in me and, as a bonus, demonstrate why they’re so awesome. While both my parents were big on teaching me and my siblings manners, my father was more focused in emphasizing courteous behavior.

As a kid, I remember more than one occasion where we would go out somewhere and my father told me to hold the door for women and/or total strangers coming up behind you. It wasn’t just for women either. He made it clear that if you have a chance to hold the door for someone, you do it and you be a gentleman about it.

I only remembered why it was so important on the occasions I forgot. There was this one time when I was around 10-years-old that my parents took me and my siblings to the mall. I, being an overly excited kid, ran out ahead to get inside. In doing so, I forgot to hold the door for a woman and her daughter. My dad did not approve of that.

I vividly recall him catching up with me, grabbing me by the arm, and telling me that if I’m going to run out ahead like that, I damn well better hold the door like a goddamn gentleman. Remember, I was only 10 at the time and my father was holding me to higher standards than that. At the time, I was kind of annoyed, but as I got older, I came to appreciate that lesson.

There were probably other similar incidents. My dad, who I know occasionally reads this site, can probably remember plenty of others like that. I hope they’re still relatively few because as I got older, things like holding doors, pulling out chairs, and saying sir/ma’am became second nature to me. It got to a point where I really didn’t think about it.

Then, in a more recent incident, I had an encounter that kind of worried me. I was walking around my neighborhood. I then make my way into a fast food restaurant for a quick lunch. Since an older woman was behind me, I held the door for them. She smiled and thanked me. I replied with a simple, “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

It was that last part, though, that got a stronger reaction. She was genuinely surprised when I said “ma’am.” It was a pleasant surprised, though. She even went out of her way to thank me for being so courtesy, claiming she doesn’t hear that sort of rhetoric much anymore.

Now, this was not some old woman longing for the good old days, mind you. This woman didn’t look that much older than me. It really caught me off-guard, mostly because I was just doing what my parents had taught me to do all my life. It also kind of worried me, too.

That’s not the first time something like that happened. I’ve said “sir/ma’am” to strangers before and gotten strange looks, both from older and younger crowds. I’ve noticed the older women, though, are the ones that react most often to it. They tend to react most positively as well. Women who are around my age or younger just smile and shrug it off, as though it’s no big deal.

I’m honestly not sure what to make of it. I understand my experiences are purely anecdotal and it’s unreasonable to make broad generalizations about society, as a whole. However, the more reactions of this sort that I encounter, the more I worry that the value of modern chivalry is declining.

That worry, though, is not akin to some old man longing for the good old days. I understand that the good old days are never as good as we remember. I feel a more pressing concern is how this attitude reflects the growing tension between genders that seems to fuel so many conflicts, these days.

I’ve talked about a few of those conflicts, including the absurd ones. A part of me can’t help but wonder whether the lack of a reaction I get from younger women on my chivalrous acts reflects a distressing trend in attitudes towards men, in general.

I worry that recent scandals, trends in feminism, and even a few trends in men’s rights activism are conditioning people to just assume the worst in men, even when they demonstrate good conduct. Assuming the worst in any situation is usually the first step towards falling into a nasty cycle of self-fulfilling prophecies.

In that context, there’s no behavior, chivalrous or otherwise, that can convince anyone that they’re just trying to be polite. I hold a door for a woman with those assumptions and she won’t see it as good manners. She’ll just see it as some elaborate effort to get into her pants or somehow draw her into a system of patriarchal oppression.

The assumptions are just as bad for the men. I hold a door for a man, or just get seen holding the door for a woman, and the assumption is I’m trapped in some radical feminist agenda that seeks to turn all men into weak, submissive, beta-males. Again, it overlooks the mere possibility that it’s just the kind, courteous, polite thing to do.

I sincerely hope this is just empty concern on my part and the observations I’ve made are just a byproduct of growing cynicism. I also hope that the current state of gender politics doesn’t reduce the concept of modern chivalry to an agenda. Just acting like a decent human being to other people, regardless of their gender, should never be an agenda.

It’ll be interesting to see how the current social landscape evolves over the next several years. How it sees and interprets modern chivalry will reveal a lot about the direction we’re heading with respect to how men and women relate to one another. If every little action suddenly becomes part of an agenda, then I imagine it’ll get a lot harder to just show common courtesy to someone.

I hope it doesn’t get that bad. I sincerely hope that the lessons my parents taught me about showing good manners and common courtesy are just as relevant in the future as they are now. If I ever get around to having kids, I intend to teach them those same lessons.

Some things just don’t need to be part of a gender-driven conflict. They can just be an overly-formal way of showing respect to one another. Call it what you want, be it modern chivalry or just not being an asshole to someone. There’s still a place for it in any society and I believe there always will be.

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Filed under gender issues, Jack Fisher's Insights, Marriage and Relationships, romance

Five Life Lessons I Learned During My First Visit To A Strip Club

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What can you learn at a strip club that can help you with life in general? That’s not a rhetorical question or something Glenn Quagmire said on an episode of “Family Guy.” That’s a legitimate question with real answers. I know that because I’ve been to strip clubs. I’ve contemplated those questions. I’ve also surmised my share of answers.

I won’t claim those answers are definitive. Everyone’s experience at strip clubs are different, be they of the male or female variety. However, during that fateful first visit to a strip club, I found myself learning a whole lot more than I expected. I went in just hoping to see beautiful women getting naked. It ended up being much more than that.

I’ve shared my love of Las Vegas before. I’ve shared experiences I had and even based one of my novels on both Las Vegas and strippers. The city is near and dear to my heart, is what I’m saying. It’s one big spectacle, one that goes out of its way to overtly sexy. There are sexy shows to see, sexy sites to visit, and plenty of sexy people in general just walking the strip.

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For a lover of romance and all things sexy, Las Vegas is a fantasy paradise. I learned that quickly during my first visit, which occurred shortly after I turned 21. It was a truly magical experience at a time in my life when I was just starting to come out of the shell I’d built around myself during high school.

One of those experiences, naturally, involved my first trip to a strip club. Needless to say, I was excited and anxious. This would be the first time I would be in an adult establishment where I could admire abundant nudity on something other than a computer screen. Like everything else in Las Vegas, it blurred the lines between fantasy and reality in the best possible way.

I won’t share all the details of that first strip club experience, but I will gladly share some of the critical life lessons I learned that night. Out of respect for the women I saw and any legal ramifications, I won’t say which strip club I went to. I’ll just say it was a fairly prominent one that most Las Vegas veterans have heard of.

Again, I won’t claim that these lessons are the definitive insights a man can glean from his first trip to a strip club. Everyone is going to learn different lessons from different experiences. These are just the five lessons I learned during that fateful first adventure into this sexy world.


Lesson #1: Admire, Don’t Stare (And Know The Difference)

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The first thing I noticed when I walked into that strip club for the first time was there was a lot to see. This was Las Vegas, after all. Las Vegas is to strippers what the Pro Bowl is to the NFL. You go into a Las Vegas strip club and you won’t see any rookies. You’ll only see seasoned pros who have the stats, talent, and game.

That said, just looking at all the beautiful women isn’t enough. Staring won’t cut it either. Most women, strippers or otherwise, don’t want to be looked at the same way most look at a golden toilet seat. They want to be admired. Give them that admiration and they’ll show their appreciation, sometimes very directly.

That involves doing more than just staring blankly at a topless woman. It involves smiling, moving a little to the music, and clapping when she does something amazing like hang upside down from one leg. Throw in a few tips and she’ll appreciate it. If she’s generous, she’ll even reward that admiration with some of her own.

During my first visit, I made it a point to single out certain women who was uniquely endowed for her job. By that, I mean she had breasts that were about as natural as the Hoover Dam. As I admired her every move, she responded by mashing my fast between her breasts after I tipped her. That, in many ways, showed me how much more valuable it was to admire a woman rather than just stare at her.

There is a difference. To know the difference, spend some time in front of a mirror. Take a moment to just stare blankly at yourself. Then, put a little effort into admiring yourself. The difference should be obvious. It’s just much more obvious for strippers.


Lesson #2: Personality Helps, But Energy Helps More

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I admit when I first entered the strip club, I was shy and overwhelmed. My social skills were way behind to curve, thanks to all the issues I had in high school. However, I was at a phase in my life when I was just starting to catch up. I wasn’t some moody, self-loathing teenager anymore. I was an adult man with an emerging persona.

That persona helped me stand out in a crowded strip club. I was young, eager, and full of excitement at all the sight of naked women. I admit it was a little immature because of my youth, but I made up for it by having a respectable, endearing personality. The women at the club really responded to it.

However, personality only went so far. That only informed them that I was a decent guy who wasn’t going to drool over them like a slob. To show I was worth getting to know, I had to put a little effort into the experience. I had to take some of that youthful energy I had and make it stand out.

That meant clapping more, cheering more, and smiling more. I showed genuine excitement for the women as they danced, giving compliments and even dancing a little in my seat. I definitely showed more energy than the older guys around me and the fact that the women gave me more attention showed there’s something to be said about channeling your energy.

Excitement is infectious. When someone near you is excited, you tend to get excited to. Human beings are a social species. Strippers are human too and they’re just as prone to getting excited. Sure, it’s part of their job, but a little excitement in your work helps make that work all the more rewarding.


Lesson #3: Half-Truths Are Better Than Outright Lies

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This is one of the tougher lessons I learned in my first visit to a strip club. Las Vegas is a fantasy town and people love fantasy, in general. There’s a time to be blunt and brutally honest about who you are or why you’re doing something. A strip club in Las Veags isn’t one of them.

That doesn’t mean lying, though. I came into that strip club with a roll of $20s. I even made sure that roll was thicker than it really was, which the Bouncer seemed to notice. That, in turn, got me a front-row seat and some extra attention from the bartender. I didn’t tell them that I wasn’t the son of a wealthy hedge fund manager. I did’t tell them I wasn’t, either. Sometimes, it doesn’t hurt to let others assume.

When talking to the strippers, though, you can’t rely too much on assumptions. You also can’t blurt out every detail of your life story. I got a little overly chatty with a couple women early. At some point, I realized that throwing too much hard truth in a fantasy setting was really a turn-off. To the credit of the women working there, they didn’t make it more awkward than it needed to be.

I quickly learned that it works better to use half-truths or vague hints about why you’re there. If someone asks how much money you have, don’t give an exact dollar figure. When one woman asked me, I just responded with, “That depends.” That wasn’t entirely wrong or wholly true, but it sent the right message.

More than anything else, I learned that it helps to be a mystery to people to some extent. That’s not just a tactic to pretend you’re a high roller with a stripper. It’s a way of getting someone interested in you and actually wanting to learn more about you. Whether they’re just looking for a tip or seeking true love, leave them with something to find. They may end up finding more than they expect and you’ll be better for it.


Lesson #4: Know How To Negotiate Your Intentions And Desires

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There are a lot of official and unofficial rules in a strip club. Officially, these beautiful women are there to entertain you, entice you, and extract tips. That’s it. That’s the end of the arrangement. If you’re looking for them to be your girlfriend, your therapist, or your servant for a day, you’re undermining the rules.

In strip clubs, the dynamic is much more overt. In exchange for money and attention, the strippers give you a fantasy and some intimate affection. You want something from them. They want something from you. The key is negotiating the best way to get it. Neither of you will always get what you want, but understanding the rules and being able to negotiate will go a long way.

In many respects, my first trip to a strip club gave me a crash course in what it meant to convey my attentions and negotiate with someone on getting what I wanted out of the experience. It wasn’t just about saying, “Here’s some money. Let me touch your boobs.” It was more akin to, “I want an experience. How can I convince you to help me make it?”

Outside a strip club, we negotiate our desires all the time. Sometimes it’s with a lover, a co-worker, or a relative. Sometimes it’s with a total stranger. In any case, there’s are rules and expectations. If you try to subvert those rules or make unreasonable expectations, you’re bound to run into trouble. In a strip club, that can get you thrown out. In real life, that can have even worse consequences.

Like it or not, people in the real world usually want something from you. Whether it’s money or love, the key is navigating it responsibly. Going to a strip club gave me a chance to be more direct about it and it was a great experience. Being able to see beautiful women naked was a nice bonus as well.


Lesson #5: How You Present Yourself Matters As Much As What You Say

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This is where I kind of have to give credit to my mother. Yes, I know that’s an odd thing to say about experiences involving strip clubs, but I think this warrants an exception. Before I even left for Vegas, my mom insisted I get some fancy new clothes that were nicer, albeit less comfortable than I was used to. Even though I complained at first, I’m really glad she convinced me to spruce up my wardrobe.

When I ventured into the strip club, I wore a nice button-up shirt, a new set of jeans, and dress shoes that most guys wouldn’t wear outside a wedding. I definitely didn’t look like some college student just experiencing Vegas for the first time. I looked like a refined, well-dressed, well-groomed gentleman. That sends a powerful message to men and women alike.

It showed in the way the bouncer was extra nice to me. It also showed in the way the bartenders and strippers treated me. Compared to some of the other men in that club, who were primarily wearing T-shirts and flip-flops, I stood out for all the right reasons. I sent the message that I care enough about myself to look good. I also sent the message that I care about presenting a good image of myself to others.

That sort of approach doesn’t just attract a man to strippers. It attracts a man to everyone. I know it sounds obvious, but I don’t think some people appreciate the true impact that presentation has on others. I treated going into a strip club kind of like a job interview. I wanted to look my best and present myself as someone worthy of attention.

In addition to good clothes, presenting yourself with confidence and energy helps supplement your efforts. It says even more about the kind of person you are. It gives the impression that you’re excited about life and you want to share it. The inherent social nature of people in general will draw them to you. It’s simple biology.


That, my friends, concludes my list of critical lessons that I learned from a strip club. To the women working at that club and the fine folks who managed it, I sincerely thank you. You taught me more about life than just the inherent beauty of topless women. I hope others can draw from those lessons as well. When applied properly, they can help you in ways that go beyond having a great time at a strip club.

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Filed under gender issues, Jack Fisher's Insights, sex in society, sexuality

Publishing Efforts Update: ANOTHER REJECTION

A while back, I announced that I had submitted a manuscript for what I’d hoped would be my third published novel. I’d submitted it to the same publisher that had previously published my first two novels, “Passion Relapse” and “Rescued Hearts.” I hoped to continue building a larger catalog with them in the name of building a stronger partnership.

Well, I’m sorry to say that I heard back from them and the news was not what I had hoped. For the second submission in a row, I got a rejection letter. It wasn’t a mean one. The editors I work with are incredibly considerate and given all the submissions they get, they’ve been wonderful to work with every step of the way. Unfortunately, they just couldn’t get behind my story.

It is disappointing. I had high hopes for this manuscript. I wrote it with the intention of making it a real niche title that would’ve appeal to a specific segment of the erotica/romance market. I thought that would give it more appeal than the last manuscript I submitted. I guess I was mistaken.

I’m not sure what I’ll do with this or the other one they rejected. I’m still struggling to find other publishers who are willing to hear me out. However, I am not discouraged and I still intent to keep submitting.

As I write this, I’m putting what I hope to be the finishing touches on my next manuscript. This one is a bit more general and should appeal to more romance fans. It has many similar elements to “Passion Relapse” and “Rescued Hearts.” I have high hopes for it and hope to submit it soon. I also have another draft that I’m hoping to finish in the coming weeks.

In any case, I have plenty of sexy stories to tell, including more sexy short stories. This is a setback, but it’s not a defeat.

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Filed under Books, Pubilishing, erotica, Las Vegas, erotic fiction, romance, Crimson Frost Books, Jack Fisher's Insights

The Time I Tried On A Banana Hammock (And Loved It)

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Brace yourself because I’m about to get personal. That’s right. I’m taking a break from talking about disturbing trends in sexual attitudes, major upheavals from technological advances, and sex robots to share a little something about myself that should offer some revealing insight into my sexy way of thinking.

Ideally, I’d like this personal anecdote to convey a larger meaning, of sorts. I’d like it to help reinforce some of the points I often make about double standards, sexual norms, and our overall sexual mentality. If it just ends up as me sharing another quirky story from my life, I’ll be okay with that too. Be forewarned, though. This is one of those stories that might be both funny and unflattering.

It’s not a very elaborate story, nor would I consider it a major turning point in my life. It’s not even the most personal story I’ve shared on this blog, especially compared to ones that involve awkward boners. In fact, the entirety of the story can be summed up in one simple sentence.

I tried on a banana hammock and loved it.

In case you don’t know what a banana hammock is, it’s basically the male version of a thong. I’m not talking about a speedo swimsuit that you might see at a beach in Rio. I’m talking about the kind of underwear that is basically a fancy napkin held in place by dental floss. If you need a more visual reference, this is what one looks like.

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Granted, most men don’t look that fit, but that’s not the point of the story or why I’m sharing it. I know banana hammocks are basically a novelty, one usually reserved for male strippers, underwear models, and body builders. They don’t have the same reverence that female thongs have and there’s a reason for that. However, it’s the extent of that reason that makes me want to share this story.

For context, here’s how it all played out. It takes place during my last few years in college, a time when I was finally recovering from the social anxieties I’d developed in high school and began emerging from my shell. During those years, I was lucky enough to have a couple of really great roommates with whom I didn’t mind sharing personal stuff.

One of those roommates, as it just so happens, loved banana hammocks. To him, they were just something he wore to fool around, but he still loved them. Me being the kind of guy who had worn boxers since middle school, I didn’t see the appeal. Then, one day, for reasons I can only attribute to boredom and curiosity, my roommate dared me to try one on.

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I’m not usually one to take people up on foolish dares that don’t involve pizza toppings, but I found myself seriously considering it. My roommate even sweetened the deal by letting me wear one that he hadn’t opened yet. It was still sealed in a plastic package, having never touched another man’s package, so to speak. It was one of those opportunities for which I couldn’t make many excuses.

Me being just as bored and/or curious, I decided to take my roommate up on his dare. I wouldn’t just keep my shirt on either. I would go into the bathroom, take everything off, and come out wearing only that banana hammock. Short of walking around naked, it was the most exposed I could’ve been. This being before I started sleeping naked regularly, it would be a unique experience.

With all that in mind, I went into the bathroom, got undressed, and put the banana hammock on. I admit, it was somewhat uncomfortable at first, but not in the way you might think. I just wasn’t used to my underwear cradling my man parts the way this thing did. After a moment, though, something amazing happened.

I found myself really liking how it looked on me. I found myself posing a bit in front of the mirror. Keep in mind, though, that this is a time in my life before I started exercising regularly. I wasn’t necessarily unhealthy since I walked everywhere in college, but I wasn’t as fit as I am now. Even so, wearing that banana hammock made me feel downright sexy.

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I can honestly say I had never felt that sexy before in my life and that includes the moments I’d spent with women. I felt like I could walk up to a woman with confidence and proudly declare that I am a sexy man who enjoys the company of sexy women. Sure, that might have gotten me some odd looks, but I wouldn’t have cared. I felt that good.

Needless to say, I walked out of that bathroom feeling a lot less self-conscious than I’d anticipated. Even my roommate seemed a little surprised. His reaction, however, was kind of predictable. He wasn’t shocked or anything. He just laughed, clapped, and said it looked good on me. I remember laughing too and cracking some dirty jokes. I still don’t think it conveyed the impact of the moment.

At the time, it felt like one of those things immature college guys do when they’re in between classes. Over time, though, that experience has stuck with me and for the right reasons. That was one of the first times I really knew what it was like to feel confident as a man. It wouldn’t be the last, though.

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As I got older, I had more of those moments that helped strengthen me into the man I am now. However, that one fateful day when I tried on a banana hammock for the first time and loved it stands out more than most. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to keep it. My roommate still took it back. I think he even wore it the next day, although I’m not sure.

Whatever the case, the impact was indelible and I’ve found myself contemplating it more lately. As I said before, a beautiful woman wearing a thong isn’t that much of a spectacle anymore. If anything, it’s celebrated. It’s a symbol of sexiness. It creates spectacles at the beach and inspires sexy songs.

For men, though, the reaction is different. I won’t go so far as to say it’s a double standard. Granted, there are some men that can’t look that sexy in a banana hammock, just as there are some women who can’t pull it off either. Even for the men who do, though, it’s not seen with the same sexual aura.

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A man walking around in a banana hammock is sure to generate plenty of looks, but they don’t evoke the same intrigue and interest as a female thong. Some women may find it attractive, as the success of the “Magic Mike” movies has shown. Others may find it funny. However, there’s still a notable gap between the sex appeal of a banana hammock and that of a thong.

Perhaps the success of movies like “Magic Mike” can narrow that gap. Personally, I hope it does. I think I look better in a banana hammock now than I did back in college. If I find myself in a relationship with someone, I’d like to think my lover would find it just as sexy as I would with them if they wore a thong.

In a sense, albeit a limited one, the disparity between banana hammocks and thongs reflect the different attitudes we have towards sex appeal. It’s far from the widest disparity between genders and, unlike others, isn’t that detrimental. That said, I do hope it narrows so men can enjoy that extra sexy feeling along with women. That, I believe, is a feeling that should be gender neutral.

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The Funniest April Fools Day Prank I Ever Witnessed

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I admit that I am not a fan of April Fools Day. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy a good laugh. My weekly Sexy Sunday Thoughts should be proof enough of that. I just don’t really care for a holiday that makes me a lot more cautious whenever I open a fresh beer.

I’m also not big on pranks. I leave that sort of thing to the YouTube stars of the world. For me, pranks are just too elaborate a way to get a laugh. I think the world is funny enough without jumping through too many hoops. Just reading the headlines from Florida is sufficient sometimes.

As a result, I never developed a fondness for April Fools Day. I had friends who took it seriously, pulling pranks that had varying degrees of humor. Most failed, in my opinion. They often involved things like replacing water with vodka or slipping a used condom into their laundry. Some laughed. Some rolled their eyes. I usually shrugged it off.

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However, in the spirit of April Fools Day, I’d like to share a story about the greatest prank I ever saw anyone pull off. To date, it’s the only prank that ever had me on the floor, laughing hysterically. It’s also one of the few pranks where both the prankster and the victim can laugh equally. I doubt such a prank will ever be topped, at least for me.

Before I tell the story, though, I should probably make a quick disclaimer. The context and time of this prank is what helped it work. Trying to replicate it today might still get plenty of laughs, but I don’t think it would be as effective so I strongly discourage anyone from trying. That said, here’s how it played out.


It happened at one of the first jobs I had out of college. It was at a software company, which I’ve mentioned before. This company was full of young, fresh-out-of-college people like me who primarily provided technical and administrative support. It was a great environment, one where it wasn’t uncommon to see someone bring toys into the office.

The victim of the prank, in this case, was a co-worker who sat next to me in a small office. We both worked technical support, answering emails and phone calls. He had a great sense of humor and always seemed full of energy. In short, he was the perfect target for another co-worker who worked the sales department.

That co-worker, who most would agree was one of the smartest minds at the company, had a reputation for being inventive. The man once programmed his email to make a loud fart noise every time it got a message from a particularly troublesome client. We all thought that was funny, but he really outdid himself this time.

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On the morning of April 1st of that year, he placed an ad on Craiglist pretending to be an animation studio in search of a voice actor. Specifically, the ad said that it needed a really good pirate voice for a cartoon character in a short animated clip. It then requested that aspiring voice actors call a number and leave a voicemail of them doing their best pirate impression. Guess who’s number he listed?

I’ll give everyone a moment to appreciate the creativity employed in this prank. It wasn’t overly elaborate. It wasn’t overly destructive either. Nobody had to clean up a huge mess. Nobody had to pay someone’s laundry bill. The most it did was clog my co-worker’s voicemail with dozens of messages from aspiring voice actors.

Over the course of the next eight hours, my co-worker received a flood of calls, most of which went to voicemail. Those calls contained a wide array of aspiring voice actors talking like pirates in ways that ranged from impressive to deranged. I don’t remember just how many calls he got. I just remember the steady stream of laughter that followed over the course of the day.

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By late afternoon, word had spread about the prank. Everyone from the interns to the supervisors crowded into this tiny, confined office that was only supposed to hold four people at the most. Despite those constraints, they all crowded around the desk and listened to voicemail after voicemail of pirate voice auditions. I was in the front row. It was too hilarious for words.

I distinctly remember one message where a guy really got into it, telling this elaborate two-minute tale of his life as a pirate in a voice that Johnny Depp himself would’ve appreciated. Within 30 seconds, I was on the floor clutching my sides, laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

It was, by far, the most memorable April Fools Day I had ever experienced. I think the entire office gave my co-worker and his friend a round of applause for this prank. They both laughed too. In fact, even when they called some of the people to let them know it was a prank, they laughed as well. It was just that hilarious.

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Regardless of how you feel about April Fools Day or pranks, it’s hard to deny that what my co-worker’s friend did was objectively funny. Moreover, it was funny in a way that everyone could appreciate. That, in many respects, is the true measure of a great prank. I’m not saying it’ll ever be topped. I’m just saying that it set the bar pretty damn high.

So that, my friends, is the story of the greatest April Fools Day prank I ever witnessed. I wanted to share it a few days before April Fools Day this year, if only to reassure some that there’s still a place for that kind of humor in the era of political correctness, fake news, alternative facts, and viral videos featuring dancing gorillas.

We all need to laugh every now and then. April Fools Day gives us an excuse to make the extra effort. Some, like my old co-workers, took full advantage of it and the lives of those effected are better because of it. With that in mind, I hope everyone finds a way to laugh as hard as I did that fateful day on April Fools Day this year.

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Superman, Rick Sanchez, And The Nihilism Filter

Here’s a question that should strain the brains of anyone who reads too many comics and watches too much TV.

What do Rick Sanchez and Superman have in common?

Take a moment to finish rolling your eyes. Bear with me, I am going somewhere with this. There is a point to posing such a question, relatively speaking. Maybe a better question would be what possible commonalities could someone like Superman share with Rick Sanchez from “Rick and Morty?”

One is the undisputed icon of truth, justice, and the American way. The other is an eccentric, unstable super-genius who also happens to be high-functioning alcoholic. These are two fictional characters who, on paper, would clash at every turn. However, there is one trait that binds them and it’s one that’s worth scrutinizing.

They both perfectly embody nihilistic morality.

Again, I am going somewhere like this. Just hear me out  because this is something I think that fans of both Superman and “Rick and Morty” can appreciate. In an era where everyone has an excuse, an agenda, or a combination of the two, it’s a perspective that I think everyone can appreciate.

To understand that perspective, it’s necessary to understand what I mean by “nihilistic morality.” I’ve mentioned nihilism before when I’ve discussed “Rick and Morty” in previous posts, specifically on what makes Rick Sanchez an appealing character to an emerging generation. For the purposes of this discussion, you need not be a super-genius or a Kryptonian to understand.

By definition, nihilism sounds bleak and depressing. At its core, it states that life has no inherent meaning or purpose. We’re just globs of matter floating around the universe for a finite period of time. That’s it. There’s no plan, purpose, or greater meaning. Any effort we make at seeking meaning requires that we shamelessly lie to ourselves. Rick Sanchez, himself, put it pretty succinctly.

“When you know nothing matters, the universe is yours. And I’ve never met a universe that was into it. The universe is basically an animal, it grazes on the ordinary. It creates infinite idiots, just to eat them.”

Depressing or not, I don’t intend to belabor the grim prospects of nihilism. Instead, I want to focus on the implications because, even if the principles are depressing, the implications are pretty revealing. In a sense, those implications can say a lot about what we consider moral and why we do what we do.

This is where Superman enters the equation. When it comes to beacons of morality, Superman is basically the alpha and omega of all things good and just. He is the standard by which all heroes are measured. He is the arbiter of the ethics, philosophy, and principles of a good and just person. If Superman does it, then it must be good. If there’s a right way to do something, then Superman does it without hesitation.

Where he and Rick Sanchez intersect has less to do with who they are and more with why they do what they do. Whether it’s stopping Zod from destroying a city or selling weapons to assassins to spend an afternoon at an alien arcade, these two characters have surprisingly similar motivations and those motivations have a basis in nihilism.

Simply put, Superman and Rick Sanchez don’t do what they do because it serves an agenda, makes them look good to others, helps them function better in society, or rewards them after death. They do it because they want to. That’s it. That’s the end of the philosophical discussion.

In the context of pure nihilism, these two exceedingly different characters are on the same page. There’s no larger plan or purpose to their choices. Rick Sanchez has never given a cosmic fart about what others think about him, including his own family. Superman has also made it abundantly clear throughout his history that he doesn’t do what he does for adulation. He does it because it’s the right thing to do.

These simplistic, almost shallow reasons are inherently nihilistic in that they acknowledge the pointlessness of attempting to seek greater meaning in a chaotic universe. It’s just as pointless to do something for personal reasons, be they vengeance for dead parents or upstaging the devil. Any reason, large or small, is just as empty within a nihilistic worldview.

However, if you can look past the depressing concepts, there are major implications for the ethical context of these actions. The fact that both Superman and Rick Sanchez don’t need or seek that greater meaning to justify their actions makes what they do more inherently honest. In terms of judging ethical motivations, that counts for a lot.

Whether they’re iconic heroes or alcoholic mad scientists, honesty matters and so does motivation. Heroes like Captain America, Iron Man, Batman, Spider-Man, and the X-men have factors like duty, vision, responsibility, and tragedy to guide their actions. You could say the same about the real people behind any movement, be they civil rights, gender issues, or a political party.

Spider-Man does what he does out of responsibility and the guilt he feels for being irresponsible in the past. Most peoples’ political affiliation is inherited from their parents or their economic circumstances. Some join civil rights movements out of personal conviction or just to virtue signal.

Both Rick Sanchez and Superman would see all those factors as needless complications to what should be a very simple choice. To them, you simply do something because you want to. If there are consequences to that, then you deal with them. That’s all there is to it. That’s all there needs to be.

Superman didn’t need someone to kill his parents or hate his kind to motivate him. Rick Sanchez didn’t need a loving family or an empire of alien insects to motivate him either. They just need the ability to make a choice and nothing more. Anything beyond that is either bonus or needless complications.

In the context of nihilism, that makes the ethics behind both Rick and Superman more genuine. It flies in the face of those who seek justice, morality, or progress as part of some larger endeavor. That’s an important factor because, absent that context, the motivations can be prone to corruptive forces.

This can unfold subtly in things like organized religion. Sure, religion can inspire great charity, but is that because adherents genuinely want to be charitable? Are they just trying to win favor in the eyes of a deity who may or may not punish them eternally after they die?

It also manifests in political movements. Pretty much any political party will consider their platform to be just. However, is that because it actually is just or because that’s just what the party says? Anyone who has lived in a communist dictatorship probably knows the answer to that more than most.

These days, we’re seeing more and more people rally behind various social movements, be they LGBT rights or anti-harassment efforts. Even if the intent of these movements are just, those behind it can have other motives, such as virtue signaling or maintaining an agenda. Remember, Harvey Weinstein donated to the women’s march in early 2017 before his scandal broke.

In either case, it’s not always possible to know the sincerity of someone’s moral underpinnings. In a sense, nihilism provides a filter, of sorts, to sift through the various agendas that someone may or may not have. If that agenda requires that the universe have a special purpose or destiny for them, then that’s usually a sign that they’re trying to be the heroes of their own story, which rarely turns out well.

Superman could care less if the entire world hates his guts for doing what he does. He’ll still do it because it’s the right thing to do. Rick Sanchez could care less if everybody loves him and worships him like a god. He still does what he does simply because he chooses too. They both understand the universe doesn’t care so why should they?

Think about that next time a fictional hero or a real person explains their motivations. Apply the filter of nihilism and you’ll reveal just how genuine or insincere they truly are. Whether you’re saving Lois Lane or searching for that sweet Szechuan Sauce, those motivations matter, especially in a nihilistic universe where little else does.

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