Saturday night finds me not so inclined to venture out to the chilly Tampa streets. I am content to allow my laptop to slowly roast my sperm to death on my lap while listening to the Music Choice Jazz channel.

I realized that the name of this blog is misspelled not to long ago when my Chef friend was making a dry spice rub(Turmeric). I was less disturbed by this, and more so by the fact that no one else has mentioned it.

I have this insatiable hunger for data, as I was computer savvy at a young age. I was among the earliest of Google adapters, and am an extreme utilizer of social networking. Does no one else seek instant knowledge gratification, or learn about new things like they are rubies in the Sahara? I remember the age of x486 architecture and Grolier’s encyclopedia on like 12 cds?. I suppose this has much to do with my women issue.

Watching this Californication show on Showtime with my friend revealed an oft discussed dichotomy between us regarding our feelings toward the opposite sex. I love women, I like to be around them, I like to look at them and talk to them. I can appreciate beauty in all of them. I believe my friend hates them. Not in the literal since but more the psychological sense. There are certain traits however that I just can’t stand to see in them. Not to digress to deeply.

When we were chatting this afternoon relating this to the dating scene. My friend is very successful at opening up a conversation with a group of girl strangers, whereas I am less inclined. In seconds their smiles are stretching their faces and any onlooker would notice developing what more often than not I would call intrigue. He can usually carry on this charade of clever banter and sarcasm until such point when the marks usually begin to complement the discussion, where I come in.

I am great at carrying the bulk load of conversation, I posses a cornucopia of information about almost everything(worthless), and I am readily able to participate in discourse on any subject. I can be Mr. Right, Mr. Right Now, or just asshole, my usual visage.

The point of all this is that I lose interest quickly, because no one really wants to engage in small talk, who cares about your job or where you take your long walks. No one intrigues me lately, so I just scurry off. Herein lies the issue with my initiating conversation. Being the planner and futurist that I am, I foresee the pointlessness of the whole interaction and justify just watching.

So we discussed this afternoon how this applies in greater detail, how every one of my female encounters has been me just selecting what comes my way, rather than going out to get what I really want. I’m more a scavenger than a hunter was the comment. I attribute this to the fact that I believe the rules of the game are not equivalent to the absence of rules on the Serengeti. I’m talking about the jungle, where I have been favored by evolution and could command greater selection based upon my superior traits. Alas, this is the way the world works. Socioeconomic factors take precedence to your ability to club and spear better than your competitor.

I suppose I’ll have to start hunting.