Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Tip #60: Mystique

This is a biggie! Maybe not in blog length or word-count, but rather in concept. A lot of all of the other tips to date, and even future ones, come into play in this particular tip.

Mystique...what is it? Well, according to the dictionary, it is plainly put as follows:

Mystique [mi-steek] -- Noun

1. a framework of doctrines, ideas, beliefs, or the like, constructed around a person or object, endowing the person or object with enhanced value or profound meaning: the mystique of Poe.
2. an aura of mystery or mystical power surrounding a particular occupation or pursuit: the mystique of nuclear science.

So, how does this apply to us romantic Goths? Simply put, the art of proper Gothic romance cannot exist or happen without a certain level of mystique! The two really do go hand in hand.

But, Sir William, you are now asking yourself, how do I, a simple and humble Goth individual, create mystique? Well...that is what we are here to discover and explore! First, as Goths we all automatically exude a certain dark air of mystery and intrigue by our manner of dress and demeanor alone...that is our basis for mystique...thus getting us already half way there, and we shall build from that.

The next thing to master is, what we French call, "Le Regard," (you don't pronounce the 'd') or "the gaze." We Goths know, all too well what this is...it is that feline-esque trick we do with our eyes that invokes a touch of evil, intrigue, danger, and sensuality all wrapped up in a single gaze. It is what magicians do to captivate and mesmerize their audiences. Le regard is the first and main ingredient for seduction that is rooted in primal animal instinct -- staring into an other's eyes to try to determine if they are friend or foe. If done without rapidly breaking out in a goofy smile, or slipping into the "crazy eyes" look, you will give off an air of mystery. But, just as important as giving someone le regard, is to also take it away! This confuses the other on a subliminal level, causing further intrigue. Soon after, when le regard is reinstated, it will be twice as potent, triggering a sense of "the hunt." The key thing to remember here is: too little of a gaze and you will seem weak and/or timid; too much and you will look like a serial killer out looking for his or her next slaughter. (I will have a full and in-depth tip about "le regard" at a later date.)

O.k., moving on...the next, and very important ingredient is a little something I can't seem to shut-up about throughout this entire blog: Planned Spontaneity! If you do not know what this is, please read Tip #8 before reading on...and shame on you for not having done so yet!
...go on, I'll wait...

All of you must view Planned Spontaneity as your wonderfully dirty little secret weapon that you rely on at any given moment and/or opportunity. It is a very powerful tool to have, yet you must, at all cost, make it seem completely effortless! In the past I have even applied this tactic so smoothly and quietly for someone that they felt as if all of the stars in the Universe aligned perfectly to make her feel as if the luckiest woman in the world...that everything was somehow going her way. The beauty of this is that I never took any credit for it, and to this day she still will never realize I was in the background pulling certain strings in her favor. Does it sound a bit manipulative? Maybe...but if the outcome is some one's bliss, is that so wrong? 

If you can expertly execute this key ingredient of creating mystique, you will soon find out that it will almost give you a god-like quality...as if you are manipulating the elements in favor of your relationship and love interest. Allow me to give you a quick and small example to demonstrate (if you do not live in New York City, as I do, this might be a bit tough to do...but you'll get the idea):

  • Step 1: refer to your Master List (or photographic memory) to determine your lover's favorite color, second to black, of course.
  • Step 2: Find out when those colors will be displayed on the top of the Empire State Building when in honor of a certain event or holiday...impossible, you say? Nay, I reply! This information can be found at the following website: http://www.esbnyc.com/current_events_tower_lights.asp, although it only gives a 2 month notice ahead of time.
  • Step 3: Plan a nighttime event (before midnight) that will give you a good view of the Empire State Building.
  • Step 4: Point out to your lover that you casually rigged the light to her/his favorite color on purpose just before meeting them. Accent it with a bouquet of the same colored flowers or trinket gift!  
Now, of course, your companion won't believe you at all and just chalk it up to pure coincidence, however, after some time, when all of these small, medium, and large planned coincidences pile up, the wonderful sense of mystique will begin to grow and maintain itself as long as you keep up with it.

Lastly, the last part to creating mystique is to reverse Planned Spontaneity and turn actual coincidences into those that seem to have supernaturally happened in order to symbolize the state of your romantic love life, or to help it forward. This concept is a little hard to grasp at first, but if you just train yourself to be alert enough to pick up on subtle cues and incidences that happen in everyday life and somehow create a connection to your love life, you will soon master this skill. Some examples: If you recently had a minor argument and you discover that a photograph of the both of you has become suddenly askew on the wall; a favorite band just happens to be playing a concert on their birthday or your anniversary; a passage or entire paragraph in the book you are currently reading perfectly describes your relationship or your characters; a bat flies into the house; etc. Omens, much like explained in the book, The Alchemist, can come to mean just about anything to the beholder. Make them work for you by pointing them out to your lover and have them realize the connection too! 

The true art here is to make all of these ingredients fit into your circumstance, and thus completely creating the mystique that the entire laws of the Universe somehow cosmically revolves around your union. So...let's recap: Goth look and demeanor...check! Le regard...check! Planned Spontaneity...check! Coincidences, incidents, and omens...check! Those items are your clay, it is now up to you to mould this clay constantly to create an aura of mysticism that will save your relationship from falling into the inevitable trappings of the mundane, teetering that fine line between reality and fantasy...it's not that hard...it is why we are romantics...it is why we are Goth!

One final Goth thought about mystique...


Hell Hath No Fury...

...Like a clever woman scorn!!!

photo by: Lauren Magliocca

Monday, January 30, 2012

Darth Vader's "How to be Goth" Lessons...

How to properly make an entrance into a room...

Clever Goth Travel Tips...

LOL! We Goths are soooooo smart!!!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Little Girl Who Was Forgotten...

So heartbreaking...

Poem: Drifting

So wonderful and creative!!! Here is the text:


My soul, splintered and sorry,
Is aimless: too numb to feel.
The heart, cradled for long
In a gentle palm
Has now withdrawn into the corner,
Beating, only because it must.
I know the seasons.
That they are all the same.
That Ill keep my cheeks moist throughout them all,
That the harsh winds and spray of thoughts
Will hit me with the same relentlessness
And that company will be shrouded from me
No matter the intensity of a manipulative sun.
Ill walk on.
You know I will.
Across thorns and rocks and glass,
Never finding the way, the salvation, the second chance.
Ill stay alone defaced by sorrow,
My rage doused and quietened
Not by choice.
Vice impales my soles, the lies, the hurt, the hate,
And I can do nothing but walk.
Wander through your forgotten memories,
Like walking through the rain.
Numb, my love elapsed.
Aimless, my destination gone.
Alone, winding the mazes by myself.
Seeing nothing but dead ends and traps.

You have left me drifting like a widowed swan,
What is the force that keeps me wading on?

by Elena

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

A Head-to-Toe Goth Make-up Tutorial

This is SOOOOOO Cute!

However...WOW! There's a lot involved. Let's watch...

Monday, January 23, 2012

Day-Crawlers in the Mist -- Part XIV.2

Welcome back my fellow adventurers! When we last left off in part one, I recanted two stories concerning our subject, the cunning Seth. Follow me as I continue with two more quick and dark tales that will surely send shivers down your spine, I promise...


During  the "Seth" years, this particular watering-hole was a regular pit-stop for a number of Gators...but not your exclusive New York City hotel roaming Gator, no,no,no...more like your common street walking skank hanging outside of strip-clubs caliber of Gator; or as I like to call them: Crocs!

On this night in question, the watering-hole was predominantly (what the locals called) a "Saw-sij Fak-tuhree," meaning that the space resembled a Gay men's bar since no women were present. Seth was there, though, and he was seething from anxiety about this current state of lack of females. I watched as he brooded at the opposite corner of the bar from me while I pretended to pay attention, along with my friends, to the movie Scarface displayed on the flat screened television sets hung above. Seth was rather twitchy and was rapidly becoming boisterous. The lack of females severely put him at the edge of frenzy!

All of the sudden, the front door, directly behind my perch, opened to reveal a prime croc specimen sauntering into a den of potential wolves to try to turn them into possible "puppified" clients. Most, if not all, of the watering-hole populace took immediate notice of her, and just as quickly sized her up for exactly what she was, before returning their gaze to their beverages, pool game, or Tony Montana on screen, bringing on the pain "Wif hees 'lil frien!!!"

This Croc, we'll call her: Miss Lontyme (Ha! Second movie reference!!!), enters the watering-hole much the opposite way a proper Gator does. Instead of scouring the horizon for potential clients first before finding a spot at the bar, the Croc will make a grand entrance and immediately finds her slot at the bar first, thus making potential clients come to her! A very distinctive difference between the two. Miss Lontyme hastily finds a choice central position at the bar and is immediately greeted by the tender of the bar. She places her drink order (which she will hardly sip as to not become too inebriated) and promptly fiddles with her cell phone as to appear nonchalant and casually busy, awaiting an approach. Miss Lontyme is relatively young, Caucasian, seemingly attractive, thin, with long blond hair, and clad in very tight, yet garish, attire. The scent she wore quickly overpowered the space to reaffirm that yes, indeed, there was a female present. Her manners and way of speech were oddly out of sync with her outward appearance...it was as though she wanted to present herself as a stylish and classy female, but once she spoke into her phone it was all: "Yo! Wassup? Where you at??? I jus' got here and I sippin' on some shit this fool jus' poured me!" It was all very confusing!

From the corner of my eye, as I observed Miss Lontyme's behavior, my peripheral vision picked up on Seth's silhouette in the distance shoot up like a meerkat standing at full attention the nan-second he spots the Croc a few yards away! This should get interesting, I thought to myself as I watched Seth's eyes drink in every last detail of the only female before him. He had no choice. She paid him no mind as she casually flirted with the bartender as to maintain her likability at the watering-hole. Seth has obviously figured out this Croc for what she was and calculated on how to change his habitual game-plan to "Score" with this one...for free!

Now...by this point of the night, the staff started turning off some of the beer sign neon lights to save on electricity and my vision became considerably lessened; I also I did not have my handy night vision goggles at the time. I strained to follow the ensuring events, but this is what I deduced...

Seth decidedly walked over to Miss Lontyme. They engage in the same run-of-the-mill banter...each thinking that they are going to gain something beneficial from the other. He offers to buy her a drink. She accepts. They are both trying to out-charm the other. Seth starts to get to the physical contact point. Miss Lontyme becomes somewhat reluctant and slips into "transaction" mode with him. Within the next few seconds, I struggle to spy showing her something below, slightly out of my line of sight, just under the counter's edge. Immediately, Miss Lontyme's complexion goes from confused to perplexed, to pissed off to compliant, all in the space of 10 to 15 seconds. I was dumbfounded! What did Seth show her to make her react in such a manner? In a next sudden swift move, both Seth and Miss Lontyme went off to the women's room (the one with a lock) to consummate some sort of illicit sex act for the next 10 or so minutes before the bartender had to bang on the door to tell them to stop and get out (in his defence, he was trying hard to keep it a clean watering-hole...which it is today!). As both emerged from their impromptu sex dungeon, Seth resumed his spot at the bar while the Croc, known to this day as Miss Lontyme, slithered out of the back door in a very big hurry, never to come back ever again! Seth's reaction was a wide grin as he stated the fact that he never pays for some tail...


The last time I ever saw Seth was on a particularly slow night, much like in the last example. It was indeed again a Saw-sij Fak-tuhree, and Seth found himself (also again) eager to hunt down some female prey! This frustration easily led him to drink his Irish Champagne at twice the pace and his heightened drunken energy was palpable throughout the confines of the watering-hole.

Soon enough, different Day-Crawlers ebbed and flowed throughout the space, thus forcing Seth's attention to remain alert and vigil...and then "SHE" walked in! It is not as if she was anything incredibly exceptional or even a supermodel...I just like putting pronouns into all caps and surrounding them in quotation marks. Anyhow, this Day-Crawler female wasn't your ordinary Gazelle that maybe got separated from her herd, either...no,no...there was something definetly more to her. Although she was considered rather attractive by any Day-Crawler male, she radiated a certain self-confidence and brassiness...something not all together common in these parts! A possible affront to Seth's bravado? This, also, was going to get extremely interesting!!! CRIKEY!!!
She made her way through the plethora of males, that made no effort to hide the fact that they were undressing she's clothing with their eyes, and found a comfortable spot at the opposite end of the bar from my habitual position...hence no lip reading capabilities. Of course, it took no time at all for Seth to begin hovering over her, trying to initiate first contact.

Within the next few minutes, the conversation was inevitably struck up. She and Seth were undergoing the customary and pleasant back-and-forth banter that Day-Crawlers do when gently trying to get to know each other. During the next half of an hour to forty-five minutes, however, it was very apparent that Seth was not making the headway on this potential conquest as he had intended. She saw through his "game" and was able to rebuff his every advance, move, and/or tactic. Seth's frustration was visibly increased ten-fold, while his drunken drive was increased two-fold...not a good equation at this stage of the night.

At my perch, at the other end of the bar, a few friends of mine had joined me as we all sat staring in Seth's direction, jokingly placing bets with each other on Seth's outcome...score or no score. It was innocently all too comical at the time. Abruptly, we witnessed Seth stumbling toward us only to come voice his frustrations with "the boys." As we were trying to stifle our giggles, he reached our end of the watering-hole and these are the words (verbatim) that fell out of his mouth and into our incredulous ears (Warning: very explicit language to follow):

"You see that bitch down there? She's being a total cunt! Fuckin' bitch...I can kill her and chop her up into a thousand fuckin' little pieces...and easily get away with it! Fuckin'-A I can! Stupid fuckin' WHORE!!!"
My two friends' and my eyes grew the size of dinner plates! This was pure scary psycho-babble, alcohol fueled or not! We were speechless! Seth then simply sauntered off to the restroom to angrily relieve himself. We quickly summoned over our friend, the bartender, and advised him to "suggest" to Seth, after he gets out of the loo, that he had had enough to drink and should simply go home as we explained the scenario. Meanwhile, she, herself, went into the ladies' room. Seth exited a few seconds later, missing each other. The bartender decidedly tells him to "pack it up." Seth complies, settles his tab, and leaves the watering-hole quietly via the back door. A bit later, she comes out the the restroom and also pays for her beverages while paying no mind about Seth's absence, gathers her belongings, and exited through the front door.

The absolute last time any of us saw Seth ever again was just after she left the watering-hole as we witnessed Seth trotting in pursuit in her direction she was walkin home in. My two friends and I, after seeing this, bolted outside to make sure she was safely away from Seth, but saw no one on the urban horizon...neither one of them was to be seen...ever again...


From that moment forward, I realized that Day-Crawlers were indeed a different romantic species than myself and my Gothically inclined peers. I found myself fascinated and developed a certain passion to learn more about their strange and very foreign ways! Goths, it seems, are all to generally quick to be labeled as evil or sinister, complete with a cold and uncaring black heart, but true depravity and maliciousness exists only behind a "normal" looking persona. The rituals behind Day-Crawler mating is centered, it seems to me now, not in romance, but rather in making an impeccable and forceful first impression, followed up with deceit to feed an ulterior motive. The romantic advances and gestures typically come later as to keep the relationship moving forward into more serious territory...much can say the same of the very colorful and vibrant Peacock!

OH!!! I almost forgot!!! The one thing that makes Seth's story all the much more scarier and poignant lies with one very important factoid that I purposefully left out of this entire tale until now: Seth's profession...

Seth was (and maybe still is) a law enforcement officer!!!

Sleep well tonight my dear Gothlings... 


Thursday, January 19, 2012


"A life without the gift of finding true love, I can accept...But a life without romance, I will never subscribe to!"

~Sir William Welles (1/19/12)

Tip #59: The Treasure Box

This tip is not meant to be something for your partner or lover...this one is for the hopeless romantic in you! Find yourself a box a wee bit more stylish than some old shoebox and use it to keep letters, pictures, trinkets, and any mementos from your present and/or past love interest(s). Years down the line you may want to re-visit its contents to reminisce and bathe in nostalgia.

The tresure box can be locked for privacy, tucked away in a closet, or simply kept on a shelf...and let the memories pile up!

Tip #58: The Travel Letter

The next time your lover has to travel out of state or even out of the country, instead of sneaking a loaded gun into his or her luggage as a practical joke, write a letter, a card, or even a note stating that you miss them, how you hate to be apart from them, and how you can't wait to be reunited! Take this note and quietly slip it into their bag so that they can find it during their travels.

Bonus Tip: If, by chance, your lover's faith is put to the test during his or her travels and time apart from you, this tactic will remind them just what a great thing they have at home!

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Day-Crawlers in the Mist -- Part XIV.1

For the fourteenth installment of my "Day-Crawlers in the Mist" series, I would like to share with you the roots of this series and my observatory travels...the origins, as it were. Be warned, though, it is not a pretty picture...

In the Beginning, there was Seth...

It was about six years ago this year in which I found myself at a watering-hole in close proximity to my own dwelling. I had just come out of an incredibly horrible and very long-term relationship (more like a business transaction) with an amazingly cruel and greedy woman...but at least I was free from her...cut cold turkey. This watering-hole allowed me to drown my sorrows of wasting away the better part of my twenties and early thirties to this Succubus into an endless glass of white wine (ice on the side, please) night after night as I tried to silence the thoughts of suicide that constantly threw pin-prick attacks at my vulnerable brain. This watering-hole quickly became a sort of sanctuary for me, even though I clearly did not match the rest of the clientele...it was (and still is) a dive-y sports bar. One fear was that I was going to be glued to the same bar stool until I, too, turned into one of these bitter and lonely old men that only drank away the time until death inevitably whisked them away from their sorrow, or end up a character in a Billy Joel song

As I sat there, sipping on my pain numbing nectar, I developed the art of observing people while remaining undetected. I perfected my lip-reading skills as well as honing my peripheral vision as to not appear to be directly looking at someone or something while I followed their every move, if need be. Even my trusty notebook (back then it was an ordinary spiral bound notepad) became an invaluable accessory...if I look very busy, people around me are completely convinced I have tuned them out.

Soon enough, I made a group of collective friends that included the entire staff and the more predominant regulars. I was definitely the weird and odd duck in the place, granted, but my class-clown appeal insured that my tight little spot at the deep corner of the bar was my court, stage, and perch...from there I would see all!

After some time I got to meet and casually know a semi-regular to the establishment known as Seth (name was changed to...well...you'll find out why). Seth was a young, 2nd generation Irish fellow in his mid-twenties. A short, yet built, frame topped with a military issue styled buzzed haircut. He was brash, arrogant, egocentric, and (Irish stereotype aside) a professional drunk. Above all, however, Seth was an elite pick-up artist in a class all of his own!

I closely watched Seth at every opportunity when our paths crossed at the mutual watering-hole. His basic tactic was to play the "Numbers Game," whereas if you hit on 100 females and you only get one to respond positively, that's all you really need; however, what I found fascinating was that his technique was distinctly routine...and wonderfully predictable!  

On any given night, Seth would walk onto the watering-hole grounds and order a beer. As he awaited his magical elixir, he would quickly scan the horizon for females, much like a Gator would in search of male clients, and expertly feigned greeting his male acquaintances...who posed no apparent threat to his mission, might I add. Seth would start at the far end of the bar from my position and literally chat up every female, going up the chain, one by one, until he found one who was responsive to his advances or wait for new prey to enter. Time and time again, he found a Day-Crawler female with just enough lowered self-esteem or "daddy issues" to consider his random act of attentive kindness to be something completely genuine and sincere. It became so blatant that over the months of observing him it basically became: "Hey! You wanna have sex? No? Oh well...Movin' on... Hey! You wanna have sex? No? Oh well...Movin' on... Hey! You wanna have sex? No? Oh well...Movin' on..." and for the most part of the time he found some female to accept!

The one-night stands were aplenty, he once proudly proclaimed to me. His manner was so primal and animalistic that, in my mind, I classified him as a sexual predator of the highest caliber. There was a super-confidence to him that I could not comprehend, beyond fueled by liquid courage. It was rather unnatural! Let me cite some cases to prove my point...


Zog Sports is a some sort of social/fundraising organization in which a bunch of 20 to 30 something coeds get together after (yuppie hour-ed) work to play team sports like softball, kickball, or the like (to hearken back to the nightmare that was gym class for the rest of us), and then go to a nearby (sponsoring) bar to get drunk on Monday or Tuesday nights. For Day-Crawlers, it is an interesting way to meet new people and network, as they all wear the same ridiculous, brightly colored tee-shirts and baggy shorts...in this way they all already know what the others, whether male or female, will look like as they just rolled out of bed in a sweaty mess.

On this particular day, as I walked in, I noticed that the Zog festivities were already in full swing. Seth was already there too, and was preoccupied with bouncing around like an excited little kid in a candy store as he habitually tried to chat up every female in the crowded space. The rejections from the women were abundant, but that little to deter the determined Seth. Soon enough I noticed him learning that he needs to lower his standards a bit and to focus his stalking on easier prey. As he comes closer to my end of the watering-hole, by a gap at the counter to which he orders another beer, a little wisp of a girl emerges from her grouping at a side table and sidles next to Seth to order another round of drinks for her and her friends. Seth took no time to pick up on her scent and his attention snapped to to her so fast you could have almost heard a whip crack!

She was a tiny, short haired brunette with large eyes filled with doe-y innocence. Her small stature was a disadvantage to her plight as the few alcoholic beverages she had already consumed were presently taking their toll on her brain and thus impeding her better judgement. As she waited for her drink order to materialize, Seth struck immediately with the speed and deadly precision of an angry rattlesnake.

He started off with an innocuous comment or remark about her drink order as he coolly placed both elbows on the bar counter, leaning forward thus causing his stature to be lower than hers, giving a false message of being submissive and aloof. The female responded by politely smiling and offering a light retort as a Day-Crawler would involuntarily do...only Goth women will tell someone they find annoying to go, "Fuck off and die in a pool of your own piss and blood," within the first 3 seconds of being approached. For the most part, more mainstream women will offer any male the "benefit of the doubt" for up to a minute or so...the crucial moment amount of time a Day-Crawler male tries, at all costs, to avoid making a complete and total ass of himself.

As the multiple drinks of her order began to pile up before her, Seth took the opportunity to make a slight, yet fact-finding joke at her expense: "Wow! You're really serious about getting hammered tonight," he said as he pointed out at all of the glasses and bottles.

"Oh no...(giggles)...these aren't all for me! They're for my friends over there," she informed as she pointed to a table behind her containing about six or seven people, including a rather sleepy hipster male somewhat nodding off in the corner. Seth looks back at the table and takes this chance to raise his torso, pivot his body to then face her, and place his right hand on the bar's edge, thus placing himself in the "Kok-Blok" position...from what I have been told. he now looms over her. He introduces himself and shoots forward his hand to expect it to be gingerly shaken. Again, being socially polite, she is forced to comply to divulge her first name (harmless enough, right?) and to gingerly shake his hand. Physical contact!

Whatever the name she says she is named, Seth continued with a gasped statement claiming that it is the same name of his mother/sister/favorite actress/favorite singer/childhood babysitter he had a "mad crush" on/etc. It didn't matter if it wasn't true...he didn't plan on marrying this "chick." Her response was the typical, "OHMYGAWD! That's so funny!" Something in common! The game was afoot...

The next move was to get closer. Seth makes some other random observation about her or a question about her interest in Zog sports which prompts another answer. He feigns that due to the loud music and/or the noisy crowd he suffered a bit of hearing loss and requests that she repeat herself as he bends forward to place his ear very close to her lips while she reiterates her initial statement. Close proximity!

The dilemma Seth faces now is that she must soon return to her thirsty friends with their drinks. He informs her that he thinks that they are hitting it off quite nicely, that she is awfully cute, and hopes that she will come back to talk to him some more. In a swift defensive maneuver the young female points toward the table and states, "Yeah, but I'm here with my boyfriend," singling out the "dude" who is now completely passed out in the corner. Seth eyeballs the heap of a boyfriend and replies with a chuckle, "Well, it doesn't look like he is really excited to be hear with you, right now!" Much to her embarrassment for her choice in men, she finds this to be true. He then says into her ear, "O.k., go bring your little friends their drink and then come back to find me here..." She obeys!

Soon afterward she returns to Seth at the bar, slightly more intoxicated. They both resume their ear-to-mouth conversation. This part of the dialogue I was not privy to, however, I was able to witness that Seth would occasionally touch her arm or shoulder when laughing about something or telling an amusing story. Soon enough, she was returning the increasing physical contact as well!

The next thing I know, within approximately 15 to 20 minutes of making first contact with this inebriated female, Seth is making out with her in full view of her oblivious friends and unconscious boyfriend! This goes on for about 4 minutes until one of her girlfriends notices the scandal happening at the bar and convinces her group to call it a night and scamper on home. Seth and his conquest are briskly separated and she is whisked away with her boyfriend in tow...the naughty encounter was over. Seth takes a moment to revel in the testosterone filled memory...takes a swig of his beer (possibly to disinfect), and notices a "hawt" blond standing at the jukebox at the opposite end of the bar. He saunters off in her direction...


One of Seth's favorite hunting grounds of the watering-hole was the jukebox. This dispenser of primal rhythms was of the variety that was hooked up to the Internet to which you can search for millions of mainstream songs available for your listening pleasure...or to annoy the hell out of the rest of the barroom population with awful music. Interestingly enough, Day-Crawler females are 60 to 70 times more likely to play music from a jukebox than their male counterparts. Music strikes a primitive chord with these females (something I will address in an upcoming episode), and they were often found staring or poking at the touchscreen looking for "tunes."

This opportunity was too easy for Seth. If one (or two) female(s) found their way to the jukebox, he would lurk close behind to spy on her musical preferences. After three selections were made he could size up the favorite genre or band she was most interested in. He would sneak up behind her and innocently ask, "Would you be a dear and play a song for me?" This would usually be followed by a suspicious question from the female which sounds something like: "That depends...what do you want to hear?" This gives her a position of control. Seth would reply with a song title, band, or genre that is totally up her alley. Common ground!

Next, Seth would place himself somewhat directly behind her, but slightly off to her left side as they both stare at the screen to scroll, search, and peruse the song selections. He would then move in close to initiate the mouth-to-ear technique as they communicate further. Proximity!

The following tactical move was to establish some sort of physical connection. This was easily achieved by faking a bit of near-sightedness as he squinted at the screen, leans forward and lightly places his hand on the female's mid to lower back as leverage. One of two things could happen at this crucial impasse: First, the female senses the bodily contact, finds it unwarranted, and is taken aback by it. She recoils and states that he is being too forward. In this scenario, Seth would immediately remove his hand and place it in the air to demonstrate no ill intent while verbally apologizing for his faux-pas, maybe blaming it on something self-deprecating on his part (being tipsy; lost his balance; loss of eyesight; etc.), or something complimentary on her part (couldn't resist because of her beauty; felt as if he's known her for a long time; hand has a mind of it's own; etc.). If the female doesn't walk away immediately, Seth would undoubtedly try the move again until it succeeds or fails completely outright. Second, the female in question feels the light brush of his hand on her back but does not recoil. In this scenario Seth sensed that his tactic has gained him some ground. He isn't going to press it further, however, Seth removes his hand from her back to point at something on the screen to further send mixed signals...always keeping this Day-Crawler female guessing on his intentions...but rest assured the physical contact will intensify..even including a bold peck on the cheek or hug to thank her for playing his song request.

On the night in regards to case #73, the second scenario was being played out before me in Seth's favor with a perky and clueless college student Gazelle in her early twenties that had carelessly strayed from her small flock of roommates. Seth's ultimate goal, upon seeing the rest of her group, was to infiltrate it and hopefully to end up in bed with all three of the coeds...at once!

With that goal in mind, Seth politely escorted the one he encountered at the jukebox to her Gazelle roommate/friends, where he promptly introduced himself to them and boldly sat at their table to then order a round of libations to celebrate this meeting...and to loosen their inhibitions. Within the next following half of an hour I watched Seth as he expertly charmed all three females while exuding an air of tipsy goofiness. I have no clue as to what was exactly said since they were out of earshot, and reading lips of drunken people is a whole other skill on its own that I am continuing to master. What I do know is that at the end of that half of an hour, Seth proudly accompanied his three conquests into a taxi, and off they went...

I have never seen these three Day-Crawler females return to the watering-hole since!

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

A Day-Crawling dating truth...

So true... That's why we Goths all wear makeup and speak our minds!!!


"I may not be a beautiful man...I don't even consider myself to be a handsome man...but what I do know is that I am NOT an ordinary man!"

~Sir William Welles (1/13/12)

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Goths Make Better Lovers

Check out this wonderful short documentary made in Britain back in 2003!
It's "Bloody Brilliant"!!!

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Always Something There To Remind Me...

This has to be, hands-down the best, and my favorite, (pre-Goth) song from the 1980's!!! Always apropos!

Always Something There to Remind Me by the Naked Eyes (1983). Let's watch...

This is what Wikipedia has to say about it:

Twenty years after its composition, "Always Something There to Remind Me" (so titled) reached the US Top Twenty for the first time via a synthpop reinvention of the song by Naked Eyes which reached the Top Ten on the Billboard Hot 100 in the summer of 1983.

Vocalist Pete Byrne and keyboardist Rob Fisher first cut "Always Something There to Remind Me" as one of a number of demos recorded in Bristol upon forming the duo later known as Naked Eyes in early 1982. Byrne would recall: "I had always loved [the] song ["Always Something There to Remind Me"], so we called a friend who had the record, he read the lyric over the phone and we put it together from memory."

On the strength of the demos cut in Bristol Byrne and Fisher were signed to EMI Records in May 1982 and the track "Always Something There to Remind Me" was cut 1 September 1982 in a session at Abbey Road Studios produced by Tony Mansfield. Byrne would recall: "The record was recorded at Abbey Road, and we were invited to a party downstairs, with Paul McCartney and many other stars...When we returned upstairs to the studio around 1 a.m., I decided to have a go at the vocal, It was the first time I have ever recorded a vocal in one take".

Released in the US in January 1983, Naked Eyes' "Always Something There to Remind Me" gradually gained attention entering the Billboard Hot 100 in March 1983 to peak at #8 that June.[7] The cachet of entering the US Top Ten allowed the single, previously overlooked in its performer's United Kingdom homeland, to make a July 1983 UK chart debut but only to rise no higher than #59. "Always Something There to Remind Me" did afford Naked Eyes' Top 10 success in other countries besides the United States: Australia (#7), Canada (#9) and New Zealand (#2).

Monday, January 9, 2012

Day-Crawlers in the Mist -- Part XIII

The local watering-hole was rather quiet a couple of days past the massive holiday and year's end migration. Only a few pockets of Day-Crawlers were strewn about the counter. At the one corner sat two females with the blondest hair I have ever encountered during my travels! Gators or not, it mattered not since my focus was transfixed on a most intriguing specimen which I spotted only a few yards away from me, past the females...the wildly entertaining, yet completely pathetic Drunken Monkey!!!

(As I physically write these lines in my trusty notebook, the Drunken Monkey has sidled up next to me, and with nostrils flaring he is try to make sense of me...I must be prudent and especially not to make any eye contact! He will wander off soon enough...I hope...)

Specimen #13209493-B: THE DRUNKEN MONKEY
Caucasian Beta male in his early to mid thirties; Buzzed haircut; slightly overweight; wearing the standard khaki twill pants; an untucked pastel plaid button-down shirt with an unbuttoned collar to reveal a white tee-shirt underneath. Covered with the typical blue blazer. Cannot detect if he has a wedding band on his ring finger or not. Beverage preference: Vodka and cranberry juice.
We'll call him Mr. Wiggles.

Now...Mr. Wiggles is a floppy mess having swallowed too many alcoholic beverages over the past few hours. At his current state his tact and inhibitions are considerably lowered, while his libido and sexual thirst is at an all-time high! He strategically positions himself at a central point of the watering-hole, with empty slots on either side of him, hopefully to be soon filled by one or more pieces of hapless prey.

One of the sure signs to look for when trying to spot any Drunken Monkey is that his blurred field of vision causes his eyes to cross slightly, giving him a limited range of about forty-eight inches of visibility. This reduced ocular function will, in turn, cause the Drunken Monkey to swing his head intermittently from right to left as he scans his surroundings for any potential females. If there are none in his field of view his head will droop down as his gaze will fix on a particular focal point which is his drink situated directly before him. This process will repeat itself every few seconds or so...until the inevitable victim(s) will come close enough into his range. Mr. Wiggles exuded all of these signs, even to comical proportions. It was as though his neck was made out of loose rubber!

Soon enough...as fate would have it, a pair of Gazelles unknowingly prance up to the counter to order something, placing themselves precariously close to Mr. Wiggles' left side. Part of me felt bad for feeling a bit of excitement as to what will about to happen...and part of me wanted to warn them of the impending danger lurking over their shoulder, but no...I mustn't interfere with the natural order of the Day-Crawler ecosystem...so I sat and watched with anticipation!

The two unescorted females were promptly greeted by the Tender-of-the-Bar and had their requests taken. Meanwhile, the loose-necked Mr. Wiggles was sizing up the two females. One was taller than the other...attractive enough (by Day-Crawler standards)...and like all other "Gazelles," completely nondescript! They giggle to themselves and pay little attention to the Drunken Monkey squirming behind them. By the time the females' libations are poured, stirred, and served, Mr. Wiggles motions, in a manner fitting a buffoon (whatever animal that may be...), to the bartender that he will gladly pay for these two tall glasses of intoxicating refreshments...an offering, as it were.

The entire "I'd-like-to-buy-her-a-drink" tactic employed by Day-Crawler males is almost as old as human existence itself...and I deplore the method to the very bottom of my core! Allow me to explain: First and foremost it is a cheap and underhanded tactic that takes no creativity, not to mention it puts the bartender in the position of "breaking-the-ice" for the male...that lacks courage and confidence as well. It also awkwardly forces the recipient of said offering to either decline or thank the other person for their generosity, and thus obliging in ensuing conversation...warranted or not. Now...any Day-Crawler female can very well refuse the offering, but at the sake of being labeled a "bitch" or a "lesbian" by the offended party! But on the contrary, most of these Day-Crawler females indeed will accept the drink offers (they are expensive sometimes, soite) and be polite enough to engage in some light banter in exchange. Do not get me wrong, generosity comes with chivalry and proper romance...if there is one flaw I deeply suffer from is being overly generous with those I truly care about...but why would I be generous with someone I haven't met yet? To impress them? Hardly! I have bought some women I've just met drinks in my past, but only after I have been engaged in a good conversation for a substantial amount of time...not the other way around!!!

So...suffice it to say that Mr. Wiggles has stealthily employed this "master plan" tactic. The bartender complies. The two females are then put on the spot to show their gratitude and be polite toward him. For now, his plan seems to be working out. The taller one (closer to Mr. Wiggles) is trying to be pleasant while the shorter one has already figured him out for the Drunken Monkey he is. She is not amused. Soon enough her taller counterpart also senses the predicament they now face themselves in, but somehow continues to be courteous. So sad...

Suddenly, as the taller Gazelle is trying to avoid eye-contact with Mr. Wiggles, he moves in closer to her and starts to repeatedly kiss her right should as if they have been long-lost lovers. She tries to pay him no mind, maybe even laugh it off, but very quickly his behavior crosses onto the territory of sexual harassment. The bartender, ever vigil, sends hand signals to the manager/bouncer to separate the Drunken Monkey from the Gazelles (a fine display of silent communication between the two). In one smooth motion the extraction is made and the offended Gazelles gladly take their leave to freely roam about in the fields.

So what is a Drunken Monkey to do when suddenly left standing alone at the watering-hole? Search for new prey, is what!!! Remember those two overly bleached blond females I described before, sitting at the corner of the bar? TARGET LOCKED!!!

Getting a better look at these two brightly colored females, I notice that they are two prime specimens of the rare Western Blondback Warble ("Barbicae Peroxidicus Blondica"), and I could see how they could easily excite the primitive Day-Crawler male mind and reproductive glands. By this point of the night, the two Blondback Warbles, sitting still a few slots away from me to my right, were strategically surrounded by four Alpha males trying to out-charm each other for the sake of their attention and approval. When quite abruptly, out of nowhere, and expertly executed, Mr. Wiggles managed to slither in between the four Alpha males and make his way right next to the two females to engage in a spontaneous conversation with not one, but both of the them! In his warped mind he deserves all! BEHOLD! The skill of the Drunken Monkey!!!

The best moment was when the four Alpha males quizzically all look at one another as to try to figure out how this little slimy individual managed to penetrate their testosterone reinforced perimeter. The two Blondback Warbles, programmed by decades of genetically predetermined instincts, automatically respond to his banter...no matter how inane or absurd...simply because he is the closest to them.  Soon enough, the air is tense with the agitation of the four Alpha males trying to silently communicate, or with some slight grunting, on how to rid this intruder from their midst and especially from their prize!

Somehow, the two Blondback Warbles are quite amused by all of this...and why wouldn't they be? All of the positive attention is quite intoxicating as is flattering! Mr. Wiggles, with his limited field of view, finds the four competing males absolutely invisible to him -- his tunnel-vision is completely transfixed and hypnotized by the pure blondness situated before him.

Mr. Wiggles starts to employ his usual female charming spells, but he is increasingly sloppy at it. That is when one of the Alpha males has an incredible inspiration! He calls over for the bartender -- who continues to monitor the entire situation, as I have. The smarter Alpha male, in a loud and determined voice, declares that he would like to order shots for the entire little group of theirs...including Mr. Wiggles, their "new friend," as he forcefully clasps Mr. Wiggles on the shoulder, which momentarily breaks his concentration from the females, exuding a goofy yet approving smile. The bartender inquires as what he would like poured. "Seven shots of fine Tequila," four for the Alpha males, two for the Blondback Warbles, and one for their unexpected guest, the Drunken Monkey.

The bartender catches on and quickly pours out the potent liquid in seven tall glass cylinders. Each member take their glass, raise it in a toast to the new year to come, and proceed to pour the contents down their gullets. Within seconds after placing the shot glass on the counter, in a sudden move worthy of any 1980's teen comedy film, Mr. Wiggles goes from being an upright standing Drunken Monkey with a vertebrae to a sloppy puddle who has just dropped to the floor. Without a beat, the conquering Alpha male who came up with the plan exclaims, "CLEAN UP ON AISLE 4!!!" All of the others break out into a fit of laughter as the manager/bouncer is summoned over, yet again, this time to remove the pathetic remnants of the once proud Drunken Monkey from the floor and rid the watering-hole from his presence. Bedtime for Mr. Wiggles...

And that, my friends, was The Tale of the Drunken Monkey...

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Poem: To Helen

Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece,
And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo, in yon brilliant window-niche
How statue-like I see thee stand,
The agate lamp within thy hand,
Psyche, from the regions which
Are Holy Land!

~ Edgar Allan Poe (1845)