tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58308520915989524092012-01-31T19:15:51.542-08:00Thoughts and ramblings on a post-divorce existenceThe Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.comBlogger1721100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-15037053442633999242012-01-11T08:01:00.000-08:002012-01-11T08:01:39.993-08:00

Dear Diary: I have been trying to figure out a way to write about this particular topic, but it hasn't been until recently that I have been in a situation where it would relevant to me. And just so you know, right now I am just typing shit because I am suffering from a major brain fart and completely lost my train of thought, so give me a minute. Just writing something random helps me get back

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-10511819371578760042012-01-05T08:29:00.000-08:002012-01-05T08:30:24.310-08:00

Dear Diary: Usually, right around this time I would write two entries that would A) look back on the year, and B) look back on the year to come. This year though, I am not going to do that. I don't know if the lack of motivation has more to do with the fact that I do not want to some how, at the end of the year, feel like a failure, or whether or not something else has changed where I feel

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-16607988164177364112011-12-28T07:13:00.000-08:002011-12-28T07:13:01.758-08:00

Dear Diary: This Guest Post (My first one!!!) comes to you from David Stevenson. Off and on, should others wish to submit a GP, please drop me a note directly. I trust you are all smart enough to know how to navigate a web page and find my contact info on here. K thanks bye. Dating after divorce, is it possible? For many people who have gone through a divorce it can be an extremely stressful

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-74662201924562386892011-12-24T08:22:00.000-08:002011-12-24T08:22:34.012-08:00

Dear Diary: As a child, we look up to our parents (well, for the most part, unless our parents are abusive assholes). We depend upon them to teach us, nurture us, take care of us, and to prepare us to be independent individuals. Then we grow up. We get older. And so do our parents. For many people, there comes a time when the child becomes the caretaker. The child becomes the one that helps

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-80788596759517224802011-12-16T20:02:00.000-08:002011-12-16T20:02:28.663-08:00

Dear Diary: The Washington Post recently wrote a little piece on a highly scientific and reputable survey that listed the nation's capital as one of America's vainest cities. You may find that article here. Ok, so it isn't that scientific. A poll by LivingSocial probably isn't the best thing to base one's thesis on, know what I mean. Not to mention, of the entire sample size of 4,000

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-10705243532816318632011-12-11T17:54:00.000-08:002011-12-11T17:56:47.668-08:00

Dear Diary: Forgive me Diary, for I have sinned. It has been 20 days since my last entry. In those twenty days I have dated, I have worked, I have bought Christmas gifts, I have, well done a lot of shit. And that is why I haven't written. I have just been busy. Too busy really. Like so busy I do not know when or where I will have my next meal at, or when or where I will take a shit. Sleep?

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-47580613931573034292011-11-22T08:43:00.000-08:002011-11-22T08:43:48.074-08:00

Dear Diary: I guess the thing to do this year on the social network chosen by many is, for each day, name someone one is thankful for. At least that is what I have noticed. Some are heartfelt, some are sarcastic, and some make me think the person writing it needs therapy. So I will do my best not to list a litany of things that make you think I need psychoanalysis. But I make no promises. I

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-82187219933226915702011-11-16T07:11:00.000-08:002011-11-16T07:11:07.117-08:00

Dear Diary: Now, I have pontificated before on the utter glory that is bacon, and pork fat in general. It makes the world go round, from a nice thick cut of apple wood smoked bacon, to pancetta, to well, anything that is bacon. If it has bacon in it, it is bound to be glorious But, Baconlube? I will simply have to draw the line at this one. No offense to all you kinky bacon lovers out there

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-89987858145368728412011-11-07T09:02:00.000-08:002011-11-07T09:02:00.799-08:00

Dear Diary: I will first have to say that this, the first entry of the Month of November in the Year of Our Lord 2011, was triggered, no, IT WAS INSPIRED, but the last episode of Dexter. Ha. You thought I was going to get all holier-than-thou on you. Suckatash. I am not going to give a brief recap of last night's episode so as not to give out any spoilers, but I will have to say that it

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-49793623179744448972011-10-22T18:14:00.000-07:002011-10-22T18:14:12.112-07:00

Dear Diary: *This is in no way directed towards anyone in particular, but just a general observation based upon past experiences* When dating a divorced person, there is a certain rule, or rather thing, that one who has not been divorced should not do, particularly if you have not been dating for a long period of time. For starters, it is perfectly ok, and perfectly acceptable for one to ask

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-2910369542626418992011-10-16T11:11:00.000-07:002011-10-16T11:11:51.988-07:00

Dear Diary: Well, that speechless moment lasted long, didn't it? Now, here are a couple of thoughts. I do not consider myself a blogger. I just use this tool to get things off my chest because A) I am better at writing than speaking sometimes, and B) I can't afford to pay someone to listen to me bitch. But, since I have a blog, and well, blog, then I guess I am a blogger. Kinda sorta maybe.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-38069872288155174012011-10-16T08:14:00.000-07:002011-10-16T08:14:21.607-07:00

Dear Diary, I have nothing to say at the moment. If you want to know something in particular, ask, otherwise, I will be back when I have something to say. Sincerely, Me

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-70647437535692966092011-10-02T17:52:00.000-07:002011-10-02T17:55:35.242-07:00

Dear Diary, There is a little known thing that us bloggers use, and it something that we use for our own protection/amusement. What I am talking about is a code that allows us to keep track of our blog statistics, for instance, to see how many particular page hits we receive during a day, week, or month. If something is really profound (and let's be honest, not much is these days in my neck of

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-4936489411809484872011-09-28T17:52:00.000-07:002011-09-28T17:52:57.212-07:00

Dear Diary: One girl is talkative, yet at the same time doesn't say much. She is kind, caring, and somewhat overbearing. She is sensual, and is not afraid to tell you. She worries a lot, about things she cannot control. She is clingy. She is not afraid to communicate. We have gone out a few times. One girl is talkative, and substantive, yet stand-offish. She is younger, opinionated,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-41058022228749892872011-09-18T11:23:00.000-07:002011-09-18T11:23:36.571-07:00

Dear Diary: Forgive me Diary for I have sinned. It has been over two weeks since my last entry. In those two weeks, I have managed to work my tail off, deal with some family shit, and have gone out with a couple of different women. But before I start writing about any one person on here, let me just give you my thoughts, albeit somewhat borrowed, on the whole online dating realm. Ladies, you

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-89645090480200544982011-09-03T16:24:00.000-07:002011-09-06T17:46:18.839-07:00

Dear Diary: Apparently, according to a "new" "study", the DMV is home to the nation's worst drivers. Why thank you Captain Obvious. Care to tell me something I don't already know? I have been saying for, well, about a decade now that the DMV has the worst fucking drivers on the planet. And now we apparently require a study to tell us something that I have been saying for 10 years. Why not

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-88418180991965877282011-08-26T20:55:00.000-07:002011-08-26T20:55:44.955-07:00

Dear Diary: So, um, yeah, I think I joined a dating site.  I mean, I remember paying for a subscription.  So yeah, I guess I did.  Back into the old swing of things I guess. "But you don't sound so enthused about it!"  That's probably what you are thinking. Well, I am writing write now on pain killers and drinking vodka (don't lecture me), so I am not that emotional at the moment. What I can

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-17524786046774751052011-08-25T20:20:00.000-07:002011-08-25T20:21:38.946-07:00

Dear Diary: This afternoon I had the pleasure of getting my other two wisdom teeth removed, with just local anesthesia I might add (cause I'm a muthafuckin' badass ), and then had the even greater pleasure of sitting in traffic for about 90 minutes while I drove home. So, you are going to have to forgive me if I am not in a mood to expound upon life's great questions and philosophize and the

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-73865434384719619042011-08-24T08:40:00.000-07:002011-08-24T08:44:55.588-07:00

Dear Diary: I survived Snowmadeggon. And now I can say I survived an earthquake. When the earthquake happened, I was standing at a urinal. Do you have any idea how unnerving it is to have the ground shake beneath your feet the second you grab your dick? No? It's weird. I can tell you that. Also slightly amusing. The other thing that is weird and also slightly amusing is some of the

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-5375250967243851192011-08-21T17:08:00.000-07:002011-08-21T17:08:42.959-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: what's the most entertaining thing you've done in the past month? A: Nothing. Nothing at all. My life is pretty mundane and routine. I wake up. I go to the gym. I come home and make breakfast. I go to work. I go to the gym. I come home and have a protein shake*. I go to sleep. I wake up..... You get my point. Now, there are a few things on the horizon that I can tell you

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-81164787588426020032011-08-19T09:42:00.000-07:002011-08-19T09:42:42.400-07:00

Dear Diary: Q:What's one of your favorite memories? (could be anything) I'm interested in this guy who is going through everything you went through- near identical story. Is it worth sticking around to see if it could work between us after the papers are officially signed? Or am I just wasting time? I don't think he's ready to date, but I know he will be amazing when he *is* ready.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-50672473162244397932011-08-17T19:58:00.000-07:002011-08-17T19:58:59.304-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: How big's your...nevermind. ;) (Being tacky, as ususal.) A: And now for the answer that you have all been waiting for!!! (well, if you are a woman, or hell, a guy, nothing wrong with that) My dick. How big is it? Well, let's see. It's really impossible to measure unless you are using an electron microscope. Seriously. I'm hung like a gerbil. You can stop drooling now

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-41190852772441122962011-08-16T17:17:00.000-07:002011-08-16T17:17:29.116-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: I think marriage is great for those who believe in it, but do you think it is more than a ring and a dress? I think I can have a meaningful relationship and totally plan to spend the rest of my life with my guy, but without the ceremony. Thoughts? A: Yes, it is more than a ring and a dress, or in my case, it is more than a ring and a suit or tuxedo. First, I would suggest that

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-82935056496807259502011-08-10T10:12:00.000-07:002011-08-10T10:12:05.143-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: Do you have ANY desire to marry again? A: Yes. Ok. Now I know that I can't just leave you hanging with a one word answer, but there is really no simpler way to put it. I do in fact have a desire to marry again. The larger question is, "Who?" I want to marry someone who gets me. I want to marry someone who knows that even though I am quiet by nature, it doesn't mean I am

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-22512492338306877252011-08-05T09:37:00.000-07:002011-08-05T09:37:53.396-07:00

Dear Diary: Q:Do you want to stay in DC? What are your favorite/least favorite parts about living here? A: What? Are you fucking kidding me? Hell no I do not want to stay in this rat infested city. And I am not talking about rodents. I mean, would you want to live in a city without it's own signature sandwich? Me either. But more seriously, I do not want to stay in a city that does not

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-25583631067936505502011-07-23T12:55:00.000-07:002011-07-23T12:55:10.588-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: What is your biggest pet peeve? What is your most embarrassing moment? What is the most random fact about you? A: A three part question!!! Anyway, my biggest pet peeve is when someone disregards another person's time. For instance, I do not like waiting around forever when someone says, "I'll meet you at (insert random time here)." I do not mind when plans have to be

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-39253097973155335252011-07-17T10:39:00.000-07:002011-07-17T10:39:41.567-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: Where would you recommend someone to go on vacation that you have been and why? If you could go anywhere you haven't already been and cost wasn't a factor, where would you go? A: I guess it really depends on whether or not you are vacationing alone, or with someone. Also, it depends on what type of person you are and what you enjoy. If you are a foodie, then I would recommend

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-77313187882588071032011-07-12T04:53:00.000-07:002011-07-12T04:53:41.438-07:00

Dear Diary: Q: What is the scariest thing that's ever happened to you? What's a weird nickname somebody's given you and why? A: Since this is a two part question, let me go ahead and answer the second one first, since the answer to the second question is shorter than the answer to the first. Anyway, no one really has given me a weird nickname. There have been variations of my first name, as

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-17655832648052839612011-07-08T10:54:00.000-07:002011-07-08T10:54:24.318-07:00

Dear Diary: For starters, this will be the first of a series where I answer the questions you have asked me. If you have more questions, feel free to email me directly. My contact info is located here. And here we go! Q: I want to know how you cope with it, because my life is equally boring and I can barely deal with it any more. A: Coping is a relative term. I prefer to call it living.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-7563627510831392892011-07-05T14:33:00.001-07:002011-07-05T14:33:26.917-07:00

Dear Diary, My life is so boring, I have no idea what to write about these days. So, ask me something. I will answer anything (well, for the most part). What do you want to know?

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-83121165076123978432011-06-26T12:52:00.000-07:002011-06-26T12:55:47.606-07:00

Dear Diary: Here is a little more thorough explanation of my general mood at the moment. I am not mad at my ex for getting married again. Far from it. I don't wish her happiness because frankly, I just do not care. I am completely indifferent towards her, her life, who she knows, who she sleeps with, etc, etc, etc. I guess what bothers me are the reminders that I am not where I want to be,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-980861983543584672011-06-25T09:05:00.001-07:002011-06-25T09:05:19.134-07:00

Dear Diary: She got married. Eh.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-55508894142879791022011-06-23T18:12:00.000-07:002011-06-23T18:12:10.978-07:00

Dear Diary: There are some bands that one just gets. Their music somehow just resonates. Whether it is the lyrics, or the music itself, it just clicks. 20 years ago, I really got into U2. I have pretty much all of their stuff. In fact, I think I do have all of their stuff, from Boy to No Line On The Horizon. I think Achtung Baby is amazing, Rattle and Hum a work of genius, and The Joshua

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-6780906839717535762011-06-21T16:43:00.000-07:002011-06-21T16:43:03.518-07:00

Dear Diary: I saw my ex last week. I saw one of the women who was a bridesmaid in my wedding today. She lives 1000 fucking miles away, but was in town for a work related event that I just happened to be at. Really? No, I mean, fucking really? Give me a fucking break.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-41904683724306139352011-06-15T18:25:00.000-07:002011-06-15T18:25:31.843-07:00

Dear Diary: I have been going on, living my life, working crazy hours, and trying to enjoy my downtime as much as possible. One part of my job entails going to receptions. A lot of receptions. These are generally decent events, with free flowing alcohol and decent food, but no one really eats at these things. Eating will take up room in one's stomach that is reserved for the open bar. And

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-59631115377135668342011-06-09T08:55:00.000-07:002011-06-09T08:55:27.666-07:00

Dear Diary: My dad used to warn me to never get into business with friends and family. It seems a little harsh, but in reality, it always seems to play out that if you get into business with friends and family, you will somehow get the shaft. The thing is, I do not mind being generous with money. I don't mind picking up a check. I don't even mind picking up a hotel room. I don't mind buying

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-63727445277007892392011-06-06T12:11:00.000-07:002011-06-06T18:05:30.595-07:00

Dear Diary, Men have body issues too. There I said it. Ok, so I am overweight. Not morbidly obese overweight. Not taking an elevator up one flight of stairs because my fat ass can't be bothered with the physical exertion overweight. But, I have love handles, and then some. But I also have a significant amount of muscle. I can feel it under the excess body mass. So, I have some padding,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-16720873686738340732011-05-26T11:15:00.000-07:002011-05-26T11:15:19.605-07:00

Dear Diary: We all do it. All of us who use this form of expression do it. We wonder. We wonder who the hell is bored enough to read our stories. We wonder if we are entertaining. We wonder if they get us. We wonder if they want us. We wonder if behind a screen in some far off land, there is someone who is nodding their head as they read our words. We all do it. Don't deny it. If you

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-3178955851301186452011-05-15T08:01:00.000-07:002011-05-15T08:01:16.870-07:00

Dear Diary: So I got a phone call that a member of the family had passed away Friday night after finally succumbing to leukemia. You are probably thinking I am heartbroken over this. Sorry, I am not. Let me give you a little background on mi familia. My dad is one of four kids. When I say that everyone in my family has been divorced, I am referring to his side of the family. This is the

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-37117493032229705562011-05-06T08:35:00.000-07:002011-05-06T08:35:58.800-07:00

Dear Diary: When was the first moment in the aftermath when you thought about the past without a huge jolt of emotion? The first time the ex-marriage was a part of your history instead of a trauma? I have been waiting for a while to figure out how best to answer this, because well it is not easy to answer. Not at all really. In fact, it is pretty fucking complicated if you ask me. I can

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-7433409916630841942011-05-01T08:25:00.000-07:002011-05-01T08:25:45.452-07:00

Dear Diary: I guess my fascination with Key West started in the early 90s after watching, well, Key West, which you probably do not recall was a short lived television series. But anyway, ever since seeing the show I always wanted to visit the place. I mean, it was like the tropics, except you could drive to it. And I liked the fact that it was old. And quaint. It is kind of like portions

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-36325198242389906472011-04-28T20:04:00.000-07:002011-04-28T20:04:43.207-07:00

Dear Diary: If you want to know something, or want me to write about something, ask me a question. If you prefer, feel free to E-mail me the question.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-72400029645594032962011-04-20T08:18:00.000-07:002011-04-20T08:18:26.630-07:00

Dear Diary: I was born on the East Coast. Even though I moved around a lot growing up, I have always maintained an East Coast mentality. And now living on the East Coast, I savor the fast pace of life in general. I rather enjoy the fact that time seems to move quickly, even though it is limited. There are two types of people who live on the East Coast in my opinion. Those who relax from the

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-85501387174605093282011-04-11T13:11:00.000-07:002011-04-11T13:11:27.069-07:00

Dear Diary: For the last few months I have accepted the fact that I may very well be alone the rest of my life, and by alone I mean without being in a romantic relationship. I have accepted that. Now accepting something and being happy with that reality are two very, very different things. Case in point: I can accept the fact that the Red Sox started off the season 0-6 and very well may not

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-11647948059778437602011-03-27T15:34:00.001-07:002011-03-27T15:34:20.665-07:00

Dear Diary: I am taking a break from you until I actually have something to say. Until next time....

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-81669566801665023042011-03-16T19:37:00.000-07:002011-03-18T13:17:49.162-07:00

Dear Diary: Over the last couple of days, a video has gone viral. I am sure you have seen it, or heard of it, but if you have not, here it is: As someone who moved around a lot growing up, I did have to deal with being bullied on occasion. It wasn't fun. It wasn't fun at all. Whether it was a hurtful comment, or the time I was crouching down opening my locker and some guys came up

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-1911354111389022722011-03-05T08:53:00.000-08:002011-03-05T08:53:41.051-08:00

Dear Diary: I knew the day would happen. I knew when it was, just not where it was. I had been thinking about it, knowing it was off there in the distance, hovering like a fog on the horizon. And then it came. I awoke and the day felt different. And then they came. The memories forced from places walled off long ago, as though my mind was predetermined to just well, completely fuck with me

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-23332476643831708252011-03-03T08:21:00.000-08:002011-03-03T08:21:21.941-08:00

Dear Diary: There is nothing worse than buying a cup of coffee, and said cup of coffee has a fucked up lid on it, one that isn't quite tight enough to stop coffee from leaking under the lid and landing on your shirt. It's not that the lid comes off. No, it stays on. It stays on and slowly allows drops of coffee to land on your shirt without noticing until you go to put on your jacket for a

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-46276769905498276492011-02-18T22:43:00.000-08:002011-02-18T22:43:09.926-08:00

Dear Diary: I joined you almost three years ago. I became part of a community, at first reluctantly. As I became more comfortable, I became more willing to reach out, and let others reach in. Since then, I have noticed two types. Those who write to write, and those who write to read. Those who write to write do not need an audience, although they know they have one. They do not write to

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-91548599631288008722011-02-15T18:51:00.000-08:002011-02-15T18:51:09.999-08:00

Dear Diary: Fuck you. No seriously, fuck you. Work, life in general, fuck you and the bullshit that you throw me everyday. I am leaving. That's right. My ass is planning a much needed vacation. There are a lot of things that are going on right now, and a lot of balls that are being juggled at the moment, that if I give too much detail, well, I will eliminate my ability to write about them

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-36018498988585348662011-02-12T21:11:00.000-08:002011-02-12T21:11:33.962-08:00

Dear Diary: At the ripe old age of 32, I have finally ventured into the world of smartphones. Yeah yeah, I know I am behind the curve. But, I am also the guy that didn't actually buy his first car until he was 30. Or have sex until his early-mid 20s. I'm a late bloomer, what can I say? So, I figured I would dive in head first and upgrade to the most bad ass phone I could get, that I liked.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-34861079686312906562011-02-10T20:51:00.000-08:002011-02-10T20:51:00.393-08:00

Dear Diary: "Twitter: Where homely women live out their sex kitten fantasies" -Frank G, Esq., 2011" The above quote was not coined by me. It was however coined by a very wise individual. Said wise individual also has a Twitter account, because he enjoys his social media, as well as generally pointing out the absolute idiotic behavior of those who live in this area. So it's not like he was

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-7248035457999894292011-02-07T20:28:00.000-08:002011-02-07T20:28:19.261-08:00

Dear Diary: I consider myself fortunate for I have met, and have been invited into the mind, and dare I say heart, of a true artist. I was able to be in the presence of greatness. Of pure beauty. Of pure passion. Of conviction. Of desire. Of intellect. Of dreams. She first met me in what now seems like another life, for I was truly a different person. She has seen me grow from afar,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-72944665872029192822011-02-07T20:00:00.000-08:002011-02-07T20:00:16.842-08:00

Dear Diary: Remember when I used to write and had something to say? Um, yeah, not so much lately. Now don't get me wrong, there is a lot on my mind, but let's just say that what is on my mind is best kept to myself until I can wrap it up into neat little packages, put a fucking big red bow around it, and deliver it to you. Because if I just emptied my brain at the moment, the shit would

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-90652558853022848462011-01-26T20:51:00.000-08:002011-01-26T20:51:17.149-08:00

Dear Diary: I am a very private person Yeah, I know you are shocked, aren't you? It's is very hard to see if anything is bothering me, if you were to look at me. Maybe I am just designed that way. Some people are. I remember oh, about a decade ago when I was working in the bar business, my good friend/roommate and I were interested in the same girl. My buddy also was in the beginning

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-56543364365284853122011-01-22T19:55:00.000-08:002011-01-22T19:55:01.203-08:00

Dear Diary: Pain is the result of having your world turned upside down by one health related train wreck after another for four solid months. Pain is waking up, and starting a new routine. Pain is eating the same thing over and over again. Pain is counting, religiously, the amount of calories in any given thing. Pain is limiting calories to under 1800 a day. Pain is being meticulous is

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-67013089869061049222011-01-16T16:54:00.000-08:002011-01-16T16:54:46.465-08:00

Dear Diary: Well it turns out the reason that I sound like I smoke 4 packs a day is that I have acute bronchitis. To say that I am annoyed by this would be an understatement. To say that I am frustrated by this would not be an understatement. To say that my chest feels like someone has cut it open with a meat cleaver, reached in and grabbed everything, pulled it out, jammed it back in, set it

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-90583212357959536722011-01-14T12:10:00.000-08:002011-01-14T12:10:59.346-08:00

Dear Diary: There has been much discussion as of late, or rather I have just really noticed a string of connecting stories in the blogosphere (that's how it's spelled, right?) surrounding what is apparently a mythical creature. A unicorn in fact. What is a unicorn? Well, apparently according to those who have written and/or discussed the topic, is nothing more than a man, who is single,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-66568083844340235812011-01-12T11:55:00.000-08:002011-01-12T11:55:04.322-08:00

Dear Diary: I feel robbed. Seriously, I do. This is just not fair. I hate being teased, and this is twice now in less than a month that I have been teased to the point of excitement and then let down. It's bullshit. WHERE IS MY SNOW?!?!?!?!?!?! Yeah yeah yeah. People around here go absolutely batshit crazy when there is even more than a dusting, but I for one enjoy shoveling snow. I find

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-67211286520693162382011-01-04T14:16:00.000-08:002011-01-04T14:16:23.397-08:00

Dear Diary: Like most men when they get sick, I can, and oftentimes do, turn into a big fat fucking baby. Although I would argue that you would too if your chest felt as though it were being repeatedly stabbed with a large sharp object every time you cough. Now, I could sit here and further detail the feeling of having a fever that actually makes your eyes burn, or what is it like to feel that

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-72880432100067445702010-12-31T10:45:00.000-08:002010-12-31T10:45:24.516-08:00

Dear Diary: You know what is coming, so here it is.... Dear Self, Hey you, yes you. I am taking a different route with this letter this year. I am not going to tell you everything that you accomplished. Oh no, I don't want to spoil any surprises that might come along the way. Neither do I want to create expectations in your head that when you look back on 2011 you will feel discouraged or

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-31177095357712567482010-12-29T17:50:00.000-08:002010-12-29T17:50:13.409-08:00

Dear Diary: It is once again time to reflect upon another passing year. It is once again a time to be thankful that my younger brother has less hair than I do, and to be thankful that I did not get another gray hair, not a one, even though I definitely had the stress in my life to have a head chock full of them by now. And well, since doing this same exercise last year was successful and

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-32413474476862359572010-12-23T11:25:00.000-08:002010-12-23T11:25:37.143-08:00

Dear Diary: I finally bought a Christmas tree a few days ago. It is 8 feet tall. White lights, silver ornaments. Silver star on top. It looks like how a Christmas tree should look. And it is real, so it smells like how a Christmas tree should smell. It also apparently comes crashing down when it is out of balance and shatters many of the silver glass ornaments that you have hanging on it

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-3480385652780811472010-12-13T18:12:00.000-08:002010-12-13T18:15:36.037-08:00

Dear Diary: "Maybe because you have the mouth of a sailor and most women don't want a man who uses the F word in regular conversation? Just a thought." -Anonymous I am guessing that this was in response to the question that was posed at the end of this. Now, I really do get frustrated and annoyed when people comment on you anonymously, particularly when it is generally the anonymous comments

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-47095745059667895452010-12-10T14:16:00.000-08:002010-12-10T14:16:32.129-08:00

Dear Diary: Pita chips are delicious. Pita chips with spinach dip are divine. Pita chips and hummus are God's gift to snack food. (Did I actually just say something was divine? Give me a minute while I find my balls please) The gas company apparently says they overcharged me by about $200 dollars, so I haven't had to pay the gas bill in a little while. This is good considering I am cranking

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-33313151387705282102010-12-06T11:41:00.000-08:002010-12-06T11:41:35.186-08:00

Dear Diary: I painted. I painted that crown molding and baseboard that I have been meaning to paint for oh, about a year I guess. I moved furniture. I moved my couch, which is too fucking big for my house, to another part of my fairly small living room. I need to buy a smaller couch, but for some reason they are a bitch to find. It faces the fireplace now. I need to buy a mantle. Or

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-69633942357118160632010-11-28T18:42:00.000-08:002010-11-28T18:42:36.713-08:00

Dear Diary: I seem to have an ability to understand things.  When they are explained, I can find the reason and rationale behind them.  However, there are two things on this planet that I simply cannot for the life of me understand: women, and traffic. Now, since I have a penis, the odds of me ever being able to understand women are somewhere between none and never in a million fucking years. 

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-2621820406276538802010-11-23T10:55:00.000-08:002010-11-23T10:55:32.970-08:00

Dear Diary: First of all, it is about 67 degrees here in the nation's capital the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. And while I am not one to complain, this makes absofuckinglutely no sense whatsoever. It is someone strange to walk outside and see the leaves changing color and falling everywhere, and yet it's, dare I say, warm out. I really hope this means we get a shit ton of snow this year.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-44330109512487033492010-11-22T12:06:00.000-08:002010-11-22T12:06:03.310-08:00

Dear Diary: Fuck you Sincerely, Me

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-87350612946778070542010-11-16T19:11:00.000-08:002010-11-16T19:11:31.188-08:00

Dear Diary: I am loving the whole not dating thing at the moment. I am loving the whole not even worrying about dating at the moment. In fact, I think I like it so much because... -I don't have to worry about making a good first impression. -I can get back to a routine of working, working out, writing, and doing my own thing. -Dating is hazardous to the waistline. I don't have to worry

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-30553041064430385522010-11-08T12:53:00.000-08:002010-11-08T12:53:30.068-08:00

Dear Diary: I am not a fan of the word "date" these days. I mean, the word itself has so many different meanings. It could mean a particular month, day, and year when some event happened or will happen, or it could mean the day of the month. It could mean and inscription that shows the time, or time and place, of something written, cast, or delivered, or it can mean the time to which any

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-66445901692083731042010-11-05T19:29:00.000-07:002010-11-05T19:29:32.561-07:00

Dear Diary: I have decided to go ahead and cancel the subscription I had to the online dating service that I was using (and yes, it was a legitimate one, I am just not saying which one it was because they don't fucking pay me to promote them). The fact is, I am just burned out when it comes to dating. Ok, let me rephrase that. I am burned out putting myself out there and getting shot the fuck

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-58179045982908460872010-11-02T08:26:00.000-07:002010-11-05T13:54:54.291-07:00

Dear Diary:(Ok, before getting into anything I imagine that you have noticed that I am writing a bit more. This is true, and this also has to do with the fact that I cannot work out at the moment and need to take my mind off that, as well as the fact that I have quit nicotine cold turkey and need to take my mind off that. So, it is either write, or cook an elaborate meal. And I do not have

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-43910465961215062842010-11-01T11:59:00.001-07:002010-11-01T12:01:11.607-07:00

Dear Diary:Alright folks, I am a bit bored and unable to focus on anything other than the fact that my mouth is sore and I am having nicotine withdrawals (the nicotine withdrawals are good though since I am quitting).That being said, ask me some questions, would ya? You can either email me directly by going to my blogger profile, or leave them as a comment.Now get crackin'. Let's see what you

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-14424827691275671972010-10-31T18:09:00.000-07:002010-11-02T13:48:09.929-07:00

Dear Diary:Houston, we have a problem.This is my first Halloween in my house. A few weeks ago, I was being told by my friend and his wife that I would be swarmed with kids looking for candy. I was told that even if I had the lights off, I would have kids banging on my door demanding treats. I was told they blew through eight bags of candy last year.So, this year I was going to be prepared.Oh

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-37995587873917918352010-10-31T14:10:00.001-07:002010-10-31T14:26:21.585-07:00

Dear Diary:Really?Seriously?Are you fucking kidding me?Ok, so, obviously (if it isn't fucking obvious to you wake the fuck up) I am annoyed. Secondly, I am nicotine free and have nothing to take the edge off. Thirdly, my roommate has been a close friend of mine since we were in high school, but fourthly, at this point, I want to throw him and his shit out on the fucking street.Because he has NO

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-76222968909059153402010-10-30T16:31:00.000-07:002010-10-30T16:39:27.977-07:00

Dear Diary:I REALLY WANT SOME FUCKING NICOTINE.Not only is my mouth fucking hurting, but I cannot take the edge off with a dip, so, I am a bit annoyed.But on the bright side, I will finally be able to give up that disgusting habit, even if at this very moment, I would love pop a dip in.Now, for those who have never had an addiction to nicotine, I say first, don't judge. Going cold turkey is

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-71400857321133113942010-10-29T15:21:00.001-07:002010-10-29T15:56:27.821-07:00

Dear Diary:Well, I am thankful today is over. The root canal went off without a hitch, and I am now sitting here with faint tastes of blood in my mouth as a result of having two wisdom teeth removed.Oh, and I am hopped up on Vicodin. And part of my face is still numb. And I feel like someone punched me in the mouth, with a Volvo.The root canal was the easy part. In fact, this is my second

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-89205624244072705052010-10-26T18:43:00.000-07:002010-10-26T18:50:17.095-07:00

Dear Diary:I've been told I have a nice smile. That is when I smile these days. Which isn't often at the moment since I seemed to be bogged down in bullshit.What I do know about my smile is that, well, after today, it is one expensive fucking smile.Yes, I need dental work. How much you ask? How does getting a root canal sound to you? Oh, sounds like fun? Well then, how does having wisdom

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-7825432704040998682010-10-24T17:54:00.001-07:002010-10-24T18:28:42.072-07:00

Dear Diary:I have been seriously dating in the District a little over a year. When I say seriously dating I mean seriously putting myself out there, not relationship bullshit like, "sorry you buxom blond bimbo with DSLs from heaven, I have a girlfriend."If there is one thing I have learned over the past year or so (give or take a couple months because I have been dealing with other shit thank

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-370153926158911782010-10-15T10:11:00.000-07:002010-10-15T11:10:02.238-07:00

Dear Diary:Oftentimes, particularly in the blogosphere (did I even spell that right?) surrounding blogs about relationships or the destruction of relationships, we find little reassurances that everything is going to be fine in the end. Also, one may start writing on a subject, and others will pick up on it and provide their own take, but the gist of it is that people will recover, get stronger,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-8116197689639218022010-10-12T07:20:00.000-07:002010-10-12T07:37:33.631-07:00

Dear Diary:For She is always busy. And She isn't that responsive, nor is She receptive. So I put the ball in her court.Yet I can take a hint.(I should have written this weeks ago, but I have been a little busy. Fucking sue me)

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-87956346334851953482010-10-02T18:56:00.000-07:002010-10-02T19:33:13.159-07:00

Dear Diary:And then there was fire.......And not just any fire, but MY fire. The fire I have been waiting for roughly 21 months.That's right baby, daddy has a grill! And not just any grill. A five burner gas grill with side burner. The grill the size of a small automobile. The grill that I have been waiting for for what seemed like a fucking eternity.And I do not want to hear that it is

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-9032026184050496382010-09-25T21:51:00.000-07:002010-09-25T22:14:58.742-07:00

Dear Diary:I'm 32 years old, and for a while now I feel as though I don't fit in anywhere. I don't really belong to any group of people, and my social circle is somewhat small to tell you the truth.My childhood was what one could call a nomadic existence, moving about every three years while my dad worked his way up in his chosen field. It wasn't easy to make friends, and it wasn't easy to keep

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-83654752440414973212010-09-20T18:46:00.000-07:002010-09-20T19:28:00.584-07:00

Dear Diary:Five months ago I stepped on a scale and weighed 264 pounds. During the month of August, I was in a cast and could not exercise, and that, coupled with being in an absolute funk and emotionally eating and drinking, put me back to to 264 pounds.Over the last month, I have felt my clothes getting tighter, and there are some shirts that I cannot even wear at the moment. This bothers me.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-23042581775539694462010-09-13T19:08:00.000-07:002010-09-13T19:28:58.876-07:00

Dear Diary:She is probably the most laid back, yet outgoing woman I have met. Words that I would use to describe her are intelligent, lively, thoughtful, entertaining, fun, youthful, ambitious, determined, self-aware, graceful, kind.Who is this you might be asking? She is the girl I mentioned roughly a month ago that my friend is trying to set me up with. We have gone out twice.She is a bit of

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-32545545311032998932010-09-11T20:14:00.000-07:002010-09-11T20:37:00.475-07:00

"It may not mean nothing to y'allBut understand nothing was done for meSo I don't plan on stopping at allI want this shit forever mine, ever mine, ever mine"-DrakeDear Diary:I've worked for everything I have. I've taken on risk. I've lost. I've won. I like to think I have won more than I lost. Now, that is not to say that I have not had help along the way on occasion. But, help ends at a

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-61913077233714395282010-09-06T19:19:00.000-07:002010-09-06T20:34:58.409-07:00

Dear Diary:I first seriously kissed a girl when I was 16 years old. I can remember ever single detail about that first kiss. I remember exactly where I was. I remember exactly how she looked. I remember who she is, and we are still friends (at least on that social networking site that shall not be named because they are not writing me a check). I remember my first drink. I was a freshman in

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-40346865473584579372010-09-02T11:57:00.000-07:002010-09-02T12:16:43.967-07:00

Dear Diary:It's a bit amazing what one takes for granted by the simple fact that he or she may have two properly functioning hands. For the last month, I have not had two properly functioning hands. I have had a hand, and a thumb.At the moment, I still do not have two properly functioning hands. However, I have one good hand and one hand that opens to about 160 degrees. I can make a fist with

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-17917938863606685102010-08-31T18:40:00.000-07:002010-08-31T19:31:14.029-07:00

Dear Diary:That which you are about to read will include profanity, blatant sexual references and may or may not make any sense. Reader discretion is advised.The Divorced Guys Rules for Ending Sexual Relationships--Don't be mean. Just let time kinda take its course. Fucking someone, no matter how good the sex, can't last forever, so, ride it out (pun intended), and just let it flow.-Be honest.

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-66141495512203455772010-08-25T12:43:00.000-07:002010-08-25T13:53:41.276-07:00

Dear Diary:T-Minus 6 days until my cast is removed. Now, this does not mean that I have regained the sensation that was cut (no pun intended...ok, yeah, it was intended) away as a result of the original injury, but I have felt tingling, which is a positive step. What this DOES mean though is that I will no longer have this medieval torture device strapped around my hand. This is good. So,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-15288674763595491712010-08-16T19:17:00.002-07:002010-08-26T08:01:08.227-07:00

Dear Diary,I'm confident I am a good man. I'm confident I am worth knowing. I'm confident I have intrinsic value. I'm confident I am worth something, and will be worth a lot to a special someone in the future.I'm also confident there is no such thing as a woman that it out of my league.Sure, there are stunningly beautiful women on this city that wouldn't give me the time of day, but that

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-42885714359258142182010-08-15T19:57:00.000-07:002010-08-15T20:27:47.871-07:00

Dear Diary:Well shit.No seriously, I need to shit.One of the side effects that doctors do not always tell you when prescribing pain medication is that it can, and will, make you constipated.I know, just what you wanted to hear, right?So, needless to say, my bowel movements have not been that regular. I walk around feeling like I am carrying a baby: a big, stinky, turd baby.Now for us guys,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-90621034510505166682010-08-12T19:44:00.000-07:002010-08-12T21:08:09.715-07:00

Dear Diary:I walk down the street and go unnoticed. Does anyone see me? Is anyone interested in really knowing me? Do they even care about my story?We all have a story, or rather a collection of stories that compose the symphony that is our life. Is anyone interested in hearing mine? There are millions of people that walk this planet every single day asking this same question. But I don't

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-14109463364122782722010-08-09T09:24:00.000-07:002010-08-09T09:49:05.863-07:00

Dear Diary:I cannot do much these days because of one tiny fucking nerve in my hand.I cannot cook really. I cannot chop veggies or hold anything with two hands.I cannot work out. I cannot lift weights. I cannot even go for a run. I feel like crap. I feel disgusting. I believe I can see pounds being added.I cannot get dressed easily. I cannot button a shirt. Putting on pants is a challenge

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-16922089595874970392010-08-05T08:36:00.000-07:002010-08-05T08:59:31.981-07:00

Dear Diary:Ouch!! Ouch I say!This is what happens when you are not paying attention. I took this picture in the recovery room about ten minutes after waking up from surgery. The fucking cast is the size of a Buick. It is only good for clubbing small animals, or maybe I could use it as a nice decorative piece. I could probably even use it to strengthen the foundation of a large building.I

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-42468454432249501522010-08-02T16:07:00.000-07:002010-08-02T16:30:56.300-07:00

Dear Diary:Tomorrow I go in for surgery to repair a severed nerve in my hand. As a result, I will be in a cast for 2-3 weeks while everything heals. As a result of that, the likelihood of you hearing from me is not that high.So I figured I would just rant and rave about completely random bullshit, maybe go on some tangents in a stream of consciousness type of way, bitch and moan about a couple

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-74759529000199554022010-07-25T17:34:00.000-07:002010-07-25T17:50:35.141-07:00

Dear Diary,Since I really have nothing to write about other than my hand and the sheer annoyance that is it becoming, I will tell you a story. Or is it give you a recollection? Share a memory maybe? Eh, anyway, I am tired, it is hot out, and the coffee I am drinking hasn't kicked in yet, but here goes.I am going to take you back to a happier time, or at least one day in my life where I was so

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-23227660182717001162010-07-18T16:31:00.000-07:002010-07-18T17:06:24.539-07:00

Dear Diary:Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of one man, and one avocado, for they shall forever be intertwined from now until eternity, or rather, until he is dead and buried and no one gives two shits about his severed nerve.I need surgery.Fuck me standing.I had an appointment with one of the top dogs of orthopedic surgery in the area (because this is the treatment

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830852091598952409.post-5473480035360607542010-07-13T19:48:00.000-07:002010-07-13T20:02:12.398-07:00

dear diary,i like me some avocados. they are tasty little suckers and i could eat them daily if i had the opportunity to. but those tasty little suckers have ruined me. how so?well thursday i was trying to take the pit out of one at work, making myself a tomato and avocado salad. the knife slipped and i stabbed myself. and when i say stabbed i mean stabbed, the blade, a serrated one no less,

The Divorced Guyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09576627776982633940noreply@blogger.com6