Our lives will often be defined by whatever flaws we have that we cannot overcome. My defining flaw is that I'm not smooth, in any sense of the word, with women. I can be made to look reasonably attractive, to reasonable females (and apparently, VERY attractive to unreasonable ones), and I can be funny in a social setting, so I can draw some attention in a group. One on one, though, I fail, and fail hard. If there's a worst possible thing to say in an intimate moment, I'll probably say it. Even worse, I'll think I'm being clever.
If a naked, beautiful woman said something to me like...
'I hope you don't mind, I usually give blowjobs before sex.'
I would likely reply with something like...
'Well, you can't teach an old dog new tricks.'
And then I'd wonder why she was angry, getting dressed, and leaving.
Part of the reason for this is that I just don't have much of a sex drive. On any given evening, I'm more interested in getting laughs than getting laid. It's not that I don't like sex, or that I'm too uncomfortable or awkward about it. Sex just isn't much of a motivator for me. When I was married, (I know, can you believe it? Technically, I'm still married... we can talk about that later) my wife would make me offers like...
'If you build me a new deck, I'll let you do whatever you want to me...' while she was wearing something sexy and doing a slow motion stripper shake.
I'd reply with things like...
'If you do the dishes and put away your laundry, I'll build you a whole theme park.'
Not super smooth.
How has this defined my life, you may wonder? Well, get a snack and call in late to work, because I'm going to tell you, and it's going to take a minute.
For starters, it means that I tend to hook up with aggressive, crazy women. In order to get through my weird, distracted skull, a woman has to practically start dry-humping my leg. Even then, I might very well just be like...
'I wonder what's going on here? Miss, do you need help?' It might not be until we make it to foreplay that I finally say to myself...
'Hey, I know what's about to happen here!'
It also means that when a woman and I decide that we're in a relationship, I tend to stay in that relationship until she leaves. Even when she cheats, spends all my money, lies to my family, and burns down the house, I'll just be thinking...
'I wonder which of us should cook tonight?'
I had the same girlfriend all through high school, and beyond. She was smart, sexy, athletic, and crazy beyond belief. She was a cheerleader, a dancer, a ski instructor, and a wrestler. Every guy in school wanted to be with her. Eventually, half of them were. Many people thought we would get married, and we probably would have, if she could have made it through an engagement party without giving a stranger a blowjob.
Eventually, she decided she'd rather cheat on someone else, and I spent many years single. I spent SO many years single, that by the time I was looking to 'settle down' again, all the available options had children, or looked to me like they were children. The woman I ended up with had two when I met her, three when we broke up. I was still just a stepdad. I actually liked her kids (still talk to some of them, occasionally), but I had to break up with her before she passed me an STD. I also worried about her drawing legal investigations... some of the kids she cheated on me with were young. I've never understand the attraction to 'young' people. I don't even look at anyone younger than the kids that have called me dad, which means that pretty soon my porn preferences will be moving from MILF to Mature.
By the time I was done with those two relationships, I was over 30 years old. In all that time, there had only ever been one woman that I was so irrationally attracted to, I had actually put effort into trying to hook up with her. None of that effort had ever worked at the time, of course, but apparently it had left some kind of impression, because around the time I was breaking up with the slutty cougar, that girl came looking for me.
In retrospect, that should have been a warning sign.
I had learned some things in my thirty or so years, so when our first real 'date' started to progress to 'intimate' talking, I skipped the talking and just kissed her. It worked, and we spent 6 very blissful years building a life together. Then, we got married, and the woman who took off the wedding dress wasn't the same woman who had put it on. She was tired of me less than 6 months after the wedding. To her credit, she at least only cheated on me with one guy (I think), though she did it over and over again, for months, while lying about it and accusing me of cheating. She asked me to leave our home, and I did. Then she blew all our money on her new boyfriend, got in a few officer involved domestic disputes with him, got her first DWI, lost her job, and asked me if I could move back into the house, while she moved out. In this time, I had started seeing my current (crazy) girlfriend (actually, mistress, if we're being technical about it), and she moved into this home with me. The house was a frat-party style mess, but in four short months of hard labor, we actually got it cleaned up enough to sleep in.
Around that time, my estranged wife got into a fight with one of her new boyfriend's ex girlfriends, and lost. Because she's a diabolical genius, she took the opportunity to call 911 and tell the dispatcher that I was threatening her, at my house, while she was on her way to my house. I wasn't even actually home at the time, I was working. My new mistress was at the house when the wife showed up, but she's not the confrontational type, so she called me, and left. I was lucky enough to get there just before the police arrived, and I left in handcuffs. It all got worked out that day, and I was home by dinner. 3 days later, however, police showed up with a restraining order, and forced the new mistress and I to leave the house.
It turns out that my estranged wife had been telling crazier and crazier stories to different judges in the area, until she finally found a family court judge that hadn't heard about her previous involvement with (and manipulation of) the law, and he granted her a restraining order, against me. The judge who was supposed to hear the case in 3 days had a death in his family, so my ex wife and her alcoholic friends had 27 days to ransack my house again. Three more days, and I would have had to legally evict her, which would have taken me at least another month.
I know we've wandered away from the comedy here, and into the bizarrely tragic. I don't know what to tell you... sometimes the story ain't always funny, but it's still a funny story. I laugh about it now.
While we're here, off-topic, I'd like to mention that if you think you're funnier than me, then maybe you should enter the COMmuity Comedy Rumble!
A lot of court appearances before a family court judge followed. The initial restraining order was vacated, and I was allowed to move back into my house, which was SO filthy this time that describing it would take a whole post of its own. She tried to get further restraining orders against me, despite the fact that we were only seeing or talking to each other during the court appearances that SHE was dragging us into, until finally I decided that I wanted her to have the restraining order. This REALLY confused the judge, who still didn't want to grant the restraining order, because it was clear that I hadn't actually done anything to her. He understood my reasoning, though, that if she HAD a restraining order against me, she wouldn't be able to keep dragging me into court, and it would keep her away from my residence. We decided in the end that I had called her enough names that he could grant the order based on 'verbal abuse.' Losing in court had never felt like such a victory.
It's been about 7 years since all that went down, and I have only had a few email exchanges with the wife since then. In true white trash redneck style, we're still legally married, and I have to tell you, it's the happiest our marriage has ever been. I'm still with the same mistress, but I'm afraid she may be getting tired of all the time I spend reading and writing comedy posts on Hive.
No sweety, I'm not cheating on you, I'm just trying to make my Hive friends laugh!
When we were first getting together, my mistress said to me:
'You know, as a woman turning 40, I'm just hitting my sexual prime.'
Ever the helpful gentleman, I had a reasonable reply:
'Maybe you should be looking for someone younger than me, guys tend to hit their prime between 18 and 20'.
This picture? This is something I found in a parking lot that I was tearing out for work. I've kept it for years, to hand to whoever on the job site was being a 'dick' that day. I find it wildly inappropriate, but immensely enter'taint'ing, so this is perhaps the most appropriate place for it.
