When I first read Stickman
I became a Dana fan
His prettiest girls may be men
But you get that now and then
I haven’t earned my monger stripes
But I still long for Thailand nights
I don’t see myself as a particularly extravagant character but I like to identify with those who are. Fairly commonplace behaviour really since we are mostly all essentially narcissistic but afraid to stick out too much from the herd.
My personal identification aligns itself with Cracker the overweight, drinking, smoking and gambling sharp as chest pains psychologist. Tells you a fair bit about me. Sporting heroes bore me to tears but I think I understand the general adoration.
It's like the Free Paris T-shirts that young chicky babes wear. We all need heroes just like us but with bigger boobs.
My story has been told on here
And it's one I love to hear
Brokenman has told it best
He's more like me than the rest
So here's a theme that interests me
That I shall now expound to thee
The theme is
that of the fallen ‘hero’ and in my case it goes like this.
When I was a young boy I got some pretty young girls in my home town but when you're 17 or so that isn’t so hard because so are they. Then this nothing particularly special yahoo type country boy hits the big city and meets an
uptown girl with a figure better than Marilyn Monroe’s and gets her pregnant and because there are children he keeps her till the kids are teenagers. Then we got divorced at 40 and I took a trip to Thailand and experienced myself as still
the dude rancher I always considered myself to be regardless of the fact that I did not have the assets (big dick, hard body, wealth, charismatic personality etc.) that were supposedly what you needed to get a pretty girl. Regardless of this I
was still in the game but getting nervous about how much longer I would be. Then I had a relationship with a girl when I was 43 that fulfilled me and that exceeded even my expectations of what was possible for me. She was recently divorced from
a loveless and non-sexual marriage and wanting to make up for lost time which we did. She was also then a single mum and I wasn’t really up for this and it ended. It lasted 3 years. My Cracker qualities hastened the demise.
In all this I was aware of the fact that I had something of a lucky streak because I am now 48 and can very much identify with Brokenman and his internet and dating stories. My life has caught up with me. The promise that I always had and
that kept women interested did not materialise and I am in a no man's land. The drunken alkie type 40 plus year olds down the pub who pick up what they can on a Friday night do not interest me. They are my type in terms of lifestyle but not
in terms of intellect and yet they still long for a relationship that isn’t going to happen with me. I have nothing to inspire me to lift my game with these types. The ones who do interest me (intelligent and attractive) and who I could
have got at an earlier age seem to have shifted into some other space that I simply don’t belong in. They are aware of their pulling power and either go to the ‘best’ and wealthiest of us 50 year olds or opt for ten years
younger guys. I would find this shift to the younger man bizarre were it not for the fact that they are just female versions of myself.
The difference then tween them and me
Lies merely in geography
What they can get with simple smiles
I now must travel a thousand miles
What I want and what I now get are not meeting up. I am not quite as disappointed as Brokenman because I have had a few offers from the mid forties girls who are not fat but they just don’t turn me on much. All women and relationships
do come with certain demands and expectations and as I look back it seems I was prepared to at least try and play the game if I had a woman around who gave me the horn. Now that the only ones that do this I can’t get I have settled for
15 minutes of internet porn. Not good enough.
Unlike some of your readers who have no guilt about this preference for pretty (read younger usually) women I bloody well do. I wish I could grow up and mature gracefully but I don’t seem to be able to overcome simple biological reactions
even though my intellect and circumstances tell me it is time to do so and change my expectations. Alas, I took that first trip and now realise like all the others that 9 hours on an aeroplane and I am in a place where I am once again visible
and noticed by attractive women. Their motivation for noticing me does not especially concern me because on the whole they have treated me well. The feeling of personal power that this being noticed generates is especially desirable when one finds
they have lost it in their own milieu. This is the lost heroism. Maybe more Christ on a cracker than Christ on a cross heroic but I miss it.
So I suspect that mongerism will be my fate and while I don’t consider Thailand to be the source of eternal bliss I am aware that not only do the Thais smile but in response I begin to smile and I am a fairly dour character. Even just
writing about it gets a grin outta me as I start to remember those bizarre and surprising things that start to happen the moment one leaves the airport.
However the main purpose of this missive is that I want to establish myself in some way as a fellow contributor because I would like to meet some of characters who write these essays. I feel an enormous compatriotism with, and at times an
admiration for, many of the fellow stickbloggers I read on here. The secret Stickman handshake is a good idea. A sort of pole dancing movement I’d suggest.
I want to try and meet some of you characters next time I am in Thailand. The mateship between men of similar disposition is potentially more reliable than the meetings with the girls even if just at the simple level of hanging out in bars
together for company. I don’t have any problem meeting such types when I do go out in Thailand but never establish anything more than a buddy for the night situation. If I am going to be a regular to Thailand I would like to make your acquaintance.
I shall make some contributions and see what happens.
So here I sit in New South Wales
my life is dull bereft of tales
So on that plane I dream to be
A double happiness guarantee
But when experienced on my own
Its half of what it could be
Than if I had good company
Very nicely put together. And I am sure you will find many of the contributors to be most interesting characters. None more so than Dana, of course.