Live It! Reality Bites.

Dicke Kinder flüchten gelegentlich gern mal in Tagträumereien. Dünne Kinder machen sowas bestimmt auch - genauso wie die großen und kleinen, schönen und hässlichen, schwarz, weiß, gelb, lila und buntbefleckten Kinder: Jeder fabuliert sich hin und wieder die grausame Welt bunt und zuckrig. Dicke Kinder haben allerdings oftmals wesentlich mehr Zeit für diese ungesunden Tagträumereien und die daraus resultierende Ausuferung ihrer Phantasie. 
Ich weiß wovon ich rede. Die Grenze zwischen wahrhaft Erlebtem und wahrlich Erfundenem verlief in meiner Jugend äußerst wankelmütig und fernab jeglicher reelen Machbarkeit. Es war zwar nicht so, dass ich mir bewusst eine bessere Kindheit oder ein imposanteres Umfeld zusammengesponnen hatte. Doch wenn man sich wiederholt einredet man sei als Säugling aus dem Kinderwagen der wahren Eltern geraubt worden, nur um anschließend bei dieser klägllich verarmten Frau aufzuwachsen (obwohl man Sprössling einer Dynastie ist), dann glaubt man nicht einfach nur an diese Ungerechtigkeit. Sie bekommt ein Eigenleben und eine Dynamik und ab einem gewissen Punkt kann eben nicht mehr zwischen Wahrem und Nicht-Wahrem unterschieden werden. 
Eine Schneise schizophrener Identitäten umgab mich und hätte ein Kinderpsychologe sich meiner verzerrten Realität angenommen, so wäre die umgehende Verbannung in eine abgedunkelte Isolationszelle ratsam und unausweichlich gewesen.
Erst als ich vor einigen Jahren den Fernseher einschaltete und einen Serienmarathon auf einem Kabelkanal verfolgte fiel mir die frappierende Ähnlichkeit mit meiner Lebensgeschichte und der eines gewissen Adam Carrington auf. Sollte es doch tatsächlich Zufall sein, dass wir beide Opfer einer Entführung wurden? 
Hatte Fortuna geschlafen und uns somit die Aufbringung in Luxus und Reichtum verwehrt und blieben wir daher immer überzeugt davon nicht zugehörig zu sein? 
Ganz wie mein fiktives Ebenbild experimentierte auch ich gelegentlich mit vergifteter Wandfarbe und bemühte mich um die Entmachtung sämtlicher Autoritätspersonen.
Wahn und Fiktion wurden somit zu einem Geschwisterpaar, welches Hand in Hand alles mit Goldstaub, konspirativen Irrtümern und kriminellen Verhaltensweisen fröhlich überzogen und verklärten. 


Live It! This used to be my playground.

Clearly, the inner child in all of us is still very much alive and can be unleashed quite easily. The behavior that some people fall back into at certain points in their life is slightly disturbing at times. For instance: listening in on two love birds and the way they talk to each other often turns into an episode not even the Teletubbies could‘ve made up. Or the sheer enthusiasm some experience when they spot a friend at the playground (grown-ups call it a Bar or a Club or the nearest bathroom stall). Obviously, even a slight cynic can’t resist the fascination with child-activities that one might be too old for, but that are entertaining and fun nevertheless.
It's no wonder we get to a point in our adult life when we must ask: really, what is there to - realistically - add to the concept of joy and excitement once you pass a certain age? To make matters worse, that particular age may vary depending on your social status, group of friends, lack of good looks or intelligence - just look around you and you get the idea! Or better: you are with who you surround yourself with. Depressing, I know! Anway, for now let's just say you're 30+, blessed with extraordinary good looks, a college degree, a bunch of cheerful friends and a healthy appetite for alcoholic beverages and mood enhancers.

What kind of appropriate, light hearted entertainment won’t be regarded as bloody stupid and silly but still factors in the above mentioned staples of your life: friends, money, addictions?
The perfect idea of entertainment for me would be something that engages me to participate, fascinates me, moves me, makes me angry, makes me sad, gives me a good old laugh, educates me, angers me, might bore me at some point but always grabs my attention. Simple as that one might think. Though I admit that entertainment can mean a bunch of different things to so many people. Admittedly, things I personally might find an absolute snooze fest could be first class entertainment for others. This knowledge should be considered when choosing a circle of friends as this will be crucial for it's long lasting success.
Example: Museum exhibitions about science? Yawn! Browsing through book and music stores for hours to find that 1! CD or out of print book? Hurrah! Smartphone games (or should I call them electronic do-it-by-yourself-games-for-the-lonely-people)? Yuck, lame! Aggressive paintball in an open field, a competitive drinking game that leads to full on kinky adventures or watching foreign movies without subtitles and figuring out what the hell that cinematic disaster from Eastern Europe is actually about? Count me in! 
You see, all those things might be fun or might be dreadful but at least they get you involved in some way or the other. Now, try to fit those pill-popping, poor-as-dirt but exceptionally hot friends of yours into this and you will have to admit; entertainment and joy and fun and excitement is clearly something you should‘ve experienced in your early twenties! Preferably with other peoples friends.
Nowadays it is only about surviving 'til the next weekend. Once the work-week is over you can truly relax and let your hair down and gather with those people you might call best buddies (the ones that come from various different backgrounds, cultures, genders, educational upbringing, financial and/or academic status, religions or preferences like straight/gay/trans or a healthy mix of everything), that ended up in the same city as you have and try to get by somehow. Only when all of you are together at the playground of your choice, maybe neatly perched on a velvet cushion or a three-legged-bar stool, will those various ideas of what might be the ultimate pleasure principle arise and rear it's ugly head. Which - let us be completely honest here - basically means only one thing: You will get wasted and turn into a grunting idiot, a whiney kid, a stubborn little boy, a selfish prick, a narcissistic diva or a melodramatic asshole! Choose either and be assured that your friends will make up the rest of that truly eclectic bunch.
My point is … and I do have one: You are bound to crash some hopes and dreams you once had and make some enemies along the way - especially when you are partying at your playground. But then again, we all have one thing in common at this place and therein lies the beauty of friendship/addiction/desperation: Craving the joy and happiness and unabashed excitement we used to have as a child is what we yearn for all week, hence we do everything in our power to revitalize said feeling. Just try and remember; Wasn’t it great back in the days of that silly childhood when a simple puppet made out of a sock was all we needed to feel entertained and overcome with laughter? It didn’t need much to get us all riled up, right? No fancy gadget, no electronic thingy, no overpriced whatever - just some good old-fashioned mindless get together of friends was all we needed to keep us occupied and happy! Slight alterations are, of course, important. If you hit your thirties (or worse, forties), you just need to adjust. Sock puppets won't get the crowd ecstatic anymore, believe me, I tried. But that same kind of simplicity is what makes it all the more adventurous to be creative these days. A couple if vodka shots will do the rest anyways.
Now, I demand that we all just let our inner child out of the cage again (at least from friday to sunday) because when we were young, e.g. kids, we did not care too much and just lived for the moment. Life did not seem like a neverending nightmare at all - those were the good times: so let us reclaim them. Also, most of us were cute and super-stylish - at least I was, really, I’ll post a pic - and a nice look might help when age hits you hard in the face. Anyway, regain what is rightfully ours and worry no more.
In conclusion I want my playground to be a gathering of like-minded people, carefree behavior and a place without shame or regrets. I want to feel like the boy I once was ... 
But please, don‘t bring actual children or better yet, don‘t have any of your own in the first place. Those little motherfuckers are sure as hell disturbing, nerve-wrecking creatures and kill your hard earned (and paid for) buzz straight away. And we are old, so time is precious ... 


Love It! Who needs someone anyways?

We all know that the main ingredient two humans need to get attracted to each other (and possibly fall madly in love) is, you guessed it, mutual interests they have to share. 
By the way, sometimes couplings can be made up of more than two persons, but for simple logistics we‘ll leave the experimental stuff aside for now and concentrate on the conventional pairing of two boys, two girls …ahhh, what the hell, even a boy and a girl will do get our pint across. I am feeling a bit open-minded today, so feel free to broaden your horizon as well.

Now, assume you meet at a bar, on the street or while cruising around at an airport. What we instantly look for is, of course, an attractive shell. But once we notice if someone is good-looking (and by God, some people have a real interesting view on what they consider pretty or gorgeous - believe me, I‘ve seen the most hideous creatures and someone was actually dating them, nevertheless pleasuring them as well ... disgusting stuff), we have to dig a little bit deeper. A handsome face can only hold your attention for so long and that means: not very long. There has to be more than meets the eye to make a lasting impression. If we get past appearances, we might want to look for conversational skills, humour, deep thoughts, wisdom in general, an ability to reflect  oh what the fuck, a brain must be attached to that smoldering fierce boy/girl/he/she/it you desire, that struts along your way.

Through the years we have learned to be happy with crumbles of intellect. 
Someone can spell their name correct? Count us horny enough to start a three year relationship. It‘s the small things that matter, though not entirely `small` we secretly pray all along while desperately searching for a better person to do the nasty with.
According to our internalized categories that will/and/or/have to make this one special and one of a kind, we get blinsided by what's actually important: the above mentioned mutual interests and things that you can laugh, cry, debate, argue about, after that first flickering flame of desire and passion has long been vanished. 
Sexual tension, just to make that perfectly clear for those in utter denial, will NOT last an eternity! Just accept that you will - sooner rather than later - loose interest in any bedroom shenanigans with the person you spend your time with e.g. the one you are supposed to love and cherish and cuddle with and blablabla. 
But worry not, this is absolutely normal, in fact it is vital to build upon the more interesting and exciting parts of your future relationship: the one you want to have staying power for once. And by the way: nobody said anything about not getting your groove on with someone else to release that tension in your loins, right?!

Humans tend to look around for a partner as if it were the holy grail not to be missed. And while doing so we - the love hungry idiots we are - have a clear vision of what that special someone has to be like and mostly fall into the trap of mentioning what a possible spouse unfortunately doesn’t offer to make it last. 
Sure, it is always easier to point out shortcomings instead of the achievements and distinctive features that one might possess. But this will not make it any easier - in fact, you will only get bitter and lonely and become a desperate fool for love, constantly whining and complaining and being a fucking mess that NOBODY wants to get close to. That is a fact and you are welcome to look it up or double-check it in any encyclopedia. Go ahead.
For those who are here to learn a thing or two, I give you this advice (it's free, so just take it): Dear readers, because I am an expert in criticizing everything, everyone and my mother (it’s genetic, I can’t help it), I'll tell you: in this day and age it is increasingly difficult to amaze and do something no one has ever done or shown before. And in order to surprise and stand out from the rest, a person must be creative and unconventional. They probably have to do the Conga in a grocery store while simultaneously serving freshly baked cupcakes filled with gold-sprinkled cherries and recite Shakespeare in ten different languages, all the while being dressed in an outrageous and shimmering Star Trek fleet outfit. If they can teleport me/you from A to B for the price of a simple smile, well, me/you would be eternally smitten and we would reduce ourselves to be their sex kittens, asap. 
But this is only a fantasy and will surely never happen so you need to learn learned to let go of expectations and requirements. Those only lead to disappointment and you will end a up a bitter queen.

In conclusion: Suck it up, stop dreaming and erase those perfect relationship ideas. 
You only get what you give. So take a long, hard and good look in the mirror and ask yourself: who the fuck would like to spend the rest of their miserable life with someone as pathetic as you are, huh? 
That most likely will do the trick of getting you firmly and quickly seated back into reality. 

And one last advice, from one friend to another: Stop moaning, weeping and complaining too much as of now! It is the single most unatrractive trait one can inhabit and therefore will not, I repeat, WILL NOT GET YOU LAID, EVER!!!!!! 
That's just the nature of the game and if you unleash the beast you are bound to get bitten (wow, I just threw up in my mouth reading that last line … but for the sake of entertainment, I’ll leave it for you to chew on). 
Good luck.


Suck It!

'Laws are like sausages, it is better not to see them being made.'

'When you want to fool the world, tell the truth.'

Otto von Bismarck


Learn It! Who run the world? Ageism in Popculture.

For women, getting older, is not only a struggle - it is a death sentence. 

Anonymous (or any given so-called music critic) said:
'Someone like Madonna should just retire ... she is old, ugly and disgusting. Grandma is way past her prime ... I mean, honestly, she is freaking 55  yrs. old! She constantly describes herself as a girl. A GIRL! - frankly, the audacity of that old hag is sickening and I refuse to take that dinosaur serious.'

A response by mommasboy was unavoidable:
'Well, I just realized that my own dear mother is going to turn 63 this year and I'm sad because - according to those anonymous wise men (and women apparently/ or noble music critics to be fair) - well, I'm going to have to abandon my Momma as well. 
It's a sad thing when women get old and you are practically forced to forget about all of the incredible things they have done for you and shove them in the basement to hide their hideous corpse-like appearance from mankind. As they tragically aged, their boobs have become saggy and gross. They should not be considered a sexual being or someone deserving to live among us. It's so depressing, but Momma, just like that Madonna Girl, is a walking dead dead creature. Or so I am told by these intelligent human beings who tell us what to think/like/believe and regard as good, bad or outright dated.
It is just part of human nature I suppose and having a love for high, full, well-rounded breasts, flawless skin and youth, we all have to come to terms that not only the Queen of Pop is to be ignored and showered with hate and pity for, well, breathing. No, every woman that does not conform to social standards (you know, the ones back from 1961) and starts knitting socks and dress in a potato sack is to be frowned upon and branded as a 'desperate, youth fanatic and delusional lunatic'. 
Forgive me Momma! Je suis désolé, Madonna!

Though I will rebel and align myself with the bourgeoisie and I am giving Madonna until the age of 65 before I will shove her into oblivion because, quite frankly, she has preserved herself way better than my mother could ever dream of.
My mother has wrinkles and, to be absolutely honest, it's freakin' nasty and it makes me sick to even look at her. Women and old age, we are constantly reassured thanks to those media outlets and critics (who, by the way, are all gorgeous, sexy, 22 years of age and altogether breathtaking to look at) - is something to be afraid of.
You have been warned!'


Fear It! Der Kettensatz

public service announcement:

Mein unbändiger Drang immer das auszusprechen was ich dachte, fühlte und machen wollte bzw. von anderen denke, erwarte und einfordere brachte mich nach Jahren der sozialen Ausgrenzung zu der Erkenntnis doch mal einen Filter zwischen Kopf und Stimmbänder einzubauen, denn würde ich weiterhin ohne Umschweife meine Meinung jedem an den Kopf schleudern, nun, ich hätte wohl keinerlei Freunde, Freude und Frohsinn und im Restaurant käme ich nicht einmal über die Bestellung des Aperitifs hinaus und daher sehe ich ein, dass es durchaus sinnvoll - ja geradezu überlebensnotwendig und neben dem seelischen Wohl auch das körperliche profitieren würde - sich hin und wieder die Zunge blutig zu beißen, nix zu sagen, Gedanken und Überlegungen gewissenhaft zu ignorieren und schlicht und einfach und ohne Umschweife


Wer suchet, der findet - aber erstmal muss man auch gesucht werden.


Suck It!

'I'd wish you luck,
but there is no such thing to be found.'

random pearls of wisdom


Learn It!

'When in doubt,
make every business count.'



Suck It!

'Sometimes I sing and dance around 
the house in my underwear. 
Doesn't make me Madonna. 
Never will.'

Cyn from Working Girl


Suck It!

'Es gibt kein richtiges Leben im falschen.'
Theodor W. Adorno