There comes a time in every relationship when the love is strained. Every couple has their way of managing these shaky times. One of my favorites and usually the subject of many daytime television talk shows is when a couple thinks it’s appropriate to add another person. I’m talking about threesomes or menage a trois. Mixing it up a little seems to be a good treatment for an ailing partnership. I’m here to tell you that it is not.

The game of ‘plus one’ is dangerous. Men think that a shaky relationship can only be saved in the bedroom. His mindset is that if he can get her to “Oh face” one more time, things’ll be saved. But that’s the tricky part. Women think outside the box spring. A woman would sacrifice somewhat on the lovemaking side if it meant a man would treat her right.

But, a man thinks the word threesome automatically assumes that the girl he’s been fantasizing about at work is going to magically accept his gracious offer to sleep with him and his girlfriend or wife. Wrong. A man’s best chance at attracting another woman to aid his failing relationship is probably going to begin and end with a hooker. Like picking a puppy from a pet store, this method will most certainly bankrupt your budget and leave many piss stains on your rugs. Once you bring your new friend, Cinnamon, home to meet the fam, I’m sure you’ll find that things have already gone awry.

I must say, that nothing makes a woman feel more special than a spin around the bed with some other chick driving. Psyche. Women hate that. A girl wants to feel like she’s the only one in the world. Sleeping with you and your wife doesn’t accomplish that goal. Sleeping with you and another girl doesn’t do it for your wife either. My advice: don’t do this, you can’t make the bonds of love stronger by adding another person; it will only strain things further.

For women, however, salvaging a union with a threesome takes on another meaning entirely. Similar to men, the conquest begins in the bedroom. When women think threesome, they think baby. As wonderful as a bundle of joy can be, this is disastrous. For women, a baby signifies a milestone in life and shows the world that they’re fertile and responsible. This is a strong message to send to the bitches from high school. For men, however, a baby means extra expense. The man must work harder and more often to provide for his partner and his newly fashioned love child. As a result, he fills all of his time working and seldom sees the family he fights so hard to preserve. My advice: don’t do this either. Once again, adding another person to a strained relationship will only hurt your chances of sanctity.

A threesome in a strained relationship, no matter how you describe it, is tricky. If you’re serious about an open relationship or having a baby, make sure that the lines of communication as well as the bonds that tie are solid. It’s not a tool for fixing or enhancing. Threesomes are meant for ruining lives. That’s why the only threesomes you know of are from the porno you watch. If you’re having difficulties with your relationship, talk it out. Touch and feel and listen. If that doesn’t work, cut your losses. Chances are there’s a couple of baby makers out there looking to mingle.

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Every once in a long while, the animosity you bare for your fellow earthlings falls by the wayside.  You learn to live and let live and even love and get head.  I am convinced the formula for such change heavily relies on one’s ability to share.

I recently acquired an animal pet.  Her name is Tippi Nunu but I call her Nu for short.  She is black and white and pees in the sink.  I really like her and the story of how we found her is amazing.  As much as I like this cat, my old cat, Tookie or Grandpa for short, hates her.  Or at least that’s how it’s seemed since I brought her home.

For the first two months, they have been fighting and mangling each other in only the way cats can; loudly and with the removal of fur.  The points of contention are usually related to food or territory or fiscal responsibility.  Tippi says, “My space” and Tookie says, “I’ll claw your eyeballs out!  Facebook, bitch!”  And a kitty quarrel ensues.

The other day I awoke to the frisky felines contending over the warm spot between my legs (the place where my sleep-farts live).  At first it seemed like they were actually sharing the spot until I realized a thousand small incisions covering my shins.  Apparently, I was a victim of circumstance in their battle royal.

Today I saw Tookie and Tippi in one of the special cat beds I bought for them.  This is a scene I’ve seen before and, like those times before, I feared there may be blood.  Something unusual happened, though.  Instead of fighting for the small island nation of Catbedonia, the cats were sharing.  In fact, Tookie, my old, large, white sour-puss was licking Tippi, the smaller, blacker cat.

I was astonished so I took a video on my phone.  It was short lived, however, when Tippi made a sudden move that spooked ol’ Tookus.  He went from licking to biting in a matter of milliseconds.  I assume Tookie has marinating agent in his saliva that enables his fangs to sink more easily into skin.  I took video of that as well.  Completely amazing.  Regardless of the circumstances, they are making huge strides in sharing and love.  See for yourself…

The calamity that ensued…

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“Huh? Whoa! What are you doing?”

“I’m, ummm.  Let me just…”

“No, no, no!  You’re sleeping.  Get your hands off me.”

“C’mon, baby.  You know I love you.  Let me just kiss it one time.”

“You’re asleep.  You don’t know what you’re doing. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m even not sleep.  Let me just touch once.  C’mon, baby.  I’m love oo.”

“Everytime I say yes you either get half way through and collapse or you wake up half way through and yell at me.  I can’t bear it.”

“You know you want sthis me.  Juss gimme a kiss.”

“You won’t remember.  I’m not doing this.  I’m so tired!”

“I’m just gonna get some uh….this tasty. Mmmmm. C’mon now, I like to do it for you!  Baby…please?”

“Well, if you’re not asleep, I guess, maybe, uhhh!  Alright.  But make it quick, I have to get up in…uhhh…four hours.”

“Put me in.”

“Goddamn it!  You’re so flippin’ heavy!”

“Oh yeah.  Do you like it hard?  You make me so hard.  Oh, yeah.  This is so, so, so, so hot.  You’re so pretty, too.”

“You’re not even in.  Hold on, Jesus…there.”

“Oh yeah.  Is that the spot?  Oh yeah….huh?  Wha?”

“Are you awake now?”

“What are you doing?!  Ahhhhhh! What?  Get off of me!  Why am I all wet?  Ahhh!

“This happens every time! What are you doing?”

“Why do you do this to me?  It’s like you manipulate me in my sleep for your own pleasure!  Why didn’t you just wake me, we could’ve done this consentually?”

“What are you talking about?!  You woke me up!  Are you even going to finish?  WTF? I was so close.”

“I’m scared for my life!  You’re sick!”

“I can’t believe this.  Every time.  What is wrong with you?”

“I’m tired.  I’m going to sleep.  I can’t believe this.”

“Yeah, you can’t believe this.  I can’t even…uhh!  You’re a fricking idiot.”

“I know you didn’t mean that.  Goodnight.  I love you.”

“Where’s my Rabbit?”

“Oh, baby, that’s hot.  Let me juss touch it.”

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You may wonder, how?  The real question is how not?

You may wonder, how? The real question is how not?

“A man needs a woman like a fish needs a bicycle” is one of the best analogies I have ever heard.  Not only is this statement completely incomprehensible but it’s also misinformed.  I will explain why, for that very reason, this sentence is fantastic!  First of all, fish don’t need bikes, they’ve got their own means of conveyance.  It’s called current.  Also, fish need water to live.  Have you ever gotten your bike wet?  Good luck getting upstream with a rusty chain.  Attention all wannabe bipedal fish: If a rust bucket paperweight is your dream, you might as well absorb all the mercury you can and turn belly up.  Pathetic. 

Conversely, it is a true fact that every man needs a woman.  Guys are pigs.  They’re gross.  They eat gruel and fart and stir up trouble.  Women are clean and well-mannered.  Women are the world’s great equalizers.  When dudes are rowdy, chicks calm them down.  When the fellas are just kicking it and chillin, the ladies come into the room screaming.  If it were up to men, nothing would get done.  Lawns would go unmowed; gifts would go unwrapped, TVs would be watched.  If it were up to women, well, I don’t want to think about that.

To be perfectly honest, the only reason I’m writing this is because a woman is standing behind me with her finger on the trigger of a very sawed off shotgun.  Women take life seriously.  They’ve got things to do and people to do and guns to point.  And that’s ok with me.  If I didn’t have a strong motivational woman behind telling me to get up and get going, I probably wouldn’t.  What kind of life would that be?  That would be like a fish with a bicycle and that’s no good for everybody.  Regardless of what the statement says, I still like it.

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Communication is the key to a healthy relationship.  Its what separates dogs from other animals.

Communication is the key to a healthy relationship. It's what separates dogs from other animals.

I am no expert in the area, but I’ve been around the block once…if you know what I mean;)  I’m talking about commitment.  Sure, weird things happen in that “honeymoon” phase, but once you’ve moved on, you have to decide whether or not your partner(s)/animal/fetish is going to make it the long haul.  Do you think you’re ready to take the plunge?  See how your relationship habits stack up.  The following list pits the signs of a good relationship versus the signs of a bad relationship against each other to determine why all your relationships fail miserably.

Know Thy Self:

Knowing what kind of person you are will determine what kind of person you are looking for in a relationship.  Do have goals and ambitions?  Are you happy being a flake?  If you haven’t the faintest clue who you are or who you want to be, may God have mercy on us all.  Solid understanding of yourself provides you with the confidence and wherewithal to make healthy decisions that might otherwise demise your partnership.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
Listen for phrases like:-“I want to grow with you”

-“Let’s compromise”

-“I love you for who you are”

-“Yeah, I’m ticklish”

Look for insincere and extremely repetitive use of these generic phrases:-“I’m sorry”

- “You complete me/You are my rock”

- “Let’s never fight”

- “I don’t care.  What do you want to do?”

Opposites Attract:

Differences in personalities, likes, and dislikes all provide fuel for your love fire.  Part of a good relationship is the ability to grow together, not apart.  When people have competing ideas and meet challenges together, compromise is born.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-Your partner has inspired you to try new things-You and your partner work through problems together

-You are open to your partner’s ideas

-You hate morning breath and long toe nails-You love drugs, your partner is sober umpteen years

-You’re a cat person, your partner eats cats

Shared Responsibility:

Understanding that a relationship is a reciprocal cycle of give and take will help you navigate your way into a happy future.  If you’re unable to get your share of the work done because you’re bending over backwards to pick up his/her slack, you’re going to have issues.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-Your relationship feels like a team-When you come home from work and your partner has been home all day, the house is clean and vice versa

-You ask if you can help the other person and vice versa

-You think work is for suckers-You’re exhausted from getting too much sleep

-You don’t mind a dirty house

-You’re chiropractor says bending over backwards all of the time is taking a toll on your lumbar (also, You do all of the work)

Same Page:

Sometimes opposites attract, but you’d better like at least some of the same things as your best gal/beau otherwise your relation-ship is sunk.  You might sit on opposite sides of the political aisle, but if his/her dream is to be a senator, then you’d better be heading up the campaign.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-You are interested with your partner’s life outside of your relationship-You ask questions

-You actively listen

-You like VH1 and s/he hates TV-You like to get faded at da’ club and s/he likes reading the poetry at the café

-You like butt sex and s/he has hemorrhoids (rectum, damn near killed ‘em).

Future Plans:

S/he sees kids your future, but you see a boat?  Yeah, maybe it’s time to talk.  If your partner isn’t visible in your five-year-plan, maybe it’s time to rethink who your future includes.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-You’ve talked with your partner about the future-You have similar goals for the future (own a house in a year, own a dog in two years, add a 2nd dog in two and a half years)

-You can see yourself growing old with your partner

-You squander away your money and your partner’s money-Your partner is nonexistent in your future plans

-Marriage is not for you

-You’re in prison

Communication:

Some people fight to win and others fight to

share information.  The ability to effectively exchange ideas with each other while maintaining respect is paramount to a relationship.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-You feel like you’re with your best friend-You talk

-You listen

-You eat dinner in front of the TV-You’d rather your partner keep it down then you listen up

-When you talk, you can’t get a word in edge wise

There’s someone Else:

You talk until all hours of the night.  You think about him/her all of the time.  His/her d*ck is so young and thick.  You long to be together day and night.  If these are sentiments you hold for someone other than your partner, it’s time to break it off.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-There is no one else but your partner-You are seriously considering marriage

-Soul mate is an understatement

-There’s someone else-You stare at anything in tight jeans that walks by

-You love him/her, but you’re not in love

Sexy Time:

Sex is not the most important thing in a relationship but it is significant.  If you’re coming back for more after all this time, chances are things are looking bright.

Signs of a Good Relationship Signs of a Bad Relationship
-You and your partner have sex at least once every week or so-You love to give and receive

-You and your partner talk about and sometimes act out fantasies and turn-ons

-You don’t know what your partner looks like naked-Your pubic area is overgrown and overwhelmingly odoriferous

-Masturbation is better for you

-Your safe word is “rape”

Recognizing and implementing some of these good signs in your relationship is sure to give you the boost you’ll need to make it with that special someone.   If something’s wrong, however, chances are it’s you.  Get yourself in shape and try again.  There’s no sense in ruining somebody else’s life (and credit) because you’re a selfish jerk.  That’s not what a good relationship is about.

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I used to work for a property management company.  I leased apartments to suckers.  It was a sales job and I effen hated it.  I used to run home in tears from the monotony of pushing some serious units.  Now usually, I’m not a quitter (Read: I am a quitter with a huge, meaty vagina), but in this case, I wanted out.  However, I was afraid to quit, and I didn’t know how to tell the management I needed something else.  Fortunately for me and my lady parts (see about engorged vag above), the company decided to sell the property.  I felt it was the best time to get out without giving a two week notice or telling anyone that I was unhappy, thus saving myself the trouble of embarrassment.  It was through this experience that I learned something about sales that I would like to share with you today.  Through leasing these sh*tty apartments, I learned that for the most part, two things are true: 1.) Sales are apart of every job, and 2.) Unless you sell something that you really love, you are going to loathe it.  To combat this you need to love yourself and sell a product that everyone wants: you. 

Take a moment and consider every job you can think of.  Time!  What d’ya come up with?  At some point in all of those positions, you are going to be selling either a product, an idea, or yourself.  Businessmen sell ideas and products to investors and clients.  Teachers sell drugs to kids.  Hookers sell their bodies to businessmen for drugs.  And even if a job doesn’t directly entail some salesmanship, when you apply for that job, you are still selling your skill set to the employer.  You are a product of a material world.  Luckily it pays cash.  Cold, hard cash.  You have to be a provider, right?  If you don’t provide for yourself, you’re going to die sooner rather than later.  Remember all of those trinkets/candy bars/books/carpet samples you sold as a kid?  The system was priming you for the dog eat dog arena known as life.  Now rather than fight this reality (something I tried and it made me really angry; remember my tears?), you’ll need to embrace it.

Once you accept that you have to participate in a competitive world (which is something you have little choice over), then your survival depends on selling something you love.  For some folks, it’s the love selling sh*tty apartments.  For some, it’s selling their bodies.  For everyone, it’s selling yourself.  This is a task that takes a great amount of energy and self love.  (I have to point out it’s not the kind of self love that 5 minutes alone at the computer in an empty house with a bottle of Jergen’s and box of Kleenex can provide.)  You have to really like yourself.  If you don’t love what you’re selling, you’re going to hate the job.  If you hate what you’re selling and you are the product, you are going to hate yourself.  When you hate yourself or your image or your skill set, your buyers are going to recognize that and reject you.  If you are rejected by someone else, you’ll feel even worse about yourself.   The truth is, no matter how much you love yourself, you’re going to be rejected…a lot.  With the aide of self love, however, coming back from rejection is easier to do.

The cruel reality of this is that the world you live in is unjust and unfair.  Somewhere down the road, the key to your chance at personal success is held by another person.  Did you read that?  Your success is controlled by someone else!  That sucks big, old, hairy gorilla balls!  To be happy you can do and act and say whatever you want but you cannot control what other people think of you or how they react to you.  You do have the ability to control your attitude, however.  Your ability to sell yourself as a confident and hungry person is paramount to your personal success and happiness.  If other people aren’t buying it, they can eat a bag of d*cks.  There are many opportunities out there because people are always buying and it’s not hard to find them.  Buyers will buy you because they like you for who you are so long as you like you for who you are.

Sales is a brutal business and is impossible to escape.  If you’re not selling the filth you are absolutely passionate about, you are SOL my friend.  Your happiness and self satisfaction depends on it.  Your ability to sell yourself is one based out of the love that you have for yourself.  You’re ego is going to be beaten and bruised along the way, but remembering what is really important to you will keep you on your horse.  If you can’t manage to do that, you might as well pull the trigger now and save yourself the trouble.

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Let the bullsh*t fly!

If you want to live life right, you gotta let the bullsh*t fly!

Recently it was brought to my attention that the periodic reporting I’ve been doing on my life is  highly inconsistent from what is actually happening in my life.  I’m talking about fact checking, folks.  It’s happening.  And I’ve been called out.  In a big way.  I’m not going to lie to you; I’m a liar.  Big time.  I one time took an ice cream sandwich from a little kid because it looked delicious and he looked like a fart smeller.  Did I mention I’m also a jerk?   But, I don’t want to talk about that really.  What I want to address is a life philosophy that I hold high above the rest.  It’s based on consistency.  You know, consistency?  The art of speaking and doing and acting similarly in every occasion of your life because Jesus or God or Elvis told you so?  Guess what?  That sh*t is totally bunk.  Bunked up beyond belief, sucker.

You can have a strict set of guidelines and abide by the rules set in place.  You can play your game of life on a black and white polarized line of yes and no, right or wrong.  You can also poke you own eyeballs out with a big wet wiener.  If that’s what looks good to you, you are absolutely fooling yourself, dude.  Sure, there’s instances in life of complete clarity where in which the outcome of some action is absolutely determinable as good or bad, right or wrong, yes or no, wet or dry.  For example, do you want to go to the movies tomorrow with me?  Obviously yes (HP6 guy or ma lady).  Can I borrow a pair of your panties for a science project..P.S. I need to smell them?  Clearly huh?  You’ll never make fast friends that way.  What you’ve neglected to observe in the past is that the world is not always as easy as black and white.

The world is grey and bleak and red and bleu cheese dressings and ambiguous and confusing.  All at the same time and sometimes, all the time.  Wrap your little mind around that!  If you’re playing the Game of Life and your little car filled with all of your peg headed children fall out before you finish college and become a veterinarian, there is no clear answer for you.  There is no rule for that (actually there is, it’s on the inside of the box lid about halfway down on the right, but pay no mind to that).  You should pick yourself up and dust off your peg kids and finish the game, broken and bent.  Things are not going to be the same for you any more.

Given the circumstances life hands you, you’d better figure it out and quick.  No ones waiting for you.  If you want to make it as a decent human being, you have to put all of that Bible thumping, Good vs. Evil, hogwash to bed.  Think about this…Terrorist tucks her son into bed.  Hmmm?  Why is she a terrorist?  Easy.  Love.  So she kills and maims and rapes.  Her son is safe…for now: Look out! It’s gonna blow!  KABLOOEY!  But that’s her life.  That should be your life, too.  Pure instinct and devotion.  Inconsistent at best.

Let your emotions get the best of you and set your self free.  Don’t be a wiener.  Be a man.  Be an emotional person.  Not a dirty Christian.  The people that run an inconsistent operation are liberated from facts and their incessant checkability.  It’s that easy.  I can lie and steal.  I can love and help.  Let the bullsh*t fly.  I’m accountable for me and you’re accountable for you.  Now, let’s blow this place and go to the movies.

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Its Complicated.  You wouldnt understand.

It's Complicated. You wouldn't understand.

You’re 15.  You’re horny.  Your life is complicated.  Your mom says, “Hey, I know your father left because he loves his cheap trick whores better than this family, but I’m over it! Liberated!  This is your new step-father Rick or Tom or Gary or something similar sounding! and this is his son and daughter, the twins.”  This is what your mom says.

So you’re forced to move in with these douche bags.  You get the bedroom in the over sized laundry room near the water heater and cat litter box.  Your mom always barges in to do half a load of Rick’s softball uniform right when you’re about to jerk off.  That effin cat always ass dumps two pounds of poopy Friskies in the litter box at two in the morning and it smells like death.  You hate it.

Your mom doesn’t understand.  It’s complicated.  And that’s when you realize there are two other people your age living in the house.  “Finally,” you say, “someone to relate to.”  So you try to work it out with the twins, Skyler and Sophia.  It must also be complicated for them.

Skyler is cold.  Sophia is hot.  Smokin’ hot.  If only she weren’t your sister.  But technically, she’s not.  Physically, she’s developing nicely and evenly like a loaf of delicious 15 year old bread.  You learn over several short encounters she’s actually quite charismatic.  You start to fall for her.

You make every effort to talk to her and assist her and watch her shower.  You’re 15.  And in her young charming naivety, she begins to watch you and talk to you and fall for you, too.  Things are awkward for a while but she’s just as curious as you.

Then one night, after the cat dumps, she sneaks down to your room and confesses her confusion.  Your pants get tight.  She leans in and kisses you, hard.

It’s the seductive sh*t that the one porn you’ve ever seen that you stole out of Rick’s closet is made of.   Your relationship blossoms secretively as do Sophia’s young tender boobs (which you’ve touched).

You kids are hanging out and laughing and loving and touching and tonguing.  Everyone is getting along.  Mom and Rick seem to think everything is so healthy and the focus turns away from you to why Skyler is not bonding.

Rick thinks he’s gay.  Your mom thinks he’s a nice boy.  Unbeknown to you Skyler has been covertly watching your love charade.  He’s jealous.  That’s his sister your kissing…he wants that.

He tells your Mom.  Mom tells Rick.  Rick hits you.  Mom freaks out.  Restraining order.  Divorce.  With your pants still tight, it ends.  No more Sophia.  No more love.  Wow.

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