In an effort to try and keep things shorter I cut the Ask Manton column into two parts. You might ask yourself, "hey idiot, if you knew ahead of time you were going to make this into two parts, why not write two first, so the reader can naturally read from the top down through both posts seamlessly?" Good question. The answer is...just fucking scroll down and scroll back up. This isn't going anywhere, and you obviously have nothing better to do if you're reading this. So just take the time and enjoy my nonsensical answers to the questions that plague the readership of Almost Enlightening (or "Manton" as its known in some circles - hi girls I don't know!).
From Someone Else Who Refuses To Even Put Down A Nickname:
is it possible for humans to have sex with monkeys? i always wanted to know. please get back to me ASAP. thanks
Oddly enough, Monday is the 25th anniversary of AIDS, so this is a topical question. It is most certainly possible for humans to have sex with monkeys. The problem that you might run into, however, is while trying to seduce the monkey, it climbs on your face and savagely rips it off of your skull. The danger factor of having sex with a monkey lies somewhere between a belt sander and a Latino girl with a boyfriend (and his butterfly knife). Just a heads up, though. If you think herpes is bad, christ only knows what lies inside that adorable little creature. It would be like opening Pandora's box...just with a monkey box. Wow was that terrible and distasteful.
Ok, fine. How bout: Why do guys feel the need to yell out their car window at girls? I am SO SICK of this. What does it accomplish? Yeah, um, GREAT way to pick up girls, douchebag. Chicks really dig you and your sketchy car, cruising down Comm Ave and yelling things like, "Yo girls!" and "Woooooo!" or (my personal favorite) "Titties!" I'm at the point where I want the female population to rebel. Yell back, chase after the car, carry silly string or tomatoes (just in case) or... I don't even know. *sigh*
MANTON....I can't think of anything right now, but the next time I have something about which I want to rant, I promise your blog will be the first to know. I will, however, second the "yelling out the car window at women" topic TENFOLD! Don't do it. Just...don't do it.
I have never, and will never, understand this inclination for the male population to yell shit out at girls. First off, the idea of picking up a girl in a car is fundamentally flawed. You are in a machine that is created to move, not giving a person enough time to even procure a phone number. No one is going to just hop into your car, no matter how nice it is. Well, not unless you have candy. All this action does is infuriate women. Although I do see the comedy of yelling out "titties" for no reason because, well, "titties" is a funny word. It is sort of like how "faggot" is an inflammatory term to denigrate gays and lesbians, so you shouldn't say it. But it's so much fun to say! There is hope in the future, however, as "bitch" is now becoming universal for all of the sexes. We are waging battles on many fronts my friends, but we are winning the war.
My explanation for why it happens is that it's harmless. Here you can yell out flirtatious things and not have the fear of striking out. There's no way you're going to get anything but attention, so go for it. I have been involved in a similar situation down the shore that started with one of my friends pointing to a girl walking and saying "damn, she's hot." We all agree, and one of the guys in the car is like "yeah, yeah...I gotta tell her." You quickly try to window lock and roll it up so that your friend can't yell that out, but he does, and everyone in the car giggles nervously. In some cases ladies, it's not about you as much as embarrassing the hell out of all of your friends. In this way, you are merely objectified by men. Nothing new, right?
From Another Coward:
aright i wanna talk about how wonderful online pictures are. People have fucking huge albums full of pictures of themselves online and they all look the same. It doesn't make any damn sense.
I love it when people are looking away from the camera in a picture like something else is going on. "Alright I got this shot set up perfect here we g...whoa a monarch butterfly, those kick ass ::click:: damnit."
or talking on the phone like they couldnt hold the call for a picture for 2 fucking seconds, like they went "Shit I was going to take this picture but I gotta take this important call real quick ::click:: damnit oh well I guess I'll have to save this pic of me looking disinterested and busy with a phone call."
or flexing like "whoa, didn't see you there I was in the middle of this set"
There are many times while writing these 60+ posts where I rant and rant and become hypocritical about the subject at one time or another. Hell, I said I'd never have a blog and here I am, whoring it out like it's going to bring me anything but the attention of my friends and friends of friends. I will freely admit that I am a culprit of the "looking away" picture, and will defend myself, mostly because I think it's my favorite picture of me ever:
There are many plusses to this picture. Stephanie, the girl in the picture, is trying to do a pose and I am doing nothing of the sort. She tries, though. Bless her drunken heart. I am a fan of any pic of me that can be put on an album cover ("where's he looking? Man, he's deep, just like track three, "Loveball"). This picture was also taken without my knowledge. I turned to my left and all of a sudden there was a girl with a camera and a pose to my left. As you could tell, I could care less, as all that's running through my mind was "oh christ, Emily's going to fall off the dresser and break her fucking head open, and I don't want to clean up brain matter." Not every "I'm totally not looking...dude, take it now cause I'm not looking!" picture is actually planned.
What baffles me is why some people on facebook have 300 pictures...of themselves. What term is there that is akin to "super self-masturbation?" Sure, this comes from someone who feels it necessary to tell other people his thoughts on such trivial things as internet pictures, but how many pictures does a person need to feed the beast? Do you constantly forget who you are (and if so, doesn't it suck that YOU did it?) and need to be reminded at all times? "Who's that? Oh yeah, me! ....but who's that? Oh yeah, me! ...and that's....oh, that's me, yeah, right." More so, who the fuck wants to see 300 pictures of you? Unless you're a millionaire who takes a weekly trip somewhere else in the world, no one cares. Yeah, I'd love to see a slide show of you in your dorm with random people from the hall. Sure. Go for it. I'm fucking captivated.
The creepiest thing about so many pictures is how a lot of them are exactly the same. There is the one girl who has the same smile in every single picture, no matter the circumstance or who they are with. You flash through every pic quickly and imagine that this could only happen in The Omen as some sort of clue that he or she is, in fact, the spawn of Satan. My ex had a series of pics with her friends that were eerily similar no matter the location, clothing, or time of day. It was the same number of girls, doing the same pose, in the same order. I never understood the necessity of taking 30 pictures of what is essentially the same thing, nor will I ever comprehend why girls love pictures so much. At that same Cinqo de Maio party I talked about earlier I took these three girls' picture three times: one in the basement, one in the kitchen, one by a wall by the door. Same girls, same pose, same smile. Don't girls have memories, or is that standard issue with males only?
The silliest thing in the world is taking a picture of yourself and you're looking away. You're taking it yourself. You know when the camera will flash. You know where the camera is aimed. Why, oh why, must you look to the side? There is no possible way that you can't plan that picture; your god damn arm is RIGHT THERE holding the camera. The acting in those pictures, or ones where you just "don't know it's coming," are always horrendous. As the reader mentioned, it's the flex and the look of "oh wait there's a camera here?" when that same guy is already in five previous pictures holding on to some girl around the waist with the "I'm a stupid looking drunk frat boy" face on in full blast.
The creepiest thing I have ever seen involves internet pictures and taking pictures yourself. There was a kid who wrote into the Daily Free Press and complained about something innocuous...which, of course, infuriated me beyond the telling of it. Doing what any sane and rational person would, I immediately hopped on facebook to find anything to make me hate him more. "He likes Episode III? What a fucking asshole! Ew, O.A.R? I knew this kid sucked! Now I have the undeniable proof!" What I did not see coming was his photo album, composed of 14 pictures of this boy posed in front of famous landmarks in England. He either went alone or has no friends because each picture was taken by himself He has the same carefree smile, slight glance above the camera, and general features one would find in a super pedophile--the kind they make movies about. I went from anger to sheer horror. It is still the most horrific thing I have ever seen...mostly because I refused to watch the beheading videos.
From my pal Ryan Lambert:
There's this episode of the Twilight Zone where there's a nuclear apocalypse, and one person (a farsighted bank teller who loves reading) survived because he had fallen asleep in the vault during his lunch break. When he awakes and finds the world he knew to be a ravaged cityscape, except for a few parts of a few larger buildings, including the local library.
Instead of feeling infinitely sad and lonely, he is glad that now has all the time in the world to read anything he so chooses. He goes to work making stacks of books that he will read, arranged by month. But then he trips walking up the library's front steps, and his glasses break, rendering him unable to read any of these books that he had worked so meticulously to organize.
I find myself thinking how much I envy him whenever I read your blog.
I love how this heavy-handed bastard had to explain every single part of the show to get his two-dollar punch line over. What kind of car did he drive? Did he wear slacks or sensible pants? Jesus christ, meander a little more before hitting the funny, stupid.
You've written about a lot of personal moments on this blog. Has anyone ever gotten really upset that something was written about them? If so, can you relate other embarrassing moments of said person?
Also, you should mention my name a lot more than you do.
For the most part, everyone is fine with being mentioned here. What really surprised me is how little flack I received for the Manton vs. Woman series. The only one that got some raised eyebrows was the Sasha post, but there was no real way to beat around the bush there. I asked all of the girls I'm still in contact with if they were ok with the posts and none of them had a problem (not like I would take them down anyway). I try to be fair in everything I write. I am a self-depricating, self-esteemless boob, so it isn't like I use this to bolster my ego. One of the unforseen advantages of this nonsense is that it could help people. One girl read an entry and had an epiphany of sorts. It was over the fact that she wasn't the nicest of people and it devastated her...but it led to good! Also, it just shows that Marsha doesn't read this....
There was one big flare up, however. I live in a very small town where everyone knows everyone, and most importantly all of their personal business. This curiosity does not lend itself well to a blog that I use to voice my opinions and exorcise some of my own demons. In fact, while discussing my break up with my girlfriend back in Jersey, this place (apparently) became a perfect place to find drama, gossip, and rumors. It got to a point where I got fed up with how immature some people are. Don't fucking read this if you're going to use it against other people; that's not the point. I have only received one complaint, and it was from my ex. It prompted this post, which tried to explain in no uncertain terms "how about you leave her alone, k douchebags?" just with a more civil tone.
My mom got the link to this around my 50th post a month or so ago. She fervently read though everything (except for Manton vs. Woman, a play on Man vs. Woman that no one seemed to get) and asked me bluntly, "why do you tell people these things?" I never had a problem voicing my opinion or my personal affairs mostly because I love the easy laugh. I grew up, like most people, as a self-hating, miserable middle schooler. My mom would always say "everyone else is going through the same thing, they just hide it better." As I looked around my schoolmates, I could never see that crack through their exteriors to clue me in that such an idea was true. Around freshman year, I decided it was time to unabashedly show my thoughts, faults, etc. in little writings in an effort to show other people that if they do feel the same way, they aren't alone, and here is concrete proof. That noble deed was coupled with my yearning for attention and a pension to write out my feelings and frustrations as a catharsis.
Not much has changed in the years, except that I am now somewhat readable. I am always surprised when people I do not know read this (and I know for certain that it does happen every now and then) because you would think that there should be some link to me to read about my life, my thoughts...well, about me. One of my friends said, "well, it's interesting reading about stuff from a college kid." While growing up I never had anything to read or base my actions off of. There was no easy teenage guide. If I could somehow provide some sort of a safety net for kids who are a bit younger than me, then I have done something more than I ever intended. That also sounds like I'm really full of myself.
To get on topic, the biggest complaint that I have ever had came from me, cause I simply don't really grasp what this thing means. It could mean nothing to someone, and a lot to others. I could be making this out to be more important than it is, or conversely not giving it its proper weight. There was an air of importance in writing about breaking up with Haley because I wanted to get all of those feelings out, but also to relate to other people. I sent a friend of mine something I just wrote to get my own head straight, she identified with it, and I put it up. There is a delicate balance that I have to reach, I guess, and I hope I can figure it out one day.
David Sedaris wrote in one of his books that his family became very wary when talking to him, concerned about what might be published in one of his memoirs. More than the balance, I hope to reach THAT level. Shit that was a wordy answer to a three sentence question.
hey. im still waiting for an answer on that monkey question. hurry... its been a week since ive gotten any.. and that chimp over there looks pretty delishh.
This kid goes a week and is already peeling off into bestiality. I've gone about a month and a half with no future prospects to "get any" from, so what am I supposed to nail? Should I give up on living things and just go with inanimate objects? Does anyone have an inflatable dolphin I can deflower?
Thanks to everyone who participated. I'll take a stab at this again down the line if anyone is interested and enjoyed this li'l back and forth. If no one did, well, it was good while it lasted.