Rob at 30, Part 2 (6-10)

I bleed for America. I bleed for stupidity. I bleed for hot girls. I will always bleed for you.

6. Most every personal e-mail address or IM screen name I possess contains "paroles". Over the years when I've had to provide my personal e-mail address for anything, I've always received a funny look or a question about my criminal background. There are times when I wish I'd never picked it because of the sheer annoyance in having to explain that it has nothing to do with my disciplinary record. So what is "paroles"? "Paroles" or--as it is alternately spelled--"Parolles" is the name of an obscure Shakespearean character from "All's Well That Ends Well".
I was fifteen years old when my family first got internet access at home and it came in the form of the sweet 28K speed of America Online. When we first signed up, we had to each pick our own screen names. This was at a point in my life where I was "into" Shakespeare and I was determined to find a character of his to use as my screen name that wouldn't require numbers to be added. I didn't want to be Hamlet939485485. I wanted to be the FIRST. Now believe it or not, I had not been the first to come up with this bit because I spent hours searching for said name type to no avail. Finally, I came across "Paroles" and no one had selected him (gee, I wonder why?), so I decided to read some of his lines from the play. And what I found was pure gold. A moment for literary discovery, Children? Take note of this exchange between Paroles and Helena:

PAROLES

Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't!

HELENA

I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.

PAROLES

There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself and should be buried in highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the principal itself not much the worse: away with 't!

HELENA

How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?

PAROLES

Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it?

One might imagine how these words might resonate with horny, fifteen year-old virgin Rob. And thus, "Paroles" was born. I was sure this might somehow come in handy one day if I needed to make a proper "argument" to get some girl to fuck me. But as is usually the case, most people can read Shakespeare--but only a select few can pull it off in any sort of useful way. I am not one of the select few. Inspiring words though, nonetheless.

7. I am not the sort of douchebag that would subscribe to Maxim. However, since a couple of my friends purchased a subscription for me last Christmas, I apparently am the sort of douchebag who reads Maxim. I mean, it shows up every month. What do you want me to do? Toss it? That wouldn't be nice. And there's always a girl on the cover. A hot girl. And you know she's looking at me with those eyes that say, "You wouldn't throw me away, would you, Rob? Because I would totally blow you if we met. I swear." I mean, what kind of heartless bastard would I be if I turned my back on imaginary heartfelt emotion from beautiful, intelligent, deep women like the ones on the cover of Maxim? I mean, if you want the terrorists to win, fine. But I love and support the troops too much to ever forget 9/11. So...um...why don't you just leave me alone? Commie. Go back to France.

8. Since Maxim is a "read at home alone" type of magazine, my publication of choice lately on the airplane is Esquire. Esquire is a well-written, stylish men's magazine that has great articles about a variety of things beyond just how to get laid (though isn't that what pretty much EVERY magazine is eventually getting at anyway?). So I was reading it the other day and I saw this girl and my pants nearly went KABLOOOOEY on the airplane--in a sincere, noble sort of way, of course:

Her name is Christina Hendricks and apparently she's on Mad Men. On an unrelated note, I will be renting Mad Men very, very, real, real soon. I'm told by a friend that she's a real mean bitch on the show (ironically, that friend is this girl who is also red-headed, hot and kinda mean herself). That has always been my weakness, friends. Bitchyhot. Bitchyhot gets me every time.

9. I have traveled over 26,000 miles for work this year and over 35,000 since I took this job. In that time, I've been to more airports than I can count and plugged my computer into outlets all over this country. My computer power cord is a dirty, filthy man-whore who probably has laptop AIDS by now.

10. I was encouraged by the results of the last poll, seeing as how four of you voted that you "had and wanted to again" and THREE of you said you'd let me watch you with another woman (I pray that all three of you are girls). However, I'm equally discouraged that these stupid poll results are anonymous and I can't do a damn thing about it. Oh well, I'm sure I can find more productive things to do with my time than to get laid by one of you or watch you with another chick. Yep, I'm sure of it. And don't even bother trying to change my mind about that. I mean, I'm sure you probably aren't any good at it anyway and trying to convince me otherwise is futile. I doubt you could even get me turned on anymore. So yeah, take that. I mean, if you're in town and you want to try I guess I could consider humoring you but I'm like SOOOO busy. Can't make any promises. Nope.