Thursday, November 13, 2014

Man Shaming

The other day I discovered a new trend that seems to be going around on the Internet. I know, when isn't something trending on the web, right? Anyways, this particular trend kinda got to me. It struck a nerve. It felt like a low blow. It angered me.

Now before we passionately delve into discussion on this topic with gusto, I think I should make one thing clear right now. I am not some anti-feminist looking to raise hell, hating on women, and gearing up for some movement. But I will say this, there are some dumb ass women out there giving you girls a bad name. That bad name, more often than not, when applied directly, comes out the mouth as none other than "bitch".

Now ladies, don't you get your panties in a wad. I know you're all just sitting there saying "Did he just call me a....?"

No. No, I did not.

Just some of you.

Back to the trend. They are calling it "social experiments". I, on the other hand, just call it what it shaming. I encountered this video where a girl pretends to be drunk in public and is seeking help getting home. Keep in mind this girl is smoking hot and suggestively dressed in a tiny summer dress. I'm sure you can imagine how it went down. Please watch the video and see for yourself.....It's okay, I'll wait.

Now as a man, after viewing that I was offended. Why? Well let's start, the bitch set out for the sole purpose of soliciting such behavior. I mean really, you're going to get what you're asking for. Now you tell me, as a guy, if a girl that hot stumbles up to you, demanding your attention, are you not going to be like "Damn girl! You fine!" and possibly make a pass at her?

No, she got exactly what she was after. It could very well have been staged as well. There was an instance or 2 where watching by-standers had their phones out, as if ready to call the cops. So what, you say? What's the big deal? Well the big deal is this...they had their phones out ready to call the police because what they were witnessing is not normal. Just think about it. They are in Hollywood, the slum capitol of the world, those people are used to seeing some of the strangest behavior. What they saw could be something that just doesn't happen, it simply isn't normal. Why else would they have their phones out ready to call the cops for a guy hitting on a girl? Just some food for thought.

Another thing that irks me is how the video is edited, as if only showing the ones where she gets hit on. She was there all day putting on the same act, where are the ones who were sincerely trying to help her find the bus? You damn well know that there were some people who didn't show the predatory behavior that she was seeking. Where were all those people? If this is indeed a social experiment, then by all means, I beg you, please show us the facts so that we can make the comparison as to how many men, out of all the men who was encountered, demonstrated the predatory behavior.

Bitch, puhleeaase! You ain't fooling nobody!

And then there was another video I came across, which actually precedes the above video. Both videos have gone viral, by the way, which comes as no surprise being that stirring the pot on social and human rights issues is the new American way. In the next video a woman goes out to record cat calls, men hooting and hollering as she walks by. And where does she go to solicit these cat calls? Why it's in the streets of Manhattan, New York, of course! Now that itself is laughable! Go ahead and watch. Again, I'll wait...

Gee, let's just place ourselves among the thugs and  gangs and then cry about street harassment! In my opinion, most of those men were giving her compliments, telling her "God bless" and "have a nice day". How dare those men behave like such monsters!

But what these bitches fail to realize is that the roles could easily be reversed. Yep. Any man, with the proper editing tools and the proper environmental setting, can go make a video demonstrating just how cruel women can be, making them out to be the cold-hearted bitches that they are. And to prove it, I conducted an experiment of my own.

I decided to go to the local Walmart parking lot, pretending to be drunk and in need of a ride home. The results of the experiment went just as expected. Observe....

You see how easy it was to turn the tables on the women? They are very rude, damn near psychotic towards the kindest and most sincere men. Take that, bitches!

I just want to know the motive behind all this. What do they hope to accomplish? Why do they want to make all men out to be horrible people? Is it because they had a bad experience with a man, thus making ALL men monsters by default? Can one bad man really ruin it for us all?

In order for the human race to survive, man and woman must co-exist and procreate. It makes me wonder if this war on men is part of an elaborate scheme to bring this world to an end.

***Breaking news***
Women of the world have boycotted all men. All couples have separated and nobody is having sex. Scientists predict that without any new life being born, the last of the human race will die off in approximately 93 years.

Maybe these women are just bored. Maybe they are just looking for something to fight for. I don't know what exactly, being that the women's rights movement has been over for a long time. It's over ladies, you won. You can stop fighting now. If it's a fight you want, fight Washington. They're the ones tearing down society.

Or maybe, just maybe, this all ties into the PC craze that's still in full force, and growing stronger. Maybe it's a political ploy. It could be another distraction, planted into the minds of women, to keep the nation fighting amongst ourselves, keeping us divided.

It doesn't matter what the reason is, really. I just want it to stop. Not all men are the predators these videos make us out to be. We already knew that there are some bad people out there. Don't act so surprised to actually get the behavior that you, yourself, set out to solicit. I'm talking to you, fake girl! You're fake drunkenness and your fake boobies ain't fooling anybody.

Let this be a future lesson for men. When you're out in public and a drunk girl comes up to you, don't fall for it!
Never mind that the girl is drop-dead gorgeous. Forget the fact that it is wired into your DNA to mate with beautiful women. According to the videos it is not OK to try to get with a girl that you find attractive. Primal instincts must be discarded. Approaching women is forbidden.

I find this whole ordeal to be entirely absurd. These women have gone too far. Whether they are pushing some agenda or are just seeking publicity, they have crossed the line. And now people all across the nation are in an uproar. Are you happy with yourselves now, ladies?

We have made our stance. Chalk one up for the guys! Your move, bitches!

*end rant*

I am Workingdan and I have spoken.

The first video has been made private. Aparently the makers of the video couldn't handle all the bad publicity it was getting. Try this one...

This video was published by the same people of the first, only it has been retitled as "Drunk girl in public prank!!!

This confirms all suspicions that this was staged. It only goes to show how low some women will go in order to label all men as pigs.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Dog Eat Dog; Based on a True Story

I want you all to get re-acquainted with this dog so I'm posting an old story, a Workingdan classic. There are updates regarding the fate of this dog which I haven't had time to write up yet. Please enjoy...again (for some of you)

Blake wasn't always a stray dog. He once had a home and a family with kids and other pets to play with. There was a lot of love in that household, at least for the first couple years. As he would wander about, searching for his next meal, he often would think of those times and he would miss it. And every time he thought of those happy memories wrath would swell up inside him. He was angry at what led him to where he was today... a stray dog, abandoned and left in the middle of nowhere.

And even though he was angry, deep down Blake always hoped that one day he would find his way home. He could forgive them if he could just come home. Anything was better than living on the streets. Even the thought of how terrible things were just before they dropped him off on a county road in the middle of nowhere was more welcome than being a nobody's dog. 

Blake still can't understand how this came to be. There was so much love in that family, he just couldn't understand why such good people would do this to him. He spent countless hours contemplating on where he went wrong. Or was it his masters who went wrong? He longed to know.

Blake was born the biggest of the litter, a stout little fellow, solid and heavy. He always used it to his advantage, bullying his way to front of the pack, taking more than his fair share. He knew how to throw his weight around, knocking the other pups down to be the first in line. He carried most of his weight in his rear end and he would swing it out like a little wrecking ball to plow his way through whatever stood in his way.

Blake was also an incredibly cute puppy and he knew it, giving him an even greater advantage over the rest of the litter. When potential owners came to visit they picked him up first, not because he bullies his way to the front but because he was so stinking cute. He was the top dog and he knew it. And pride washed over him.

When he at last was taken to a knew home he was greeted by another dog who had already been with the family for seven years. There was also 2 kids to play with and 2 cats to torment. But one thing he quickly realized was how he had to compete for attention. Jonesy, the other dog who had already established himself as the top dog in the house, seemed to get the most attention. Blake envied the veteran dog at how much attention he got.

Boredom set in as he got little attention so he would spend his time eating and laying around. And he continued to gain more weight, and it still went to his rear end. There would be times when the kids would want to play with him and play he would but he would quickly grow tired and he would flop on the floor in the middle of playing and take a nap. Oftentimes his movements would be slow and meticulous, like that of a sloth. When they called his name he would only raise his head and stare instead of coming to them.

And he ate some more. Blake felt that if Jonesy is to get all the attention then he is to get all the food. If there was food in the dish, he would eat it. If there was water in the bowl he drank it. Blake then thought while he's at it he should eat the cat's food too. If he could starve them out he would be the top dog again. His greed for all the food would cause fights with the other animals whenever their masters put food in the dish.

And the dog grew some more, still packing all the weight in the trunk. "Move it you fat ass!" or "Get off me you fat fuck!" were words commonly used by his masters towards him. He liked the attention though and so he would always flop on his masters just so they would yell at him and push him off. But they soon grew accustomed to his weight laying on them so he had to find a new way to get attention.

A dog has needs but the only females in the house were either feline or human and so his only option was to hump Jonesy. He was male but at least he was a dog. This served as a double bonus because he could fulfill his doggy needs while venting his frustration on the dog he both admired and despised. It was awkward and not very satisfying at first but he soon had a lust for Jonesy and would hump him whenever he came near.

But the excitement would wear off as it often does with any relationship and Blake grew bored of Jonesy. He continued to seek the attention of his masters so he would dig through the trash and make a mess. They would smack his fat ass and throw him outside. It hurt at first but after a while he began to like it. He was a real glutton for punishment. But his owners wised up and put the trashcan behind closed doors and so the attention came to an end.

He then took to humping the cats to pass the time until a new way to get attention came along. Humping the cats did get him a little bit. "Blake! You sick fucking dog! Stop it!" his owners would yell just before kicking him away from the cats. But the abuse just wasn't the same. His owners didn't seem to be too angry with him since he wasn't making a mess.

Blake thought that if the adults won't give him what he wants maybe the kids will. He tried to chew up their their toys to make them angry with him. This plan backfired however, as the kids seemed to have more toys than they know what to do with and so they didn't mind donating a few toys for him to chew on. He had to find new ways to make a mess.

Chewing toys just wasn't cutting it so he chewed on other things like dishes or other various household items he could get his paws on.

Blake took his attention-seeking methods to a whole new level when he began hiking his leg and urinating in various spaces in the house. He figured while he was at he would leave land mines in strategic spots, insuring detonation by any non-suspecting victims. This enraged his owners and they would rub his nose in it, smack his fat ass, and throw him outside. And it was good.

Blake especially liked it when it was the man of the house who would carry out the punishment, for it was he who hit the hardest. Sometimes Blake would growl and bite at him to anger him even more and solicit a few bonus kicks, and every time he kicked him his foot landed true on the dog's fat ass. Sometimes his master would kick him all the way out the door. And Blake loved every second of it.

Blake liked to milk things for what they were worth. When he was outside he would scratch at the back door, signifying he was ready to come in. But when they opened the door to let him in he would just sit there and blankly stare at him. They would gently call for him, "Come here Blake! Come on boy!" and he remained still, staring. They would then grab a bag of treats and shake it at him to try to lure him in and still he did not budge. Then they would then change their tone and yell at him "Dammit Blake! Get inside now! Go! Move it you fucking fat ass!" and still the dog held his blank stare. Finally they would step out to manually escort him inside and Blake would lay down on his back. The scooted him along with their feet, subtle at first but then more aggressively as he offered up more resistance. Blake's favorite part was that one final kick that would send him spinning across the kitchen floor.

Blake missed that family, the abuse. He still couldn't believe they had dumped him though. They just didn't seem like those kind of people. He often heard them talk about getting rid of him and every time they had that conversation he heard them say "If we get rid of Blake we gotta make sure he goes to a good home, where he will get attention." It just didn't make sense to Blake and it left him searching for answers.

And then one day those answers came. It happened while he was nosing through a bag of Taco Bell he found on the side of the road. A white car was approaching so he cautiously moved to the side to wait for it to pass. It was coming slow at first but then when it got closer it sped up and swerved towards him. Blake jumped out of the way, narrowly escaping death. As the car sped away he got a good look at the bumper and the sticker that was on it. It read: "IF REDNECKS GET DIVORCED ARE THEY STILL SIBLINGS?"

In the car's wake Blake caught a familiar scent and instinctively began to chase after the car. It was a funky odor that he knew he had smelled before, but from where he could not remember. All he knew was that he didn't like that smell. There was no way he could keep up with the car but still he tried. And then all of a sudden it hit him. He remembered where he knew that smell from, it was those fucking neighbors, the ones who had painted him.

And then he remembered that it was them who dumped him in the middle of nowhere, not his owners. Images flashed through his mind as he recalled the day he was lost. The bumper sticker on the car that he had read as he was pissing on the bumper, the neighbors coming at him with a bag and scooping him up, being violently tossed into the car and then later getting thrown from the car while it was still moving, the countless hours he spent in a ditch trying to escape from the bag.

Anger swelled inside of Blake when he remembered was those bastards had done to him and he ran even faster, keeping the car in his sight. He knew there was no way he could catch up to the car but still he ran, fueled by rage. He was giving up hope when the car was now a couple miles ahead of him, fading in the distance, about to go over a hill to disappear forever. Then all of a sudden it seemed to turn into a driveway, just before the hill. With hope restored, Blake ran hard, like never before.

At last he came to the driveway, and sure enough there the car was, parked near a trailer that had seen better days, surrounded by trash and overgrown weeds and grass. Blake came to a stop to plan his next move. Then he noticed there was something familiar with his surroundings. He looked around some more and then he saw it, his home. He was so focused on catching the car that he simply didn't noticed that he ran right past his home.

Blake's heart was lifted and he let out a bark of relief. He dismissed his pursuit of the car, their time was coming, but for now he had a family to reunite with. He ran to the back door and scratched it, just like he used to. The door opened and there stood his master. With his tail wagging furiously, Blake sat and blankly stared at him. It was good to be home.

*disclaimer* We do not abuse our dogs nor do we endorse the abuse of any animal. Parts of this story are fictionalized for dramatic effect.

Thank you for reading. Please stay tuned for updates regarding this cute and lovable dumb-ass dog.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Spark Plug

Workingdan...the star of the show, my alter ego, the main character on this blog, it's all about him, me. He is basically a translation of my own life. An outlet. He is a documentation of my own thoughts, feelings, or actions. He is a representation of my own life experiences, with some douchebaggery mixed in for entertainment purposes. He is me. I am him. We are one. We are.....Workingdan. 

photo courtesy

So where did the idea of Workingdan come from? It could be as simple as me being a blue collar working man whose name is Dan, standing up against the hardships that folks like myself must endure to survive. Or perhaps Workingdan means a little bit more? 

Maybe he was a calling. I got this urge to just write. I didn't want to write a novel or anything of significance. I always enjoyed writing, whether it was writing a story for school or writing letters, I enjoyed it and took pride in it. I never really practiced it, other than some mushy letters to high school girlfriends. 

And so Workingdan was born. I had found a place to come where I could just write. Again, I had no direction, no purpose to my writing, no topic, nothing. I started out writing about work, and every day reasons why people hate their jobs. As I made my way around the blogosphere I became full of ideas. I got away from writing about work and just started writing whatever came to mind. I started drawing cartoons. I got vulgar. I got personal. My popularity grew. I had a large following and was well known around the Internet. Times were great and I was having a blast. Nothing beats a good rant!

All the while I was searching for a specific angle. I was always looking to become a professional on a single topic and land some dream writing gig. It became work trying to find that niche, I lost interest and, for the most part, vanished from the blog world. As an attempt keep this blog alive and maintain what following I had left, I posted sporadically and poked my head out every now and then. I tried taking on politics and all things conspiracy, with perhaps a mix of religion. 

That, too, became tiresome. I was trying to be a professional writer on topics that are beyond my understanding. I'm no politician. Who in the hell knows politics? Every time you blink, laws are changing, and they're changing in the wrong direction. To me, when I look at a room full of politicians I see a troop of monkeys trying to fuck a football, and only for the sake of your vote, nothing else. 

source (is it me or does this resemble a certain political leader?)

It then dawned on me. Since I am no politician, nor am I a priest, the answer was simple...just go back to being me. There are no rules here. I write what I want, when I want, and however the fuck I want to write it. If I want to write about me then I'll write about me because nobody does me like I do. If I want to do a comic then by God a comic it will be. If I want to troll I'll troll and I won't care who or what it is. 

For those of you who are familiar with this blog you may have noticed an ever so small increase in activity lately. I feel this blog is calling back to me. Perhaps it is the social experience I miss, joking around with my readers, debating, or just shooting the shit. Whatever the reason, I just feel compelled  to maintain my presence and stay true to the Workingdan persona, whatever that may be. I have no  aspirations to be a published author, I just want to write and have an audience, even if it's just  a handful of people. 

I may post a diary entry. It could be a poem. It could be a small work of fiction or a comic. Who the hell knows? My brain feels like it needs to unload, maybe I want to get some things off my chest or just share my journey towards a better life. Whatever it is, I promise I will try my hardest to not be boring. 

I guess you could call this post a reintroduction to myself. A blog reborn. 

Hello, my name is Workingdan. I used to be an Internet bully, still might be one, but deep down I'm just a big teddy bear. I'm usually quite honest around here, but don't always take me seriously, if that makes any sense. I got a good sense of humor and I can rant with the best of them. I'm married with 2 kids and 40 is creeping up fast. 

My goal is to resume posting at least once a week, although I can't commit to that schedule at this time. I never was a fan of proper blog etiquette and didn't play by the rules. But I am thankful for every reader and so it is only common courtesy to return the favor. 

Whichever, I will return a visit to your web page. I solemnly swear. 

I will also respond to every comment so be sure to come back and check the comments because you just never know what I might say. I may call you a fucktard and you may never even know it. I don't know about you but that is something I would like to know so be sure to check often. I love online interaction so feel free to engage and carry on a conversation any time. 

Now that we have gotten acquainted, or re-acquainted, comments are now open. Your feedback and support is what keeps this blog going. 

Thank you and God bless! 

Now enjoy this video by Metallica!