A Call To Arms.

I'm not exactly sure how to put all this, because it's just been formulating in my mind over the last few minutes. But...

I see men my age, mid to late 30's, and they look like they're 55. I see them at jobs they clearly hate. I see them driving trucks they can't afford, driving to homes that have them in debt until at least the age of 70, going home to wives who don't love them and never will, no matter how hard they work or how many sacrifices they make.

No wonder they look old already.

I'm shocked when I see how closely I came to that. How lucky I am to be divorced, to have gotten off the hook so easily.

So many of the great ills of humanity- war, famine, industrialization, overpopulation- have been caused either in whole or in part by a man trying to win the favor of a woman. Yet- we take the blame for all of it. Nevermind that a man never wanted to start a war or build a factory simply for his own satisfaction- it always comes down to wanting to impress, provide for, or otherwise please a woman. But when it's time to lay blame for the disastrous results, it's a man every time who goes to the gallows.

I've seen it in my own community- the constant reminders that "women are sacred", and the unspoken insinuation that men are not. The laughter that follows a man's mistakes and the gentle support that follows a woman's. The idea that a woman is worth more because she is able to bear children. This, THIS is what it is to be a Native man- it's not all horses and spears. We who were once the proud hunters and fighters of the plains and woodlands and coasts have been reduced to nothing more than very large children- and it's because we've allowed our women unrestricted access to our lives. 

In the name of "women's liberation", we have allowed the rights of men to be trampled and disregarded. When men have needed support the very most- such as the post-war period after the Vietnam conflict- women were the least available to us, leaving us to our own devices and in fact telling us over and over again that we were unnecessary, unwanted and abusive. Way to kick us when we're down, ladies. And you wonder why you can't find a good man? As a product of that post-Vietnam, women's-lib generation I can tell you that you have nearly bred "good" men out of existence by feminizing them to the point of being nearly indistinguishable from women. Yes! Other than physically, men have been forced to be almost exactly the same as their women. Do the same things, say the same things, work the same jobs, go the same places. Every time I see a man holding his woman's purse, I want to smack him in the face just to wake him up. She's testing you, man! She's pushing her boundaries and breaking down yours. Have some goddamn self-esteem! Hold your head up!

We die younger, we have a higher incidence of heart attacks, we're more likely to suffer horrible work- or war-related injuries. Oh, but that's alright, because we make a higher income, right? Yeah, except we're spending that money on our wives and the children our wives pushed us into having, often by sabotaging their own birth control- an act that is more "rape" than any act of rape ever perpetrated upon the body of a woman. The amount of actual income an average man is able to spend on HIMSELF is alarmingly low- so low that if we were to be judged by that portion of our income alone, we'd be in deeper poverty than a Darfur war orphan.

Come to think of it, maybe that's an explanation as to why I see men in shiny new F-150 pickup trucks, wearing the rattiest, nastiest t-shirt you can imagine... they can't afford a 3-pack of Hanes t-shirts at Wal-Mart because of the debt they're saddled with paying for that truck, a mortgage on a house much larger and newer than they need, and an average of $20,000 in credit card debt- all because he wanted to impress a woman and make her think he was a good provider.

Considering all that, if it were me, I might wanna watch football too. Just for the escape. If I was in their position, I might drink too much, cheat on my wife, and do anything else just to make myself feel for even a few fleeting moments that I was an individual, that I had some semblance of freedom and that I could make choices affecting the course of my own destiny.

Really. I said it before but it bears saying again- I got off so fucking lucky. I've been divorced twice, the first time because I deserved it, but the second time was more an act of mercy. I didn't see it that way at first- I railed against it, I wanted her back, I was devastated. But more than two years later, I realize the great gift I received the day my wife left. Not to say she's a bad person, she isn't. But I have reemerged into this world, reborn, with my dignity and self-respect intact, and still young enough to enjoy the freedoms of this world before I die and return to the soil that bore me.

I'm 37 years old, I don't own a car or a house, I don't have a legitimate job, I have no credit cards and I've only had a bank account for a bit longer than a year- I barely use it. I don't smoke, I don't do drugs, I exercise regularly and I eat pretty good. I have the absolute adoration and respect of a three year old daughter. I'm in the best physical condition I've ever been in, and I've never been happier than I am right now. I have these gifts because at several points in my life, I was brave enough to tell a woman to go fuck herself, that I wasn't going to try to impress her anymore and that I was going to live my life on my terms.

Men, you need to stand up for yourselves. Stop being the bitch. Put on the pants and be the man you were born to be.

New Website!

Today, my new website www.fencepostmachines.com launched. I'm excited about it, because I'm hoping it'll give my machine customers a more streamlined, efficient way of seeing what I have available for sale as well as getting in touch with me for parts, repairs, rebuilds or anything else they need.

Please take a look at the site and if you have any advice or criticism, let me know.

A few thoughts.

I'm actually glad to be heading back to Oklahoma today. "Welcome to the Gates of Hell", my friend said as she dropped me off at the airport where I'd begin my journey back to OKC. Well, if hell awaits me, then bring that shit on. I have evolved- or perhaps declined- to the point of openly welcoming the loneliness, anger, pain and worry that make up my life in the strange land where I make my home. My first few days back in OKC are gonna hurt, and I can't fucking wait.  Bring me the agony.

____________________________

In a couple more generations, we're all going to be girls. The breakdown of Manhood is THAT complete. We won't even be Women, because Men and Women cannot exist in the absence of one another. We'll all just be girls- obsessed with clothes, pop culture, and designer sunglasses.

It's happening.

______________________________

I didn't have a childhood- I had a case history. I had no elders, no real role models to speak of. Who I am today is something I myself had to forge through fire and pain and blood- only some of it my own.

_______________________________

Social networking sites have made everyone into a pseudo-celebrity. The Facebook Famous, reporting the oh-so-glamorous minutae of their typical suburbanite wage-slave lives. "OMG we got so drunk lololol", they proclaim- adding nothing to the collective human intellect but certainly not taking much away from it, either.

Please surrender your brains. You've violated the Terms of Service.

From Olympia, With Love

I've been here in Olympia, Washington for about 5 days now, and it's been great. First of all, the shop I'm working at (Inklife Tattoo) is incredible. I've often felt like a square peg in a round hole at a lot of shops where I've worked; I've often felt I didn't fit in, usually because of the weak, bullshit approach to life and business that those people had. With this crew, I just automatically clicked with everybody and really genuinely enjoy spending time around them. And the money is there. So that's good.

But of course more importantly- at least to me- it's great to be home. I grew up here, in Washington. As soon as I landed on the flight from OKC to Seattle, I could feel the change. The air is different here, full of possibilities and ideas and new life. Walking outside becomes a reawakening. Every tree I see is like an old friend I haven't seen in years, it's all so familiar yet at the same time it's fresh to me and I have a new found appreciation for this place that I didn't really have when I lived here before. Like, I didn't really realize what I had until I lost it.

It's strange, too, what Washington does for my attitude. I'm friendlier here. I am in my element; I want to be nice to people, I want to speak to strangers, I honestly enjoy looking people in the eye and smiling at them here. In Oklahoma, I endure others. Here, I see them as potential allies. 

The earth seems more fertile here than it does in Oklahoma. It seems ripe and lush. I tell everyone who will listen, Oklahoma is not my homeland. Oklahoma is where Cherokee people were sent to die. We surprised everyone by not only surviving, but thriving. Oklahoma is not my home. My home is anywhere and nowhere. I view the house I live in as little more than a tent- just a temporary spot to put my stuff.

I sometimes wonder if I would be better served by just compartmentalizing portions of my life, storing them away in the back of my mind like boxes in a closet- unseen, nearly forgotten, ignored. My day-to-day life in Oklahoma seems easier if I can force myself to disregard the strong feelings I have for this place. It's almost like longing after a dead relative or an ex-wife you know will never come back to you. You're better off if you can just forget about it.

Soon my time here will draw to a close, and I'll head down to Portland for a few days before somehow flying out of here- I haven't yet bought my ticket back to OKC. I hope to visit my family's camp in the woods, and reconnect with some very important key pieces of myself there, before returning to Oklahoma. I assume that once I return, I'll be back to my usual hateful, arrogant, boastful, prideful self. Enjoy your time with Nice Frank while it lasts.

Dating Sites Explained

Gentlemen, behold! I have unlocked the secret to deciphering the profiles of women on dating websites. Through a recent completely random selection on a dating website I have NEVER visited before because I NEVER USE THEM BECAUSE I AM A REAL MAN AND NEVER EVER EVER HAVE A PROBLEM GETTING DATES, EVER, I have developed a method by which the hidden meaning deep within the profile of any hot sexy 300 pound single mom in a trailer can be exposed so that you can make her your WoW girlfriend... overnight!

Here, on my goddamn blog, completely free of charge, I will publish one (1) free sample.

 USER NAME: SINGLEFEMALE69 (I swear I am NOT making that up. This user name will be important later, when you're reading how much she hates guys who just want sex... but she went ahead and threw in "69", just to get your attention.)

HER words are bolded; MY TRANSLATIONS are italicized. Read 'em and weep, boys.

I'm looking for that special someone to complete my life.
(I am incomplete. Please make me whole.)
 I have had some bad relationships in the past, but I know there has to be a great guy out there for me!
(My last three relationships have ended in enough tears and bloodshed to fuel a Somali pirate ship. My stalking abilities know no bounds.)
 I need a man that can enjoy my company as much as I will enjoy his. If it's going out or just staying home and watching a movie together.
(I'm insecure. Tell me constantly how much you enjoy my company. Talk about nothing but "us". No matter where we are, constant eye contact is a must; looking away for even a second is indicative of "relationship problems"... even on our second date.)
 I'm 5'4", brown hair/green eyes. I have a cute face and a thick waist. I HAVE ONE PIERCING AND 7 TATS, so if that isn't your thing....SORRY!
( I have cleverly disguised "thick waist" with all these other, less off-putting physical descriptors for good reason. I am enormous. Please ask me where my piercing is; you may need to help me find it, as I have not personally seen it in several years.)
I love all kinds of music from country to rock and some rap.
( I have poor decision-making skills and little impulse control. I don't like being expected to make choices; thusly, I have very few concrete loyalties, even to my closest friends.)
 I prefer movies with a good story line, not really into sci-fi but I'm willing to compromise.
(I'll compromise because I haven't been on a date since before the birth of my sixth child. I'M SO FUCKING LONELY. SCI-FI IS FINE. JUST LOVE ME.)
 I am a VERY out going person that will try just about anything.
(coughcoughWHOREcoughcough)
 I am looking for a man that knows what he wants,
(As long as it's me,)
and doesn't play head games!
(Because that's MY job, dammit.)
So guys, PLEASE STOP wasting my time if you are.
(Between Roseanne reruns and waiting for the pizza guy, my time is precious.)
 I am not looking for a one night stand or mr. right now or friends with benefits,so AGAIN,if that's what your looking for then please go find someone else!
(Please understand I will incessantly nag you for a commitment almost from the moment we meet. But here, let me type 69 again. 69. 69. 69.)
 I want a long term relationship. I know he is out there somewhere, and I will take my time to find him.
(I have very very large ankles.)
 If there is anything I may have left out and you would like to know, feel free to send a message and ask!! If you would like to see more pics I have them.
(Email me for naked pictures and sexy sexy cyber love.)

On our first date, I'd like to go somewhere nice and quiet,
(And preferably dark)
 so we can talk and get to know each other and take it from there.
(So I can give you a half-hearted handjob after asking you far too many questions about your occupation and income.)
Definately not a movie since you cannot talk,
(Again, I need your complete undivided attention at all times. Are you listening to me?)
possibly dinner, drinks at a decent restaurant would be fun!
(I'M SO HUNGRY.)

So there it is. The online-dating-website-woman-translator-thingie. I hope you've enjoyed your free sample, and if you'd like to download the whole program, please contact me.

Fake tits don't move me much. But if you wanna go all Capt. Save-A-Ho, cool.

I'm glad this has been brought up in a public forum, so that I can respond to it for everyone to see.

The machine in question was given to me for a rebuild nearly 3 years ago, if I remember right. The agreement was that I'd rebuild it, notify Kat (the owner of the machine) that it was finished, and she would then pay for the rebuild via Paypal.

I lived up to my end- I took a machine that was barely functioning and turned it into a lean, mean thing of beauty. I sent pictures and a Paypal invoice to Kat, and didn't hear from her. So I texted her and asked if she got the email. "Yeah, I got it. Let me just wait till payday". Several weeks in a row, this was the story. After a while I figured, well, I'll stop being annoying about it. When she's got the money, she'll let me know.

So the machine sat there for months. Eventually I discovered I was moving across the country. So, fine, the machine went in a drawer. By now I've had it about a year, and I've made repeated efforts to find the owner to arrange to get it back to her, with no results.

Finally I decided, fuck this. If I was an auto mechanic I woulda put a lien on this thing and resold it a long time ago. So I got an offer on it from a good friend who taught me to build machines, and got my money finally.

Now another couple years go by- and out of the blue, I get a message from Kat asking for her machine. Uhh... what? No, that's gone, baby. "OH, well can you get it back?" Sure, I'll do you a FAVOR- although you've done me no favors- and see if I can get it back from the dude who bought it after you abandoned it for a year. I asked him, I didn't hear back about it, meanwhile this chick's all up my ass every day about her machine from years ago that she chose to abandon with me.

Finally she sent me some snarky little message copping an attitude, so she went on ignore. Now she can kiss my ass, I won't make even the slightest effort to help somebody if they're gonna be impatient and get all PMS on me about shit that's got nothing to do with me at all.

So, there's the story. The entire story. Far as morals, I never said I have morals. In fact, I probably have much lower moral standards than most people claim to have. But this is definitely not a situation in which my moral fiber is in question at all.

If that doesn't answer your questions adequately, you're welcome to stop by my home at any time to discuss this matter further. My address is available simply by asking me for it through my inbox.

I consider this matter settled unless further facts come to light which I haven't considered yet.

Have a good day, Dan.

Bachelor Life.

It started out with just not doing my laundry sometimes...





Yes, that's smoke coming off them in the second picture- and plenty of it. I make no apologies.