Ask LOBO: Dating Edition

LOBO -Predator Press

Millions and millions of readers are always asking me every day, "LOBO, you've been married three times. Clearly you are amazing at relationships. Can you give me some dating tips?" My first impulse is to refuse -I'm currently on track for at least six marriages. Why would I dispense such potentially dangerous wisdom?

Well why not? I'm a sucker for logic.

#1) ALWAYS WEAR PANTS. I can't stress this enough. No matter what you've seen on the internet, not wearing pants should be saved for the fifth or sixth date.

#2) MAKE HER PAY. You need to be sure she isn't some kind of beady-eyed phsycho moocher. Beady-eyed psycho moochers are virtually unemployable.

#3) GET IN FRONT OF YOUR ASHLEY MADISON ACCOUNT LEAK. Distort your past with rumors like "That guy Jullian Assange kicked my puppy."

#4) SHAVE. When able, impress her with how fast you can swim.

#5) FILL CAR TRUNK WITH FIRST AID SUPPLIES. Women like security. How better to demonstrate you are fully prepared for the zombie apocalypse?

#6) PRETEND YOU HAVE FEELINGS. Women can be as mysterious and complex as they are wonderful, and "Feelings" seem to be at the very top of their interests. Someday one of us should really get to the bottom of it all.

#7) DON'T DATE RONDA ROUSEY. Sure, she's hot. But nothing spoils romance like ruptured kidneys, torn ligaments and spinal injuries.

#8) SERIOUSLY DON'T DATE RONDA ROUSEY. The human pelvis can only be rebuilt so many times.

#9) BE PREPARED TO DEAL WITH SOMEONE PAINFULLY OBLIVIOUS OF STAR WARS TRIVIA. If she don't know who TK421 is, the bitch might throw out your Bossk action figure. But on the upside, sound of drying vagina might stop for a few days.

#10) THE SEX ISN'T FANTASTIC -YOU ARE JUST FINALLY HAVING SEX.  Over a long enough timeline, gear up for changing the cat litter and trying to remember where you hid the porn.

Scorpion Kick

LOBO -Predator Press

Got some [really] bad advice a few years ago, and lost my anonymity by merging Facebook and Google.  Now, despite this being a fictional blog, everyone started superimposing their shit on what I write.  Co-workers I just met insist stories I wrote years before are based on them.  As a consequence of an errant Google search, a girl, concluding I must be the only "lobo" on the internet, asked me who "lobowife" was.

WTF?

It's really hard to create in circumstances like that.  It has accelerated divorces, caused issues at work, and really eroded my sense of humor in general.  I feel like I enjoyed a great, unrestrained run, and now I find myself burning calories making more and more explanations.  What was once a fun and cathartic adventure has me all too often comforting unnecessarily bruised egos.  Complicating matters is, yes, some scenarios are inspired by real life.  But what writer does not draw from experience?  With the anonymity removed, no matter how hard I cloud things, people will be able to "connect the dots."  Anchored at least partially in reality by yours truly, the accusations and allegations will never end.

This comes up now because I am sinking some major coin into my podcast project.  I just ordered microphones and the soundboard, and a suitable computer to run it.  The expensive software is daunting.  Thinking forward, it will only get worse: at some point I will need a formal studio built for the live feeds.  Hours of phone calls about the commercial applications and legalese that yield more questions than answers ... this is much more difficult than I ever guessed.

And I'm not complaining.  Seriously, I really enjoy it.  I haven't felt this engaged in something in over a decade.  But last night, poring over technical manuals, it occurred to me I was making all the same mistakes again.  If this thing succeeds, people will respond to the energy -and the wrong people will -at best inadvertently- work to fuck it up.  I've spent decades learning to accept and deal with my own faults and eccentricities, but nothing can prepare me to deal with everyone else's.

So I think I'm starting over.  A new blog, a podcast independent of my beloved Predator Press, a new nom de plume and "persona" altogether.  They can, after all, always be unified in the future, but I don't really see why they ever would at this point.

I'm excited at the idea of a 'reboot.'

Ghosts

LOBO -Predator Press

Work, travel, and life in general have really limited my ability to write this year. Many immolated themselves. Many jumped from tall buildings. Many immolated themselves, then jumped from tall buildings. But fear not, o loyal reader! Your beloved Alabaster Battlemaster has not been idle!

Piece by piece, recording studio equipment has been arriving back home, and the plan is to make Predator Press -at least in part- a podcast. This should include audio and visual components, and Skype interviews with our -and by "our" I mean "my"- favorite internet personalities.

If you still insist on immolating yourselves and/or jumping off of tall buildings in the meantime, please be tidy about it. This isn't all about you you know.

 Show some goddamn consideration.