11 Aug 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 4 Comments

Dr. Anton Zegoyavich Demands Refund from AshleyMadison.com

“They sent me a snake! I assure you! Do not be fooled by appearances!”

PLEASE NOTE: Within the past few days my blogging has been stymied due to certain unforeseen events. This has led to psychiatric reactions that should be within my control, but still aren’t, which is why remain in therapy. Posting will resume tomorrow — after my electro-convulsive therapy and Haldol injections.

UPDATE: It’s the next day and I have decided, instead, to give my cats the Haldol and skip the ECT altogether.

So Anton and I chat…

AZ:

They sent me a snake!

J:

Anton, please calm down. What exactly happened?

AZ:

The thing came to me in the night, like something that hunts in the cover of darkness. Oh, yes, beautiful. But, beware my friend, beware. This is no ordinary creature. Not at all. No sir. Not ordinary in the least.

J:

What could possibly be so horrible about a beautiful married woman they sent you? I mean they didn’t even send a hooker, for Christ sake! You paid a basic membership fee!

AZ:

Ah ha! You immediately called it woman. How do you know what it was? How can you be sure?

J:

The website targets married people who want to have affairs. They don’t do anything other than provide the website. The rest is up to you. They had nothing to do with your hook-up.

AZ:

What is ‘hook-up?” You think for a minute I would waste my vast array of skills on foolishness? This is the ploy they use, but it is useless with me, you see.

J:

Anton, they didn’t do anything. You did. You obviously contacted some desperate married woman, sent her a fake photograph and lured her out here into the desert. My guess is that you intended to inject her  and she ran, but probably the moment she met you. Is this the photo you used?

[jpeg of 22-year old college athlete sits on his desktop next to his schematic of The Atomic Table of Elements.]

AZ:

Do not dare to insult me, I warn you! The snake came at me like a wild animals and attempted to strike!

J:

You lied to her, and then attempted to assault her with your completely illegal experiments! The last woman is still on morphine!

Did you try to stick her?

AZ:

I don’t use such crude terminology. I will not even acknowledge it!

J:

I had to bail you out of jail for sticking that hooker with python cells, which almost killed her, by the way. And if the authorities could find you, you’d be behind bars for the rest of your life.

AZ:

I have already expressed to you my feelings about these feeble beings. I have no interest in them.

J:

Well they have a great deal of interest in you.

AZ:

The woman should be proud of her sacrifice. Enough about this! Let us move on.

J:

Let’s talk about Ashleymadison.com. You have demanded a refund on your initiation fee, but you paid with a stolen credit card and used a phony mailing address.

AZ:

I called a hooker from there. A true thing of interest, I assure you. I told her to come here right away to pursue matters of mutual interest.

J:

Who’s mutual interest? She though she was coming out here to meet a handsome young athlete for sex.

AZ:

How dare you! Be careful, I warn you. I know what you are saying!

J:

Where’s the black eye come from? The woman probably punched you and then ran for her life.

AZ:

I am completely and finished with this discussion in its current form. I will have absolutely no more of it.

J:

Why would you contact a service like Ashley Madison in the first place?

AZ:

I found myself somewhat fascinated. That is all.

J:

Anton, were you trying to get laid?

AZ:

Don’t dare say that! I am warning you for the last time!

J:

You were trying to connect with a woman in a sexual way, weren’t you?

AZ:

Stop that! My research comes first and foremost! Why I must repeat this time after time is unbelievable to me.

J:

I dunno…23, flawless ass, sexy, unfulfilled…it just kind of begs the question.

AZ:

Believe what you will! The fact that I remain quite virile, I assure you, and astounding to many women, is of no significance here.

J:

Anton, women like guys with money no matter how good looking they are, or aren’t…just to put things in proper context.

This would include women from AshleyMadison.com who aren’t looking as much for affairs  – which they can find at any neighborhood grocery store – as much as they are looking for better living arrangements.

All this leads me to question your real motives. Is this about research or is it a desire to connect?

AZ:

I have no idea what you are saying. Our conversation is at an end, I am afraid.

J:

It’s funny how the things we don’t say are the very things that define who we are.

AZ:

OUT!!!

[To be continued…]

06 Aug 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 1 Comments

The Blessings of Feminism

Here at ground zero of jayrusovichlive.com we talk about things: life, therapy, drug addiction; there’s quite a bit of analysis that goes on. The cost/benefit analysis with regard to, say, a hooker versus a stripper, or a wife versus a hooker, or whether or not it’s just better to get a “Fleshlight” and call it day.

I’ve heard this device will be available on Amazon soon, so be on the look out for it. It serves its purpose and does so in disguise, which makes it a prime candidate for the JRL stamp of approval…but I digress.

Today my office counterpart, Yvonne, was taking a walk in Memorial Park with a friend, and like all you women, they were discussing men. Women are ALWAYS discussing men. We’re fascinating creatures, after all. As predictable as we are obnoxious.

So the girls are chatting away about a man’s concept of the future, and how it plays into whether or not women should date them. My personal opinion is that she just needs to put on some muscle, keep her regular appointments at the Steven Merrill Salon, and learn the fine art of submission.

I also think I may be threatening my own existence and will soon be forced into hiding when she reads this. Of course, I’m going to post it anyway, if, for no other reason, than self- preservation has become an abstraction…thanks to my arrested development, which has rendered me immortal.

Yvonne’s stance is that you can ask a man a few specific questions and get a pretty picture of how he sees his life. If that picture looks relationship-friendly then maybe he’s worth dating, or at least considering in the context of commitment.

However, if the guy can’t come up with anything, you really have to consider the possibility that he doesn’t really want anything more than a piece of ass, which he’ll never admit anyway.

Crass, yes. Male, yes. Relationship-friendly, no.

Maybe you’re different. You could be the one who changes his mind and helps him see there is life beyond the kill-zone; that blessed gift to men underwritten by feminism. I’m a pro-feminist, by the way. Let me grab my JRL approval stamp and smack the great ass of feminism. But again, I digress.

Anyway, while Yvonne was doing her cardio, which is her obligation to men if she wants men in her life, a woman chimed in, “You know it doesn’t change, no matter how old they get.”

Yvonne and her friend turned to see a slender, older woman making her way around the 3-mile track.

“Even when they’re 50 they act the same way. You have to know where you stand with men. If they can’t come up with a decent vision of the future that resembles something you’re interested in, take them at their word – because that is their word [as opposed to women, where there might also be several other words they withhold for various reasons], and walk.”

There’s a reason you don’t have a minimum wage job, honey.”

03 Aug 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 2 Comments

Is There No End to This Vitamin Insanity??? [never mind everything else we pile on as we age...]

When I was 18 I didn’t know what a vitamin was. Now they tell me if I don’t take them I’ll suffer everything from Alzheimer’s to Psychosis. It’s too late to do anything about the later, but the Alzheimer’s thing really bothers me as it may have an adverse effect on my ability to fully enjoy the other one.

When I was 18 the only things you could find in my kitchen cabinet were Fritos and Alka-Seltzer.

Now I can’t count the vitamins, whole grain cereals, protein supplements and array of pharmaceuticals that line up like survival essentials for soldiers in a foreign war.

I have something for everything.

Unfortunately, the only ones that I know actually work are Tylenol…and sometimes, Thorazine.

As for the rest of them, I’m clueless. People say they can’t hurt, so I take them. Tell this to an 18 year old and he’ll just stare into space like everyone else his age, jacked up on Ritalin.

At 18, none of this mattered, and I was fine even when I wasn’t. This is principally because I was immortal, like everyone else I knew. Death was an abstraction.

If I had the flu, I got out of class. I didn’t die. It was kind of a positive thing. I had no idea what I was supposed to eat because it didn’t matter what I ate as long as I did, occasionally, eat.

At the age of 20, I experienced symptoms of heat stroke [stars, little green men] while biking in the Arizona desert. Of course, I was dehydrated, and for all intents and purposes, dying. But I didn’t freak out about it. I just set out to find water, which I did, and then everything was fine. Later that night I went to a keg party and got laid.

Fast-forward to 50 and put me in the same situation, only this time I’d have a full-blown panic attack and die of heart failure before the dehydration has a shot at me.

So all this raises the question, should I be dead?

And is the fact that I’m not somehow tied to all these pills? Or is it my attitude towards pills and life in general?

If I feel fine, am I fine? Or is the fact that my body is older, thus my susceptibility to death and dying greater?

If the later is true, then why take the vitamins at all?

Maybe I just know too much. This is why people flock to Yoga where they can learn to unlearn everything and become nothing all over again.

Back to the vitamins, why do a quarter of magnesium supplements fail quality tests, with some providing less than half the promised amount?

If supplements reduce the risk of cancer, then why do 40% of green teas and selenium pills fail labeling tests?

In my view they don’t actually fail. See, you still buy the products, so they succeed. Fail is a relative term that’s kind of a buzz kill on the whole concept of eternal life, which keeps slipping as we age, and keeps us strung out on the products.

Just for the fun of it, here are some recent headlines about vitamins:

“50-Fold Dosage Range Found Across Vitamin D Supplements.
Pick the Right Dose and Form. Avoid Defects.”

What do they mean by, “defects?”

“Be Aware of K1 and K2 Potency Differences!”

What’s K1 and K2? Should I know this? Will it have some impact on my sex life?

“What Dose of CoQ10 to Take? What Form to Use?
New Report Gives Guidance — 39 CoQ10 and Ubiquinol Supplements Tested.”

Ubiquinol?

“How Does Your Nutrition Bar Stack Up? Tests and Comparisons of Bars for Energy, Fiber, Protein, Meal-Replacement, and Snacks…”

I thought they were nutrition bars?

“Major Differences Found in Cholesterol-Lowering Red Yeast Rice Supplements. Statin Levels Vary 100-Fold; Contamination in 4 of 10 Products.”

I don’t think I know a soul who knows what the hell Red Yeast is.

“Adulteration Suspected with Some Memory Supplements
Ginkgo, Huperzine A, and Acetyl-L-Carnitine Supplements Tested.”

The term, “adulteration,” seem bad in this context.

“Trouble Sleeping? Melatonin May Help
See Which Melatonin Supplements Passed CL’s Tests!”

What’s “CL’s” test? Craigslist?

“Many Probiotics Lack Expected “Helpful” Bacteria.”

I though bacteria was a bad thing.

“Vitamin C Supplement Found With Less Than Half of Claimed Amount; Some Exceed Tolerable Levels.”

Tolerable levels? Since when can you overdose on Vitamin C?

“Problems Reported with Generic Antidepressant. Tests Show Generic Bupropion Behaves Differently Than Original Wellbutrin XL.”

So now the drugs themselves have differing behaviors? Am I reading this wrong?

……………………

So why am I talking about this instead of all the other things I get myself into?

Because I’m not 18, and don’t do yoga.

27 Jul 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 0 Comments

Marriage: One Couple, One Life…One Person?

Some people are wired for monogamy.

They’re comfortable with “content.” Pushing endorphins through the roof isn’t what keeps them out of mental hospitals. It never did. They don’t need the fire, the unpredictability, and the chaos of life out on the perimeter.

They just pass the baton to their kids and ignore the crows lining their power lines whenever they wander outside alone to stare at the stars and wonder what happened to the person they used to know. The one who still uses their name, social security number and physical mailing address.

This is where Xanax comes in handy, or the hooker housewife from AshleyMadison.com.

But these are the unmentionables. Even thinking about such things in the presence of crows is exactly why they’re sitting up there in the first place.

With this in mind, I actually do know people who accept married life for what it is. And most of them have never heard of ashleymadison.com, nor would they care. Their libido’s beat to a different drummer; someone who’s on vacation a lot.

It’s like they’re from some far away place back in history.

I see bookshelves filled with names like James Patterson, Tom Clancy and Sue Grafton. As an added bonus, one might also find a copy of Moby Dick and the poetry of Henry David Thoreau.

But you’d be hard-pressed to locate a DSM-IV, Nietzsche Anthology, or anything by Woody Allen, for obvious reasons.

I feel a little lost in their presence. Disconnected. Like I’m peering into another galaxy where the physics is different. Time seems like an endless flow of overlapping circles, rather than hard angles all pointing in different directions.

So I’m an outsider, a perceived threat; like a virus that’s looking for a way in. I’m dangerous because I mention the unmentionables. Think the unthinkable. Step outside the boundaries of what maintains this alliance.

Just imagine ragged concrete against the delicate surface of a water balloon, if that helps.

[unconscious dialog]

What exactly does he want here? I can’t predict his comments. He has to be contained because he hasn’t signed on to this world. He’s not one of us. And whatever loose pieces reside within us, he’ll exploit. Ours is a world of serenity, through which we see the rest of life; the one we want to see because we have to see if this is to continue.

I’ve always found it interesting how married people like this interact with me. I like to play, who’s the psychotic? Because they are so interconnected, so intertwined and so emotionally indistinguishable that I feel as though I’m embroiled in some weird, low level warfare with one – rather than two – creatures who carefully scrutinizes my behavior before deciding whether or not to change the locks.

21 Jul 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 0 Comments

Dr. Anton Zegoyavich Accused of Injecting Human Female with Stem Cells from a Burmese Python.

Zegoyavich at 63.

Zegoyavich: [speaking to me]

“Fools!”

“I have explained myself clearly enough. I am not interested in suspending my pursuits over some inconsequential legal or moral construct. Humanity rests in the balance of my work. Why everyone isn’t on their knees shocks me.”

Jay:

“Anton, from what I understand…”

Zegoyavich:

[cutting me off]

“You understand nothing, I can assure you! What they say is preposterous in its ignorance!”

Jay:

They claim you stole someone’s snake and then used its stem cells in a live human being against her will.”

Zegoyavich:

Be careful! I am not myself these days! My work is of a colossal nature, and completely alien to most. They are invisible to me! They attached metal devices to my wrists, kidnapped me, and then took me away to some horrific dwelling filled with animals!”

Jay:

“You mean they handcuffed you, placed you in the back of a police car, and then took you to jail?”

Zegoyavich:

“Even as they stand on the very edge of apocalypse I was chained like some base thing. I could spit! And your casual assessment of my misfortune is not lost on me, I assure you!”

Jay:

“Anton, you stole someone’s pet Python, killed and dissected it, extracted its stem cells, and then injected them into a woman you kidnapped from a nightclub in Las Vegas. That would constitute several felonies in a row…”

Zegoyavich:

“Stop that! I am becoming wild! I have no interest in trivialities! You and I speak from time to time because I perceive you to be somehow enlightened, perhaps a messenger from myself to the world. But today you sound foolish. They are affecting you. Beware!”

Jay:

“I am simply stating the facts…and bailing you out of jail for the 7th time, by the way.”

Zegoyavich:

“That tone doesn’t strike me correctly. Please identify your intensions!”

Jay:

“Anton…

Zegoyavich: [cutting me off, again]

“Stop with that ‘Anton!’ It is to be henceforth, Dr. Zegoyavich. I am not at all pleased at the moment!”

Jay:

“Dr. Zegoyavich, I have been your friend for a long time and have always believed in your work. I’m not here to judge or criticize you. I simply want to hear your version of what happened so that I can explain it to the authorities. They say you’re a deranged psychopath, and therefore, whatever you say is at best, unreliable.”

Zegoyavich:

“Who are these authorities in their amusing uniforms with metal trinkets in the shapes of make-believe stars? They are nothing but errant spores on an evolutionary thoroughfare. And not well adapted ones, I might add.”

Jay:

“Thank God the woman survived or you wouldn’t be leaving this place at all…probably never.”

Zegoyavich:

“Listen carefully to me. The woman was a necessary step in my process. She had no idea what a tremendous contribution she has made. I made her as comfortable as possible.”

Jay:

“You drugged her! And if given the choice, she would have had you arrested on the spot! She’s still in ICU on a morphine drip…not to mention the hallucinations.”

[as he continues to stare into space, apparently ignoring me, I persist…]

“Dr. Zegoyavich, the authorities don’t see things the way you do. And your work isn’t sanctioned by any medical body on the planet.”

Zegoyavich:

“Curious, this term, ‘authorities.’ What makes these people have such titles? Authorities over what? They are nothing to me. I laugh at these titles.”

Jay:

“You may laugh, but they’re deadly serious. Did you at least learn something from the experiment?”

Zegoyavich:

“In my travels and observations, I have noted certain similarities between human females and snakes of the constrictor family. There is a certain resonant psychology on a primal level that is easy to miss by the untrained eye…”

Jay:

“So I’m guessing you injected the python cells into the woman to see if her body would recognize the cells?”

Zegoyavich:

“Naturally. Have you seen the American movie, Frankenstein? The scientist in charge experienced a similar fate at the hands of people not unlike the authorities of today. They descended upon him with flames and knives and destroyed his home.”

Jay:

“Frankenstein is a work of fiction.”

Zegoyavich:

“I have seen it with my own eyes. How dare you tell me the beast didn’t exist!!!”

[end]

Note: People believe what they want to believe, even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, like alcoholics and narcissists. Having said this, the attending physicians at the hospital report that the woman is coiled up in a corner of the ICU with her eyes wide open, while Anton Zegoyavich is, once again, on the lamb; presumably in route to his laboratory somewhere in the New Mexico desert.

[to be continued…]

07 Jun 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 2 Comments

Typecasting Erectile Dysfunction.

GOD HELP ME!!!!!

No offense here, but are you kidding me? Talk about grand-standing on the part of the PC police!

What couple in any major American city looks like this?

No wonder the guy needs Cialis! The woman looks like she’s old enough to be his grandmother!

Does anyone actually believe that urban couples look like this?

In who’s nightmare?

By all means take the Cialis, but at least use it on someone who comes across as someone other than Aunt Matilda. I mean I’m sure she’s really nice and everything…and probably makes great cupcakes! but don’t even think about going there with the sex thing.

In reality she probably hasn’t had sex in 25 years, back when she was in her 40’s. This is just plain wrong. It’s an embarrassment to she and other nice older ladies like her.

You have to know the guy’s really dating someone half his age, probably 25 or 30. Hell I could see him with some hot 40-year- old, but do not try to foist this ridiculous bullshit on me or the rest of civilization in an attempt to manipulate us into believing this is real.

Madison Avenue is always trying to shift the paradigms in order to do what they think is right. By “right” I mean sell. But they’ve totally missed the mark on this one.  This is NOT what their demographic looks like.

First of all, these drugs are very expensive, which means that people willing to fork over hundreds of dollars per script are not going to be struggling auto workers in the middle of a recession. They’re going to be urban guys with large incomes and some money remaining in their battered portfolios.

This is the target demographic! Please don’t insult me with your wishful thinking! The person who wrote this ad is probably dating a stripper on 7th Avenue and 42nd.

Now, please note a corrected version of the truth in the below image. As the camera pans across the crashing surf [I hope the metaphor isn’t lost on you], a voice-over would read something like this:

Cialis is for men healthy enough for sexual activity, which would include everybody not on life support or a morphine drip. To be most effective, Cialis should also be taken when in the company of women young enough to remind men of their girlfriends and lovers, not their mothers or great aunt’s.

[Scene closes with a massive wave crashing on the beach as the man carries his beautiful young lover into some wooded area].

In conclusion, I’m simply standing up for truth in advertising. I don’t like it when people attempt to manipulate me with false imagery designed to pervert my perception of what’s in front of me.

While I can certainly see the woman in this first photograph in the company of a man in his 70’s, for example, the rest is just an affront to me and every other middle-age urban guy who’s convinced Madison Avenue is run by spinsters hell-bent on rewiring us to embrace their suicidal tendencies.

08 Mar 2009, Posted by jay rusovich , 0 Comments

The Psychology of Human Predation

“Many recently-divorced older men think I’m hallucinating when I use military metaphors in the context of dating. What they see is a beautiful young woman sitting next to them who is two years older than their youngest daughter, claims to have a Masters Degree in Biochemistry from Colgate, and can’t stop talking about how much she loves Ritz Carlton properties  — if only she could afford them.”

*******

Back in the days before the Great Divide, a time when the population of affluent middle-age single men flooded the streets of urban America with unprecedented expectations of personal sacrifice [in the form of sex and commitment] from the very generation it spawned, I wrote a book that would answer some of the period’s most fundamental questions.

Not that it did much good.

Because the same demographic that ushered in the era of Woodstock, Flower Power, Volkswagon buses – and eventually – stock brokers, was also responsible for skyrocketing sales of Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors, Erectile Dysfunctions formulas and pharmaceutical grade heroin, to name a few.

Anyway, one of the book’s pivotal arguments was that men simply stopped accepting the fact that they were aging, and instead, focused on youth, beauty and relevance as though they themselves were perpetually young, but with certain improvements. This mindset gave rise to virulent new strain of female opportunist obsessed with fine dining, first class travel and 5-star hotels, and the result was the creation of a new food chain.

As most of you know by now I’m referring to “soft targets” and the women who prey upon them.

Let’s review the basics.

“Soft targets” are older men who appear to be in a perpetual state of delusion when it comes to women. They assume that because their first wives loved them, and because they were successful in their careers, that they understand the most ruthless predator the world has ever known, including the Taliban.

This is why the most critical weapon in the endless war of urban survival is self-awareness…and why they need to lay off the heroin.

Self-awareness has nothing to do with the goddamned office, or how many times you got away with cheating on your doting wife. I’m talking about knowing yourself well enough to navigate behavior that has no discernable boundaries.

In other words, imagine yourself not coming home to your wife at all. Or just telling her you picked up a hooker and decided to spend the weekend at a Motel 6…and by the way, where’s dinner?

Am I getting through?

You must understand the game no matter how much you want to excuse your new girlfriend’s weird behavior for the sake of sex and the porous relevance it delivers.

You’re not necessarily going to die tomorrow just because you’re no longer twenty-five, so stop acting like it. The sad truth is that you probably won’t, which means you’ll have to figure out how to kill yourself before you end up under a bridge, which is an arguable scenario for a man who can’t distinguish perception from truth.

All you guys see is a beautiful young woman sitting next to you, who for some reason, is two years older than their youngest daughter and swears she has a Masters Degree in Biochemistry from Colgate.

That’s the first salvo, a maneuver otherwise known as the set-up.

She tells you something she knows you want to hear, but even more importantly, want to believe.

This is the real hook: what you want to believe. It’ll soften your fat ass up for the ultimate slaughter by allowing her access to your deepest recesses, which aren’t particularly deep as it turns out.

Some people refer to it as a suspension of disbelief; something one experiences when watching a movie. You go along with it. You get drawn in. And then it ends.   Conversely, when applying this mindset to a certain ilk of living human female, you go along with it. You get drawn in. And then you’re fucked. That’s the difference between a movie and reality; something lost on men who blur the lines.

Never mind that she has no traceable past whatsoever, or that she is in possession of two driver’s licenses with two different names – but the same picture, or has an aggravated battery conviction and post office box, only, in spite of the fact that she purportedly has an apartment somewhere.

Once the concrete hardens [belief becomes fact] it forms the foundation of a merciless assault.

There is no reasoning with these individuals. They crave the attention, the relevance…and the sex. The rest they deal with down the road. Many of these men are simply sex addicts with time on their hands to immerse their lives in the addiction. They’re so strung out on the endorphins they often come across as incoherent in the face of what is obvious to everyone around them.

Most of these women are just looking for a temporary respite from the storm. They know that men their own age won’t tolerate their insatiable appetite for self-gratification, so they take advantage of affluent older men who will. Women are also fortunate in that they have the ability to overlook physical flaws, or outward signs of aging, which makes them uniquely adapted to this form of strategery.

What men in these relationships don’t see is that while they’re intoxicated with the drug of youth, beauty and the fantasy of relevance, they are in the midst of implosion.

It happens in a similar way to sex addiction where the addict disappears for hours on end while his kids are at little league looking for their dad. Suddenly his family life suffers, as the splitting of lives hardens. One morning they get a phone call from the family attorney that hubby’s been arrested for soliciting prostitutes. In many cases it’s Merrill Lynch calling to say that they have to close his account because there’s nothing in it.

This is why most junkies die prematurely.

Unfortunately for those who don’t, they must go on long after the madness has taken permanent residence, and the woman who gave them their blessed gifts is now living with his stock broker.

Disclaimer: Not all young women are deceitful and opportunistic. Some actually enjoy the company of older men for obvious reasons. And many end up marrying and bearing children with them. It is also true that not all young men these days are jaded, self-absorbed, narcissistic, untrustworthy, disrespectful and overtly opportunistic when it comes to harvesting the spoils of generational feminism. But handsome and driven exceptions are hard to find, and for women who waited until their middle 30’s to marry, these men are virtually non-existent, hence, the older man.