I Love Black Women

I love black women. They own me - literally.

I told this story today at work that everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy at my expense. For me, I laugh at the experience, but it's a laugh that's secretly riddled with pain and anguish. It all happened in the 5th grade when I was on the Merry-Go-Round. I was young, carefree, maybe even a little reckless. I was a champion 'red light/green light' player, and excellent at 'four corners.' Needless to say, those skills have translated to untold riches for me.

Anyway, it was was my rightful turn on the Merry-Go-Round, when I decided that I would take my rightful place and spin to my heart's content! It was a short-lived dream. I decided I would take my place by removing a gal by the name of 'Stephanie Smith'. (Nervous chuckle). We shoved back and forth a bit, as I wedged my way into her former section of the Merry-Go-Round. She pushed me off. I landed on my feet. I pushed her back and before I knew it, I saw a flurry of punches. I saw three, but felt twelve. You remember that scene in The Matrix when Agent Smith repeatedly punches Neo in the Subway. I was Neo.

I was on my butt before I knew it. But I will tell you, she outweighed me by at least 50 pounds, the hill was slanted in her favor, and the sun was in my eye. I will also tell you another thing, I was ready to unleash a world of pain if it hadn't been for that teacher who got in my way! I think I've gotten over it quite well. It was the last fight I've even been in. Emotionally, I'm a rock. So what? A girl got in a few lucky shots. It doesn't matter that she was black either. Who cares? It only happened 19 years, 3 months and five days ago.

But I will tell you this - if Condoleeza Rice were to run for President and told me to vote for her - I would do it.

Sincerely,

Kevin L.

The Silicon Valley Lover (Not Fighter)

P.S. Hey Stephanie, if you come across this blog post, I hope you're doing good! I miss you. You're so awesome. I don't live in Silicon Valley either, it's just fictional. Um, I live in Florida - bye.

The Cost of Bachelorhood

Being a bachelor is expensive stuff. Girls expect so much these days! A sit-down dinner, some form of transportation, fresh breath, a shower, and the list goes on! Where I draw the line is when they expect me to remember mundane details like what they do for a living and their interests. I mean, us bachelors already have to foot the bill for dinner, drinks, and schenanigans to entertain. (Although, my reporter friend Jessica, once had a guy take her out, and at the end of the meal, he put $10 on the table and said, 'here's my share' and then looked away! Classic! He also didn't get a second date.)

Anyways, because I once took a Statistics class in college and barely passed Geometry my 2nd time around in high school, I plan to honor my teachers by wowing the world with my math skills. I've decided to calculate the cost of being a bachelor using a complicated algorithm that I have submitted to the government to be patented. I call it the 'Alan Parsons Multiplication Project.'

First, I have decided that on average (if you're lucky), you'll spend about $100 on dinner a week taking out dates (that's one date a week, you cheapos). Secondly, as swinging bachelors, you have probably allotted two nights of the week to go out with your guy friends to potentially meet someone drunk enough to make the mistake of giving you their phone number. I have found this cost to be about $50 a night. Now this is where I make my teachers proud. You take that number and 'times' it by 2. And.... that.... number....... equals..... stalling..... (need more fingers)..... (good thing for toes).... it ... equals.... $100!!! Add that to the other $100 you spend for a dinner date and you're spending $200 a week.

Now to complete the 'Alan Parsons Multiplication Project,' you multiply $200 'times' 50 weeks (minus the weeks of Thankgiving and Christmas) and viola! You are spending $10,000 a year to be a bachelor!!!! That only leaves me with $2,000 leftover from my yearly paycheck for food, lodging, and necessities. Hmmmm, let's just say I make $11,200 for sh*ts and giggles, that means I have $100 a month to spend on lotto tickets and strippers!!!

This is not good.

Sincerely,
Kevin L.
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

P.S. Math sucks!

My Mom is Funny

My mom is the funniest person I know. She has been making me laugh all my life. Tonight, I was sitting at the table with my dad and she comes over to give me a kiss on the cheek and points at my dad and says, 'I love you more than him, because you have my blood and he doesn't' - and then proceeds to push him away even though he is sitting in a stationary spot, minding his own business.

She then said if I finished eating a pear, that I wouldn't have to pay my dad back for a $260 insurance payment. Yummy..... this is the best pear I've ever eaten in my life!

Sincerely,
Kevin L.
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

The Loosely Defined World of COUGARitaville

I like me a Cougar! They make you feel so good about yourself and treat you like a piece of meat. Well, with that fine piece of wisdom said, I just got back from a conference in Seattle and I always make time for my good friends at Call Genie. (To protect the innocent, their names have been changed). So Mark McCormell calls Cherie McMichaels a Cougar (can you guess which one she is above?). Cherie of course looks like she's 23, but in actuality is in her early 30s. She's dating a guy a couple of years younger, so I wondered whether the term 'Cougar' now has a broadened definition that encompasses any woman dating a younger man.

For the record, reliable sources (College Humor) have dubbed the definition of a cougar as:

Definition: A Cougar is a female, usually between thirty and fifty years-old, who enjoys the sexual company of younger men.

Breeding Habits: Cougars are only usually interested in men under the age of twenty-five. Also, Cougars are non-committal, choosing to move from mate to mate without ever settling down. It is not uncommon for the same Cougar to attack (sleep with) many different men in the same group of friends. Furthermore, Cougars are older and more practiced in the ways of snaring a mate so they will rarely broadcast their intentions to sleep with you until you are already in her Jetta, headed for the condo she just bought. It is this elusive behavior that earns her the name "Cougar."

Habitat: Cougars are most often found in bars and other places where alcohol is freely distributed. She can be seen lurking in the shadows, selecting their prey with the precision of a laser-guided missile. Most often, she will have some sort of fruity concoction with a high alcohol content in her hand (see: Appletini), and a slim cigarette dangling from her heavily made-up lips.

Appearance: The Cougar, at first, appears like most older women one sees: slightly drooping breasts, somewhat leathery skin, lightly sunken eyes and clothes just a few years behind the fashion. On closer inspection however, one finds that the Cougar has taken care to make herself appear younger: the makeup is thicker, the clothing is tighter and the perfume is stronger. She clearly has spent hours stuffing her not-18 anymore body into that leather skirt and halter top and desperation reflects that.

Psyche: The Cougar is a complex emotional creature. Remember, most of her friends are probably married and have kids by now. This, naturally, leaves her feeling lonely and useless, which explains her need for companionship. However, being an older woman, she is at the peak of her sexual ability which is why she preys on younger men (who are also at the peak of their sexual ability). This odd pairing -Cougar and twenty-three year old guy - can be seen at last call in bars all over the
country every weekend.

As I am well-impressed with the definition given, I'm going to go with it, but I would have to disagree with my friend Mark - Cherie does not reek of Cougarism. I'm going to say in order to be a Cougar, you have to have at least shown some signs of aging - to which Cherie hasn't. The term is thrown out there so much these days, I wonder if it is even offensive? I sure hope not. Cherie seemed ok with it. But inside, maybe she was fuming - who knows? Her coworker Jolie Mizerati then asked me whether she looked older than Cherie, to which I am no great fool. So using my razor sharp canine senses, I quickly said 'I don't know' and looked away.

Miss Jolie also informed me that if she didn't know me, she would hate me from reading my blog, citing evidence of cockiness! I argued adamantly that I am very self-deprecating, very humble, and would never, EVER tout my amazing virtues. Ridiculous..... And for the record, you DO look older than Cherie - B*TCH!!!!

Just kidding, hahaha, I am SOOOO funny. My next post will be about how funny I am.

Sincerely,
Kevin L.
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

P.S. I love you Jolie, you're my favorite - next to Mark and Cherie.

My Love for a Whale's Vagina

I recently returned to the town where I became a man. (Pause for Emphasis)

(I left some blank space for dramatic effect too). It's such a memorable time when you move away from home for the first time, learn to ignore bills that come in the mail, use your tuition money for food and booze, read textbooks over your classmates shoulders, wake up whenever you feel like it..... wait a second, ok, apparently my growth to manhood is not yet complete. Where was I? Ahh yes, returning to San Diego, greatest city in the history of mankind. Discovered by the Germans in 1904 - they named it San Diego - which of course, in German means, a Whale's Vagina. But don't take my word for it, who better to trust than Ron Burgundy?


Well, I hadn't been to a Whale's Vagina in a couple of years, and turns out - I REALLY missed it. I was there for my good friends, Ross and Channel's wedding, and met up with about 30 of my old college buddies. It was a freakin' blast. I ate Carne Asada Fries three times in 48 hours and if any of you know me, you'll know that I frequently ask friends to bring me Carne Asada Fries if they're coming from San Diego. (Note: No one has yet to take me up on the offer, probably because they think I'm joking, but I would never joke about something as serious as Carne Asada Fries. I love them.) Smothered in succulent, tender morsels of Carne Asada, topped with guacamole, sour cream, and gobs of heart-stopping cheese, I live to pour red salsa like only my three favorite Mexicans know how to make - Sr. Cotixan, Sr. Roberto, y Sr. Ramon. (Impressed with my 'y'? Don't forget, I took Spanish 1, three times in high school.)

Besides my Carne Asada Fries comas, a side note was the wedding that got in the way of eating my fries. I love those guys and gals I went to college with, it was like a reunion. And everytime I'd come out of my alochol-induced blackouts, it'd be like a reunion all over again. I avoided a near disaster when I almost dropped the groom's mom on her head while dancing. Luckily the table was there to cushion our fall. We had an awkward laugh about it during Sunday brunch - ahhh, good times.

After brunch, we headed over to Pacific Beach and hung out all day and hit balls back and forth using a paddle. I'm not sure what the game is called, but me and my friend Bryce really sucked. Of course we were drinking some weird concoction of booze in a thermos all day. I swear, we hit the same girl like 8 times with that red ball. Of course, it's always a great first line when you can go up to someone and say, "I'm sorry I keep hitting you with my balls."

Man, I really, REALLY didn't grow up.

Sincerely,
Kevin L.
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

8 Ways Silicon Valley is Taking it to "The Man"

There's little doubt that Silicon Valley has thrown the 'establishment' for a loop. Old media, like network television, radio, newspapers, Yellow Pages, are shaking in their boots as Silicon Valley startups innovate and capture the world's attention at a startling pace (and more importantly, taking advertising dollars with them). The problem with old media and the 'establishment' is that they come from old money and old money has old traditions. It's an exclusive society that moves at a snail's pace and doesn't welcome outsiders - their pulse on their audience comes from research firms. Fortunately, Silicon Valley has forced its way into the business lexicon.

As old media tries to revamp its online strategy and cut back on unnecessary expenses - like employee benefits and salaries - Silicon Valley is rewriting the book on employee morale and business etiquette. As a former 'old media' employee (I worked in local television news), and current start-up employee, the differences are less than transparent. Here's a list of ways Silicon Valley is rewriting the book:

1. Golf is dead - it used to be that business deals were sealed on the course. Nowadays, a Silicon Valley business deal can go down on the Wii! A few months ago, and this is no joke, a MerchantCircle deal was sealed over a few weeks of meetings playing Halo 3 and Call of Duty 4.

2. Too strong handshakes say 'I'm capable and solid, but I will never innovate' - I had a friend the other day who told me a guy shook her hand so hard, the ring on her finger left her with a welt! She was angry about this unnecessary handshake, which totally spells out, 'I'm old school.' I don't think anyone is impressed with strong, painful handshakes anymore. If you are, you're old. When shaking, go with firm and sturdy.

3. Put away the Tie - I've written about the death of my ties - too which I have some really, REALLY nice ones - but there's just no need. Recently, I went to a Yellow Pages Conference (the oldest of old media, especially in innovation) and even they were beginning to take heed, as over half the participants were tie-less. You will never find a tie at an internet conference. T-shirt, blazer - you're good to go.

4. 8am to 5pm? Only if she's 5'3' - OK, so that made no sense, but I had to pay tribute to Sir-Mix-a-Lot and his revolutionary ideas that mobilized a generation of thought - similar to Silicon Valley. Gone are the days when you had to be in the office at 8am. People are working their own hours as they fit their schedule and production best.

5. What you do matters - I suspect there are a ton of companies who have employees who don't ever get to see what they contribute to the end product. That's not the case with Silicon Valley companies - almost everyone has an integral part in their company and if you don't pull your weight, good luck trying to hide that from your coworkers.

6. Innovation and changing course happen everyday - Unlike George W., Silicon Valley analyzes situations and can reverse course and revamp strategy based on market conditions. This happens quickly and ideas and employees that don't work - are scrapped.

7. Alcohol is acceptable in the office - this was a crazy concept for me to get used to. You get fired for that kind of stuff in Old Media. I first heard about it from my buddy who works at EA, telling me that every Friday the company would roll out a few kegs and leave them out by the soccer field. At start-ups beer is a commonly stocked item in the refrigerator - and people celebrate at their own discretion.

8. Age is nothing but a number - no longer do kids fresh out of college or grad school have to waste years working as a peon trying to work their way up the corporate ladder - you want to be a VP of Business Development? Director of Marketing? You can be. Head to Silicon Valley, where people can make things happen without corporate bureacracy ageism, racism, or sexism. Now THAT is sexy.

Sincerely,
Kevin L.
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

Listen to the Woman... especially when it comes to Apt. 24

Here I am in my hotel room in LA at 3am writing this blog post - finished with my first wave of work. Rather than go to sleep, I thought of my blog and how therapeutic and relaxing it is for me to write. Thanks for humoring me and reading.

This last weekend I went to a place in San Francisco called Apartment 24, where the old Dolce used to be. Apparently it just reopened, and my good friend Vivian suggested I take my friend from Brazil there. Let me tell you, I have never seen such a disproportionate ratio in my life..... but here's the kicker: they were all FEMALE! I was like 'holy schnikes, what the heck is going on here?!?' I proceeded to bask in my good luck by buying all my friends Patron shots.

The odd thing about the plethora of women, was that I felt all awkward. I went out to the dance floor and literally had a girl to the left of me, to the right, behind - like 3 rows deep. I couldn't take it and I went back to the bar for more libations. I normally like to swoop in after the women have sized up all the other tools to realize that I'm a special tool. This abundance of women though, threw my game all out of whack.

The cool thing was, I felt no rush to hit on any girls because there were so many of them - so I really enjoyed the company of my friends, which I don't normally do. I learned so many great things about them - like their names, jobs, heck, my best friend even got married!! Man, friendship is grand I tell ya. So grand, by the time I assumed my rightful position on the dance floor, the ratio had went back to 60-40 male. Bastards!

So the lessons here? Forget about 'friends' - they suck. Go to a club early (I'd say 10:30, 11ish), don't let the opportunity pass you by, and hit on those hot girls before they leave - because you know hot, classy, respectable girls don't stay around past midnight. I don't know why, but it's probably because being a tool is one thing, but a drunk tool? Too much.

Also, if you're going to go to Apt. 24, go soon, because pretty soon it'll be filled with dudes and it'll be just like you're in San Jose again.

Sincerely,
Kevin L.

The Silicon Valley Bachelor

P.S. If a girl suggests you go somewhere: do it. If they like it, other girls probably like it too!