Marriage

FIRST MARRIAGE


O.K. you've been captured, she got you hook line and sinker; what happened? You were, at a nice party, or worse a wedding reception and bang you got yourself caught. If your not looking to get married stay away from wedding receptions; those women have their blood flowing, there in the hunt, and their competitor has just made a big kill; now they're hungry, and jealous.

There is nothing in the world more dangerous than the female species on the prowl for a mate; some one is going to be devoured; for a young single man, to go to a wedding is like waving a leg of lamb in a hungry lion's face, they will devour you.

So, you are the victim; you were innocently listening to the music to here comes the bride, and when you came out of the trance you realized too late, they were playing that horrible tune for you and your new bride.
It’s over you walked into her web, your life of being the carefree bachelor is over, you blew it; welcome to the real world; your about to discover what a lie so called marital bless can be.

Don’t try to figure out what happened, women can keep a guy in a daze for months, even years, what ever it takes to get him down the aisle she will do it.
If you try to figure it out you just may go nuts, or worse discover that maybe she used a bit of deception in catching you; women play by a set of rules called “by hook or crook.”
She had you over a few nights; her apartment was spotless. She cooked you a nice dinner; good wine, candles, soft music. You were thinking this is all right; you felt comfortable; your defenses went down, and she knows it. After dinner she does the dishes; her kitchen is squeaky clean; she pours you an after dinner cognac, lights your cigarette. You’re thinking to yourself “man I sure got this bitch under control.” she politely excuses herself to put on something that is a bit more comfortable.

She has set the trap; she re-enters looking like a model for cosmopolitan, silk gown with just enough showing to let you know there’s much more hidden under all that silk and lace, and it's all for your pleasure.

You've been hypnotized by a real professional, she pours you another cognac, and lights you another cigarette. More soft music; she slowly unbuttons your shirt, removes it while kissing your chest and sucking on your nipples; she opens your belt, unzips your pants and whammo; your getting head. You are going out of your fucking mind; you have died and went to heaven.

Her sheets are pure silk, the bed is even made; cute lace pillow covers, everything even matches; this girl knows how to live; you could get used to this life fast; this is it, the good life that all men dream about.

You make love, she doing it all for you, anything you want, and any way you want it; your thinking, I want more of this kind life. She takes you to the shower, baths you embraces you, kisses your entire body; you're out of your horny little mind. Back to the silk sheets you go; all of a sudden she's saying, "Yes, yes," no dumbo dick, she's not having an orgasm, you popped the big question; you fucked up big time.
What happened, what went wrong? All you wanted was to get laid. If you had any brains, you would grab your clothes and run like hell; but you won’t, none of us do. For some reason men just lie there and are eaten alive; women are like black widow spiders, they give you ecstasy, and then chew you up.

The next thing you know, you’re meeting her parents, they’re in on this plot to nail you as well; they want their little girl married off as much as she wants to marry you. Fathers don’t want their little girl living alone in this big bad world; he knows what’s going on with single girls living alone. Ever since she moved into her own apartment he's been in a cold sweat. "But daddy, it’s closer to my job." mothers are jealous, what’s she doing now? a new guy every weekend. "Why did I get married so young?"

When she brings you home to meet the family, "mother" is all over you; at last she's thinking, my little girl finally got one stupid enough to go for the bait, all those years of training has finally paid off.

Her father is very nice to you, offers you a beer, and calls you "son;" when their fathers start the “my son” routine its over, your ass is grass. He may act as if he likes you, but the bottom line is he’s thrilled to be getting his kid married off; besides you’re the first one she has dragged into the house who has a steady job.
Father’s cool off towards their future son in-laws when they find out what getting their kid married off is going to cost; don’t worry, after a few years he'll come out of shock, and some father in-laws turn out to be pretty nice guys. Give him a few years; it takes time for the old guy to except that some sex manic is throwing a dick into his sweet innocent little girl.

All the animal species likes to show off their kills, ever have a cat? They will bring the poor mouse or bird to your doorstep, just to show what great hunters they are; women are no different, they will drag your ass all over the place. "I just want you to meet my friends," they’re showing off their kill. "See what I got;" you, pussy for brains are it.

What women do to get the man they want is pure deception. They make themselves out to be the perfect little woman, just for you; okay so everything goes in love and war; but think of it this way; if you conned a business partner into investing his money in your company, the way some women con men into marriage, your ass would be in jail; it’s called fraud, but women get by with it and men are too pussy whipped to put up a fight.

It's over you went for it and signed the contract, stop your crying, be a real man and take what’s coming to you. Who knows maybe it can work out; hard as it may be to believe in this day and age, but some marriages last more than a few years.
I hope you had enough breathing space to discover if you would have liked this woman as a friend even if you hadn’t married her; she may be the best fuck you ever had; but the same pussy for the rest of your life? Hey, this is some serious shit, and you had better checked out who this woman you can’t live without really is before marriage.

Most important of all, did you get the chance to test her sense of humor, does she laugh much, and can she laugh at herself? If you got one of those, "now lets not be silly Bruce" types, your in deep; well, let me put it this way, you would have been better off dropping your pants and sticking your bare ass in a rabid pit bulls face; your going to get your ass chewed off the rest of your married life.

I know, they're guys out there who enjoy being married to women who is on their ass day and night; Bruce do this, Bruce do that, shut up Bruce, Bruce come here this instant; where were you? why don’t you answer when I call you? You may have been in the toilet reading a book; she doesn't care; let me add, the toilet is about the only place you will get any peace with this type, sometimes.
I really feel sorry for the poor man who marries a woman without a sense of humor; let’s face it, men are not exactly perfect, close, yes; but do, on rare occasions make slight miscalculations of judgment, and being innocent as men are, they usually get caught.

Remember how your mother could tell when you did the slightest thing wrong? Women are born with this ability, its part of their defense mechanism. You had better face the facts; when you mess up or do something stupid, most the time you are going to be caught. You can try to lie your way out, but until you get good at it, they’ll know the truth. It’s not easy to fool them; at times, they may let you slide out of trouble; but they usually know the truth and are just throwing you a bone, letting you believe you got by with something.

I hope for your sake she has a good sense of humor or your poor ass is in trouble; if you had the misfortune to marry the type who takes every little thing serious, you're in deep pupu. If you can’t joke your way out of trouble, to make her laugh, you're going to have one hell of a time trying to make love to her; you'll probably spend more nights on the sofa with your dog than in bed with her.
Not to be all-negative, with any luck you got a good one, attractive, witty, fun to be with, never spanks you in public; maybe she'll even listen to your bullshit when you’re lying your ass off.

You got lucky, a perfect wife; well, as perfect as your going to get; anyway you're still captured, but the wardens not too bad; who knows you may even start to like it.

One day you may wake up to find you’re in love with your own wife, you may even like her; shocker of shockers, you may even grow to respect her opinion.
Strange as it may seem it has been known to happen, usually to folks in their late sixties, but must admit, a few of the younger set have made it happen.

I know there are a few women out there who may be a little pissed-off at me; "what does he mean he may fall in love with me?" I mean just that, and further more you may just fall in love with each other; you may even start to like each other; there is hope.

For now you’re just caught up in the mating game, she wanted a mate and you wanted too mate, but for her mating means marriage, at least mating with any regularity.

For the guy a motel is just fine, the back or front seat of a car will do, even standing up in a doorway will work; men don’t really give a shit where they get laid. Lets face it, when that thing between his legs gets hungry he'll eat in a hog trough; not the lady’s, they want romance, their bed, her man; she may enjoy an
occasional wild night, but just for excitement; most woman want her man in her bed.
Why do you think she went threw all the trouble to get you to marry her? She got you, she won the game and that's that.

She has a ready smile, nice words for everybody, even laughs at your not so funny jokes; yes, you would have probably liked her even if you had not married her.
Your married; so now what you gonna do? Well, if you haven’t already been house hunting or apartment hunting before the marriage, now’s the time to get this chore done.

One piece of very important information, stay out of it; this is her realm; just make one demand, not a request a demand; two bathrooms; or at least a bath and a half. This is the most important piece of advice I can give you; for those with more than one sister in the house know exactly what I’m getting at.
If your pocket can afford it, an extra bedroom will come in handy; but for now let her pick out where your going to live, let her pick out the furniture and anything else she wants to put into her home.

Women know what they want, they plan on building their nest from the time their two years old; if your smart you'll keep your mouth shut. An occasional yes dear, that’s great honey, should be all that comes out of your mouth at this stage of the game. She is building her nest, and if you stay out of it, and let her build it the way she wants, you'll be off to a good start.

She may ask your advice from time to time, believe me she really does not want it; she's only trying to be polite. She knows exactly what she wants. When she's through, just say, honey, I couldn’t have done better myself.
Getting back to that extra room, this is for you, you can do your paper work, read a book, watch a ball game, smoke a cigar, pop a few beers, or just kick back with a couple of buddies.


Remember how she used to light your cigarette. now, you’re not aloud to smoke in her house. “Just how many beers you going to drink today?” You need this extra
room to do whatever you want. When you're in the doghouse this room is your escape, your sanctuary; about once a month that sweet little thing you are married to can turn into a real bitch, your gonna need that room.

Now for the most important room of all; the bathroom; I do hope you listened to me in respects to getting a second bathroom; this is where the birth of divorce starts to form; if you listened to me you have a head start on building a lasting relationship.

Remember when you used to spend an occasional night at your girl friends apartment? The bathroom was spotless, cute little his and her towels, matching face clothes, sweet smelling bars of soap; everything had its place, organized; even a toilet brush in its own holder; spotless, the bath tub didn’t even have a ring around it.

Give me a break; this is woman’s single greatest act of deception it’s all a front, a show, a masterful con job; do you think she was not planning on having you over for the night.

Women can clean their apartment in one hour; their bathrooms will take at least half a day. Except it, you've been had; if you don’t have your own bathroom you're in trouble. You walk into that room at your own risk, pantie hose over the shower curtain, socks and underwear on the water faucets. The counter top can you believe eight different shades of lipstick, four shades of eye shadow, hair curlers, bobby pins, curling iron, hair dryer, hair coloring, that has already stained the counter top for eternity; toe nail clippers, fingernail polish, more stains, polish remover, deodorizers, bubble bath, Tampax, perfume of every variety, six different creams, powders, her razor.

This is just the beginning. Don’t even think of opening the medicine cabinet, or worse the drawers; that’s where they keep their stuff; you know what stuff is? That’s all the shit you can get in one drawer and still close it.
Unless your married you wont believe what they can shove into a little bathroom; oh yea, remember those cute little towels? Well they are not for you, those are guest towels, don’t touch; it goes for those cute little bars of soap as well.

She needs at least four towels for a shower, which takes at least an hour, when she's in a hurry. One towel for her face, another for her hair, another for
her body wrap, and another for the floor; that one is usually yours.
Hand clothes for her face, another for her feet oh yes talking about feet, she has sandpaper for her feet, creams for her feet, pads for her feet, so much said for those "sexy" four-inch heels.

It goes on and on, aerobic costumes over the tub. "Why don’t you throw these things in the dirty clothes?" you ask. I paid $180.00 for that costume it has to be washed by hand; or worse yet, it has to be dry-cleaned.

You’ll learn never to ask about her “things.” $180.00 for a tiny costume to sweat and fart in? That’s not including the shoes, socks, wristbands headbands; how did Joe Montana achieve such greatness working out in a dirty gray sweat suit?
Back to the toilet, do you ever think your going to get your shit, shower, a shave, and be on time for work? Why do you think most men upon their arrival to work head straight to the men’s room?

That toilet in your house is nothing more than a drug store; a dirty drug store, stay out; who knows what else they keep hidden in there. I don’t think they know what the hell they got in that room; it's almost like their purses; don’t ever open one of those either. I watched my wife clean out her purse, you would not believe it, she found junk in there that she swore she lost 3 years ago.

I don’t know what women do in the toilet, but I do know this they can spend hours in the place; that’s why the first year of living with your new mate can be such a bitch. They usually run for the john 3 hours before they have to be at work.
The make up gets plastered on, then the hairdo, then the nails, they don’t just brush their teeth, they have to floss them as well, maybe its those pesky pubic hairs; they need a mirror for this?

When you think there all done, they have to stand and look at themselves for another 15 minutes; after all the shit they plaster on there face they probably don’t know who’s looking back at them; by the time they’re finished you've either pissed out the window, or in the sink.

Then they start the other morning ordeal; "What am I going to wear?" "Oh shit I don’t have a thing to wear”; believe me they got plenty to wear, they just can’t find it in that garbage bin they call a closet. At night, same program, but in reverse; off comes the clothes, throws them inside her closet. Off to the john she goes, off comes the make up, on goes the creams, your in bed and ready. "Baby you almost finished?" just a sec. sweetie, I'm sanding my feet.

After a few years you won’t bother to ask or even dream of rushing her, when she gets to bed, she's there; if you’re lucky she won’t have a headache.
On rare occasions, you may get a shot at the toilet. I can assure you the moment you set down, there will be a knock at the door, "honey, you almost done" "I've got to get ready," "and please, use the spray." What spray? Christ, there must be ten cans of different sprays in the place, what are you supposed to use; it’s like walking in a minefield.

If you listened to me and got your own private toilet your life will be at least seventy percent happier. I know guys who only get one decent bowel movement a week, that’s on Saturday afternoon, when his wife is out shopping with the girls; do you have any idea of what this can do to a normally healthy young man.

No wonder we have so many divorces; if women would use their heads and give their mates a shot at the john for just half an hour per day, it would cut the divorce rates in half.

Why do you think so many married men join health clubs? They don’t really want to work out, they work all day, do you honestly believe men want to go to some gym and work out? You've got to be kidding; these poor guys go to these clubs for one reason; a calm relaxed bowel movement; a leisurely soak in the hot tub, an
un-rushed shower, with know one rushing them to finish so she can get the sandpaper for her feet.

I do hope you have listened to me and got your own toilet; if you did, I'm sure you'll have a head start on your way to being a happy camper.