Muden Gets His Swag On.

Swagger gets you laid.

It seems direct enough, and when you approach it logically swagger can only be defined as being a Don Juan of sorts with the ability to melt women at the mere thought of your swag. 

The problem, however, is two fold. A) This definition requires the use of the word being defined to be explained, and B) I don't have swagger by this definition. I want to have swagger. No self respecting 6 foot 4 manipulator of the written word and dancer of the Salsa can walk around not having any manner of swagger. The next step down is walking out of the mens room with toilet paper trailing out of your jeans, and I'm just not ready to go there yet. If Jay Leno can have swagger then so help me God I must have it. 

So I went and spoke to my long time friend, and Kracker Nutt brain child, Eddie Tantintgco. Tantinko? Tangtripyo? Clearly a man of great swag appeal (his girlfriend is smoking hot), I figured he would be my swag appeal spirit guide.

He was not.

We spent an hour comparing Google Chrome to the new Mozilla Firefox, discussing the nature of absorbing business practices and models from every employer we have ever had and lastly what class we would be playing on Diablo 3. Guys with swag don't discuss nerdy things and then eat a bowl of Pho before going home and feeding their rabbits. Eddie did make a few valid points that put the whole thing into perspective however. "When you were a promoter you had swagger." He offered through a mouthful of noodles (which looked very swaggalistic). "It just hadn't been branded as such yet." If returning to that lifestyle will get me a date with Olivia Wilde then call me Hunter S. Thompson and send this one man wolf pack to Vegas baby!

The next swag professional on my journey was a guy whom my call announcer has dubbed, "Poptropico." Poptropico, or Procopio if you know the guy, is one of the founders and strongest supporters of the swag movement. I knew this guy had real swag appeal because instead of having an actual conversation with me, he just kept shooting one liners at me like, "My swag is so stupid you can call me Kelly Bundy." Clearly the key to swag appeal is creating your own brand. 

Done.

"The ladies call me Modem."

Instant swag. 

Procopio quickly branded my brand lame, and explained that what I was looking for was a lasting impression for women to walk away with. "Your swagger has to make them remember you even if they have a man." This seems counterproductive to me. I thought the point of swag was to go straight from hello to crazy monkey sex. By his definition I could just pee on her car and the next week we would be having babies. Three of them. Side note: Peeing on your crush’s car is sure to lead to citizenship! Alternatively you could just say hello but I feel like this would be a much better idea.

The last stop, and final hope of swaggerlistic salvation was my editor, Beena Yusuf. I called her while driving my black BMW, wearing Guess jeans on the way to the bar. By all previous definitions, I was the towering pinnacle of swagger rolling on $1,200 worth of tires. She readily disagreed. “First of all, swagger is lame. You will never hear a woman tell her friends that some guys swag really turns her on.” Truly, she was crucifying any hope I had of reaching swagger nirvana. “And why are you looking for swagger anyway? You have tons of swagger, Muden.” I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. “Just be yourself. You make women laugh. You are a genuine person. That’s what women want.” Anyone else would have taken the compliment and ran with it. But she just told me I had tons of swagger so I felt the need to press the matter. “That’s what you want in a man.” I retorted, quite pleased with myself. “Not all women want the same thing.” She paused for a moment, no doubt overwhelmed by the weight of my swagger.

“The women you want to spend your life with want the same thing everyone else wants. This idea of swagger, if I can address it without saying it’s a real thing, is basically how good a guy is it at getting some.”

I agreed with this which made her happy and we hung up. Turns out I do know what women want.

At the end of my journey I still had no swagger to speak of. I had however discovered the path to attaining said trait. A feed sack full of cocaine, funny one liners and the desire to run down the street yelling, “The ladies call me Modem!”

In truthfulness, I do not know that swagger can be defined as a singular, defining character trait. In the book of Muden, the only one that really matters, swagger is the loose grouping of various personality traits and physical habits that attracts a woman to a man. That being said, every woman would have her own definition of the swagger that she is searching for. Or, simply stated, a type of guy she is attracted to. There is the “bad boy swag” personified by Poptropico, the “popular guy swag” personified by Eddie Tantigckoyo and finally my own version of swag. The grouping of my many personality traits all rolled into one all enveloping adjective. “Funnyhappyloyalhungryambitiouseducatedthoughtfulsarcastic swag.” Or as I like to call it, “The Modem Swag.” It may not get me any one night stands but I’m sure Meghan Fox will appreciate it. 

Yes, I Am Listening.

This is frustrating because I never know what to say when the subject comes up. This is frustrating because I hate laying my deeply ingrained personal issues onto someone else, as inevitable as that may be. I did not want to write this, much less on a public forum, but there is something that needs to be said and a responsibility to do so. Especially after all this time. Especially now that when we should have been forgotten you are still letting loose your tongue.

I suppose I should have said upfront how juvenile I thought the whole thing was. I should have told you that I thought you were a closet prude and not because you were afraid of intimacy but because you have the emotional availability of a mentally handicapped rabbit. There is a reason some people are never in relationships. I should know, I spent too much time with one. They never say no. Never commit. Never give a reason. They just drag people through the motions until one of the parties gives up and walks away. I can only assume that no one had ever walked away from you before and that is why you felt the need to tell everyone how madly in love with you I was. That must be why you are telling people you broke my heart and that's why I just stopped talking to you.

So after all this time of ignoring your game I stand in a place where the echoes of your words are directly effecting my life. And while I do not wish to hurt you any more than I assume I have, I can not stand here and take the lashings any further.

The truth of the matter is we never dated. We were talking. We shared a Coke once. We went to the park a few times. We hung out here and there and we once almost kissed. I told you what I wanted and you told me what you did not want so I kept it affable. When you edged closer to me I edged further away out of respect for myself and the emotions I did not wish to get involved. I grew tired of your insistence that you wanted nothing of a relationship while your actions spoke otherwise and so I walked away. I was not rude about it. I never spoke negatively of your character. I gave no false impressions when your friends inquired as to what happened.

Yes, there was a time when I humored the idea of a relationship with you. Even if for only a short time. But we did not take that path and it took less than an hour for me to move on. I would ask that you please do the same.

- Muden