The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / August 24, 2008

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / August 24, 2008

Friday night a friend and I ended up getting free tickets to a shindig hosted by Nicole Richie and Joel Madden. Yes, we decided to go. Don’t look at me. To be honest, I had no fucking clue as to who Joel Madden was; I thought he was the guy who designed handbags. Needless to say, about 20 minutes into the night I find out that he’s the host DJ and a member of the band Good Charlotte. Though I didn’t know any of the band’s songs, I figured that this guy, being in the music scene for a while, at least had some musical sense?

Well it turned out that the setlist for the night was the same typical shit you’d hear in any Ed Hardy sportin’ club. Not the worst I’ve ever heard, not the best, but just your typical safe, setlist. A little bit of G-Funk, a little bit of dance club hip-hop, and of course that annoying “Music is my boyfriend / music is my girlfriend” song. That’s when I had to ask myself, “Seriously, what ever happened to the art of DJing?” The days of Grandmaster Flash, Mix Master Mike, Cut Chemist, DJ Q-Bert, DJ Premier, and DJ Shadow are long gone. I mean, even that kid from the movie Juice would probably blow most of the current “DJs” out of the water.

The fact remains that the art of DJing has fallen somewhere between a plastic drinking bird toy hitting random keys on a keyboard and the shuffle feature on your iPod. Unfortunately, this trend will only expand in the indefinite future.  Thanks to hard drive technology, broadband filesharing, and lossy compression, any bored asshole out there with a laptop, some freeware software, and an hour of spare time can claim to be a DJ.  Shit, even me.

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / August 1, 2008

This one’s for all the webmasters, bloggers, and Web entrepreneurs. Here’s some great, free info on using SEO, SEM, blogging, social media, press releases, and your website layout to generate more leads and traffic. Highly recommended, especially for those of you out there (like myself) who are still green to the world of online marketing.

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / July 22, 2008

It starts with the email.

We wake up in the morning, stumble to our desk, and click the Outlook icon in the taskbar to sort through the day’s digital deluge. And as much as we hate it, it makes feel important in a certain way. Someone out there knows I’m alive. Someone out there cares about me.

Soon the minutes turn into half-hours, then hours. Due to corporate politics, 3 line thank you notes to Managing Directors turn into 40 minutes of rewriting, proofreading, spell-checking, and BCCing. Welcome to productivity in the 21st century.

Email. The news. Phone calls. Conference calls. Reminders. Angry clients. Worried clients. Bored clients. Meetings. Questions about software usage. Letters of intent. Advertising. You need to do this. You need to buy this. You need to worry about this. You need to not do this. The messages come from everywhere. Oh, there’s always something there to remind me… sing it with me.

The fact is, we have all been trained to live in reaction ever since birth—and this especially applies to the average American male.

The journey goes something like this:

Ages 4-14: If you don’t study, then how are you going to get good grades?

Ages 15-18: If you don’t get good grades, then how are you going to get into a good college?

Ages 18-22: If you don’t graduate from a good college, then how are you going to get a decent job?

Ages 22-Eternity: If you don’t have a decent job, then how are you going to find a girlfriend? If you don’t have a decent job, a condo/house, and a relatively new car, then how are you going to get an attractive wife? If you don’t get a pay raise, a bigger condo/house, and a new car on a regular basis, then how are you going to keep that attractive wife of yours?

Everything is laid out, step by step, piece by piece. A trail of bullshit the length of five football fields. Climb the ivory ladder. Laugh a few seconds longer at your boss’ jokes. Ask your coworkers every Monday morning how their weekends were. Gossip with “the boys” about the hot new secretary. Ogle the airbrushed photos in Maxim during your lunch break. Get the promotion. Buy the house. Buy the car. Buy the ring. Buy that feeling of self-worth. Feed the white-picket fence arms race. Love the system, and the system loves you back. Follow all the steps, and you can finally call yourself a success.

And isn’t that what success is after all? Getting that 5% pay raise every year so you can spend it all when you’re 65? Going from a workstation to a cubicle to an office to a corner office? Or shimmying up from an analyst to a senior analyst to a consultant to a senior consultant to a manager to a senior manager to a managing director to a senior managing director to a partner? Now if that doesn’t get you excited, then nothing will.

So… how was your weekend?

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / July 18th, 2008

I remember seeing this guy on a few of David DeAngelo’s programs. For a guy who’s 3 feet tall and wheelchair-stricken, he’s probably one of the most positive-minded people on this planet. Not to mention the fact that he probably pulls more women than most of us (a la Murderball). Check out Sean Stephenson on The Jimmy Douchebag Kimmel Show here.

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / July 8th, 2008

I’m not here to sell you any products. I’m not here to get you to click on referral links (see my Top 10 Underrated Movies list below for that). And I’m not here to blow sunshine and moonbeams up your ass.

But if you want the raw, uncensored truth on mens’ fashion, then keep reading. I’m no fashion guru, and I could give two shits what sarcastic gay guys on E! say about the outfits people wore at last year’s Oscars. But what I do know from firsthand experience is the power of insecurity, peer pressure, and marketing, and how it relates to the world of fashion. So buckle up, ‘cause it’s time to cut the bullshit and get real.

Let’s start by examining the 7 types of guys out there from a fashion perspective:

Mr. Clueless:

Just wears whatever clothes he bought back during tech school or that he got for free from his IT job. Can’t understand why anyone would spend more than $30 on a pair of shoes.

Mr. Safe:

Is happy as long as he doesn’t stand out. The worst thing that could happen is for someone to notice his clothing and give a negative reaction, even if the overall number of positive reactions he gets greatly outweighs the number of negative reactions. Usually dresses like a 50 year old man, regardless of actual age.

Mr. Trendy-Safe:

Believes that looking cool is the epitome of mens’ fashion. Religiously follows the advice in soul-numbing advertisement brochures, I mean, magazines such as Maxim and FHM and websites such as AskMen.com.

Mr. Super-Trendy:

Has to be on top of the latest fashion trends. Spends half his salary on clothing that’ll be out of style in a few months. Frequently visits sites like The Sartorialist and leaves catty, condescending remarks.

Mr. Clone:

Wears whatever makes him fit in to his peer group. Has an urgent need to belong. Examples: Hipsters, preppies, punks, Goths, skateboarders, hippies, jocks, hardcore rockers, frat guys, hip-hop heads, yuppies, etc. Isn’t it amazing how everyone in these groups is unique in the exact same way?

Mr. Spite:

Dresses like a bum in order to stick it to either a) “the man,” b) Dubya, or c) our capitalist society. Deep down is insecure about his looks and angry at the world.

The Individual:

The advertiser’s public enemy number one. Doesn’t care what others think of his fashion, but not in a reactionary or spiteful way (see above). Has enough intelligence to understand what looks good on his unique body/bone structure/physique. Knows the fundamentals of fashion, but isn’t a slave to them. May be a trend setter without even knowing it (or caring if he is). Enjoys good fashion for the creativity and expression, the same way one can enjoy good art or music. Has confidence whether he’s dressed like a complete scrub or to the nines. This is who you want to be, and by following these 8 simple rules, anyone can get there.

Rule #1: When buying clothes, the most important criteria is the fit.

Learn it and remember it. Tattoo it on your face if necessary. Know your measurements, and from now on only buy clothes that match them. A great-fitting $30 dress shirt will always look better than the $200 dress shirt that’s an inch too big on the shoulders and chest. The same way most women believe that they’re a size smaller than they really are, most men believe that they’re a size bigger than they really are. Ever know a guy who refuses to wear a size Small shirt even though it would be the perfect fit? If you ask me, it all comes down to made-up insecurities. I think deep down guys like that believe that a size Small equates to a weak body or a small penis in the eyes of others. If you have a better theory, I’m waiting to hear it.

Rule #2: Know how colors work.

Find which colors complement each other and which don’t. For starters, match the belt, socks, shoes, and watch. When it comes to tops and bottoms, kill the blue on blue and white on white routines. And unless your name is Bob Dylan, stay away from Blonde on Blonde (buh dum chsss!) I-say! I-say! Know these first 2 rules, and from a purely superficial standpoint you’re already doing better than 90% of the male population out there.

Rule #3: Accessories can hurt you or help you.

Glasses, watches, belts, piercings, hell even sideburns. Every little thing matters. If it’s not helping you, it’s hurting you.

Rule #4: Just because it’s trendy doesn’t mean it looks good on you.

Skinny jeans seem to be in-vogue for both men and women at this time. Does that mean most men and women look good in them? Fuck no. Again, know your body and physique. And if you still don’t believe me, then let me remind me you of flannel shirts, genie pants, neon shorts, jeans with the boxers sewn into them, etc.

Rule #5: Know the law of diminishing returns.

I’m not one of those people that says spending any more than the minimum on clothes is a waste when you actual calculate the cost it takes to manufacture and ship the product. Sometimes it is worth it to spend a premium to get the quality and look you want. But you do hit a certain point when you have to ask yourself whether those $500 Japanese selvage denim jeans really worth the asking price. At this point you’re paying for the billboard ad and downtown Tokyo retail rent space, not the actual jeans themselves. And if you think that’s bad, don’t get me started on the law of diminishing returns as it applies to womens’ fashion.

Rule #6: Be open to advice and criticism.

Many guys get real uptight and defensive when given suggestions on fashion or grooming. You don’t have to take the advice, but it never hurts to lend an open ear. Don’t let your ego fuck up your progress.

Rule #7: Step outside your comfort zone.

There is nothing that will get you that “asexual boring nice guy” stamp on your forehead than dressing like a conservative office drone. Again, most people (and not just men) are terrified of how their friends, coworkers, family, and even random strangers will perceive a change in fashion. The fact is, no one really cares. And if they do, then it’s because they’re jealous of your newfound confidence and insecure about their own inability to take action. Hey, at least you’ll know who your true friends are.

And finally… the most important rule of all…

Rule #8: You are not your clothes.

Whether you loved the film or hated the Film Club (personally I thought it was uneven), there’s one line from that film everyone should heed: You are not your fucking khakis. And I’ll take this a step further…

You are not your fucking mesh trucker cap.
You are not your fucking Abercrombie shorts.
You are not your fucking black motorcycle jacket.
You are not your fucking Converse sneakers.
You are not your fucking Sean John polo.
You are not your fucking Adidas track suit.
You are not your fucking Affliction t-shirt.
You are not your fucking black hoodie.
You are not your fucking True Religion jeans.
You are not your fucking Birkenstock sandals.
You are not your fucking Hugo Boss suit.
You are not your fucking Ray Ban aviator sunglasses.
You are not your fucking Dickies.

Remember back during high school when cliques were based on fashion and outward appearance? You had the preppies, the Goths, the skateboarders, the hip-hop heads, the stoners, the hippies, etc. We were all conditioned to believe that appearance = identity. I remember as a kid thinking how if I only I had the Jnco jeans and the Airwalks, I would fit in. We’ve all experienced this type of insecurity at some point in our lives; it’s an unfortunate side effect of growing up in the modern world.

Sadly most adults today still carry around this crippling notion that clothes and fashion make one’s identity. If I put on a fisherman’s vest, does that necessarily mean that I know how to fish? If I buy an oversized Ecko hoodie, does that suddenly give me mad freestylin’ ability?

Look, there’s nothing wrong with, for example, wearing the shirt of an obscure band you like. But you have to ask yourself this: Am I wearing this shirt in the secret hope that some hot hipster chick on the street will recognize my “indie cred,” or am I wearing this shirt because I honestly like it, regardless if anyone’s around to see it or not. If everyone else in the world suddenly went blind, would I still buy it and wear it?

So there you have it. You are not your fucking clothes. You are also not your fucking job, your fucking bank statement, or the fucking car you drive. You are you.

I’ll leave the final words to dating guru Owen Cook, on that warm, fuzzy, temporary self-esteem boost most of us get from a nice new haircut, shirt, or pair of shoes.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you should feel that way all the time?”

I couldn’t have fucking said it better myself.

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / July 7, 2008

Here’s to the movies who’ve never received their full amount of deserved respect from audiences and critics alike:

10. The Highest Honor

One of the best war movies you’ve never seen. The ending will have you standing on your coffee table–knife in hand.

9. The Last American Virgin

The most underrated teenage sex comedy of all time, with a twist that would never make it past the studio heads today. In other news, I hear a remake is currently in the works…

8. Repo Man

The ride gets crazier as the film progresses. Hoo ha! File under the “brilliantly insane.”

7. In the Company of Men

Welcome to the working week. Two office yuppies hatch a plan to date the most desperate woman they can find (in this case, a deaf typist), shower her with affection, then simultaneously dump her without warning. “I think she’s got one of those voices. You know, like a dolphin. Like having a Sunday chat with Flipper.”

6. Secretary

A young woman, fresh out of her stay at a mental institute, discovers her S&M side while working as a secretary. Every woman I know who’s seen this movie (regardless of age and level of conservativeness) has loved it. If you don’t know why after watching it, then you’re completely clueless.

5. Nightmares

A collection of 4 short horror films. Worth watching for the second story alone: What happens when you reach the 13th level of “The Bishop of Battle?” No one knows, until now.

4. Leon

One of the best action movies ever created. Style for miles and miles, but with depth and heart beneath it all. Just make sure you watch the International or Deluxe version which features 24 minutes of footage that was deemed too “sensitive” for American audiences.

3. The Virgin Suicides

“You know, most people will never taste that kind of love. But at least I tasted it once, right?” To the unrequited high school love that was once in all of us. Spellbinding.

2. American Psycho

The 80s. Excess. Greed. Sex. New Order. Expensive condos. Designer leather. Blood. Say what you will, there’s something in the air.

1. The Crow

Words fail to explain, but there’s some undeniable force in this movie that will not be stopped. It goes beyond the prototypical plotline, characters, special effects, and even goes beyond the freakish on-set death of Brandon Lee. Take extreme love and extreme hate, mix it in a cocktail, and drink it down with the lights off. Welcome to your catharsis.

Honorable Mention:

Bloodfist – Fuck the CGI and levitation wires of today, this is how martial-arts fight-to-the-death movies should be done.

Affliction – Two brilliant acting performances by Nick Nolte and the late James Coburn mark this harrowing gem of a movie.

The Shape of Things - Neil LaBute strikes again.

Twelve Monkeys - A worthy adaptation of La Jetee.

Vanilla Sky - One of the few instances where a remake bests the original (Abre Los Ojos).

Branded to Kill – Despite being filmed over 40 years ago, this tale of a yakuza hitman on the run from Japan’s “No. 1 killer” remains one of the most innovative action movies ever made.

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / June 12, 2008

A very frank and often hilarious conversation with Neil Strauss on his experiences following the publication of The Game, courtesy of AJ and Jordan from Pickup Podcast.  Click below to listen:

Part 1 of the Neil Strauss Interview
Part 2 of the Neil Strauss Interview

 -The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / June 21, 2008

The Boston Celtics are World Champions.

The Boston Celtics are World Champions.

I’ve waited 20 years to say that.

Yet somehow I imagined this experience would feel more rewarding.

I watched my first NBA game when I was 5 years old. I don’t remember too much, other than a) the year was 1988 b) it was a Celtics-Lakers night game at The Forum c) it was on CBS, and d) the Celtics lost. Worst of all, at that precocious age I spent most of the game rooting back and forth for both the Celtics and the Lakers. Yeah—don’t look at me.

I officially began bleeding green during the 1988-1989 season, or the season when the proud Celtics dynasty began to crumble. Bird missed most of the season with injury, Chris Ford was head coach, the Celtics finished 42-40, and things looked desolate as all hell. Though the Celtics would somewhat rebound over the next few years, they never made past the second round of the Playoffs during the remainder of the Big 3’s reign.

I remember Bird’s final game, a Game 7 loss in the semi-finals against the Cavs. My lasting memory of Larry Legend is of Bird leading a fast break, where he faked a behind-the-back pass before hitting a runner at the top of the key. The NBC announcers hooped and hollered, referring to the play as one of Bird’s final tricks. And like that, my only childhood idol was gone.

I still believed. My folks didn’t have cable, and I lived a hair out of reach of the Boston local TV stations who broadcasted the game, so I would listen in to each game on the radio with the fervor of the young minister in There Will Be Blood. I would pound my fists on my desk in a 2-beat DE-FENSE chant, which annoyed the living end out of my older sister.

Hope resurfaced with a young Reggie Lewis. But he died.

Then came M.L. Carr.

A 15 win season.

Rick Pitino.

That’s when I gave up.

* * * * *

I met Greg V. my freshman year of college. The kid had the misfortune of beginning his devotion to the Celtics during the worst years of the franchise, i.e. the M.L./Pitino years. But there was something spectacular behind his belief in the Celtics. Something that made those who had fallen off the path recover their lost faith. Only one question remained: would the kid be leading us to salvation, or would he be a pied piper leading us off a cliff into eternal darkness?

* * * * *

Fast forward seven years.

The Celtics and the Lakers. You can’t write this shit any better, right? A network advertiser’s wet dream.

You fucking knew. You knew this was going to happen. Like the Sox vs. the Yankees in ’04, the Celtics would have to take down its biggest rival to reach the promised land.

And after Game 4, when The Truth set us free, you knew the series was over. A mere, fucking formality. The only question would be when.

* * * * *

Johnny Most is dead.

Red is dead.

The Garden is no more.

The Celtics have cheerleaders, er, I mean, a dance team.

Players on rival teams hug each other after a game.

The Game has changed.

Reality has set in. Beating the Lakers in 2008 is not the same as it would have been in 1987. That unabashed jubilation I expected was not there. Maybe all I wanted was a final taste of childhood happiness. Maybe all I wanted was to rewrite my emotional history. Maybe I’m just a morbid fuck. Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I’m amazed.

Or maybe this 17th Banner is more of a closure than a celebration. Maybe we can finally put to rest the spirits of Game 4 in the ’87 NBA Finals, the passings of Len and Reggie, the decline of the Big 3, and the death of Red. Maybe a new door has been opened.

Maybe it’s time I stepped through it.

-The Boston Bachelor

BY THEBOSTONBACHELOR.COM / June 12, 2008

Alright folks, hot off the presses, here’s our exclusive tribute to the greatest Celtic of the past decade and a true Boston sports icon: Paul Pierce, a.k.a. “The Truth.” The man has shown his toughness and devotion to the franchise, and it’s about time he deserved some respect. This one’s for you, Paul. Bring home that 17th banner. For a limited time only, get your Paul Pierce “The Truth Shall Set You Free” shirt now.