The orgasms I cause are like terrorist attacks: unexpected, rare and they leave you emotionally drained.
I don’t ask a lot from women (or at least from my wife):
• Don’t try to carry on a conversation when I want to sleep
• Tell me if you are buying something more than the usual stuff (groceries, gas, etc) so I can make sure we have enough in the checking account for the minor things, like utilities and the freaking mortgage.
• I leave the house at 4:30 AM and come in at 6:30 PM. You are home without the kids from 8 AM til 4 PM. Is it totally unreasonable for me to hope that you will make a dinner more frequently than every alternate leap year? I’m tired of making meals that we eat at 8 PM or of picking up fast food.
• Don’t buy more shoes. It looks like a Payless Shoe Store outlet in your closet. Actually, it’s taken over my closet and the front hall closet. I own a total of 8 pairs of shoes: gym shoes, sandals, one brown pair, one black pair, one pair of dress shoes, one pair of winter boots and two pairs for yard work. At last count you had (no exaggeration) 92 freaking pairs. You’re not a centipede.
• I understand that your medication reduces and almost eliminates your sex drive. However, it does not eliminate my sex drive. I’m sick of taking matters into my own hands. Even if you took matters into your own hands once in a while would be OK. And, yes, I mentioned it to you before. And before that. And before that.
• I know you don’t like my parents. I don’t like them either. But don’t get pissed at me because they are assholes. I was smart enough to leave them.
• Please, please, please carry your freaking cell phone. It’s amazing how compact and light they make them nowadays. It’s almost as if they think you will carry it in your purse or your pocket. Wow! What a concept!
My orgasms are like terrorist attacks, too…they knock down buildings, and someone usually gets arrested.
Don’t expect me to know what you’re thinking without at least a hint. In the past for and a half years, my record for mindreading is approximately 0 for 37,219. It’s not going to get any better; in fact, the potential for spontaneous acquisition of psychic abilities drops after the age of 30.
You are beautiful. Your hair, however you do it; your clothes, as I say “It ain’t the wrapping paper, baby…it’s the present! rowr!”; your shoes, as long as they’re comfortable. It doesn’t matter to me what you wear, can we just fucking GO already?
When the washing machine is going, the dryer is running and I’ve got water pouring into the sink, I cannot hear you from upstairs. Please come downstairs to talk to me.
Pick your fights in the early evening, please. Four a.m. is not a good time to start a “discussion.” Especially on those rare days when I have to wake up early.
My exes were part of my life. Years and years and years ago. If I mention their names in passing, please get over it. I’ve MET some of your exes, and I’m cool with them.
Thank you for shopping smart. You know where to get a bagful of clothes for under $10. That’s great for saving money, and I know that you wear what you get, but we don’t have any more room for your clothing! Last I checked, my side of the clothes rack hasn’t been getting emptier, so please don’t encroach.
The flip side of that is: Do not try to give me advice when all I’m looking for is sympathy and support. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but while your sympathy and support are wonderful, your advice generally sucks ass.
That’s not quite the same for women, you know. When a woman’s man yells at her, it might, just might, be a prelude to Mr. Hand turning into Mr. Fist. She’s somewhat justified in hating and fearing it.
One element of the “Men are from Mars” theory is that when a woman tells her man her problems, he always assumes she wants advice from him, when all she really wants is a sympathetic ear.
Could I please touch you and you touch me without it meaning SEX, please? Sometimes you just want a backrub or a hug or whatever. Physical touch does not equal sex–not every time.
Could you listen? You know, when I am leaving at 0500 and need you to get the kids off to school–there are things that need to be done. Please don’t call me at work, after I’ve told you what to do and ask again. You get mad when I write it out–so LISTEN.
Your work is not more important than my work. yes, you make more. But I still have to answer to a boss. I cannot call in just because you want to go to the skybox for the Bears with some of the guys from work.
If I tell you that I am just plain mad–I don’t need to work it out, talk it out etc. Leave me alone and let me kick something. I might just kick you. (kidding). Yes, I am female. I’ll tell you when I need to hash something out.
(I cannot imagine 92 pairs of shoes. That is just freaky)
That’s fair. In return I’d like a little deep understanding and compassion WRT the fact that to a guy, sex is like food: A necessity, not a luxury, and when you lack it you can think of little else. (I mean psychologically, of course, I know nobody ever died of blue balls.) And a woman who uses that to manipulate men (into anything other than sex) is only slightly less contemptible than a rapist, IMO.
Goddammit, this one drives me insane. Lying in bed with the lights off and your eyes closed is not the signal to start talking about mundane shit in any culture I’m aware of.
On a related note, when I ask “How was your day?”, I don’t mean the excruciating details of every last millisecond. Jesus, I don’t even care that much about my own day.
I didn’t mean that in a condescending way at all. And what does my sex have to do with the determination of if I was being condescending or not? Honest question.
Listen, I think that a vast majority of guys would love to be approached in a straightforward manner.
“Honey, can you please clean out the garage? I’ll give you a nice blowjob when you get done.”
Even though they fully and completely understand they are being led around by their dick, they think it’s a good trade off.
So all men are led around by their dicks, but the women who do the leading are as contemptible as rapists. Heck of a double standard you have there, kiddo. Hope it’s working out for you. :dubious: What is a girl to do, ignore all those dicks lying around just waiting to be turned into leashes?