Dating for Idiot’s Part 3: Surviving a Relationship WITHOUT ANY Violent Convictions.
Or
Shut The Fuck Up Already I Didn’t Fucking Look At Her.
Congratulations today is the first day of the rest of your life the way she envisioned it. So you’ve got yourself into a relationship, which is kind of like getting sent to jail in a game of monopoly, it’s a minor pause before you start trying to buy something else for minimal cost… that metaphor made no sense.
Which leads me to my other opening point: You will slowly lose your mind over the course of the coming months. Sure you have what is graciously referred to the “Honeymoon” period which basically can be translated as “Fucking Each Other Hasn’t Got Repetitive Yet” but it’s short lived like my erection after a bottle of tequila.
Eventually those eyes that held the key to everything you thought you needed will be filled with intense rage because you said that Hollyoaks didn’t have a logical plot line, they’ll be filling with tears every time you say her best friend looks good tonight. That shapely body that first drew you to her like she was wearing a suit of armour and you had a magnet on your dick will soon be used to essentially bribe you into attending meals for your “5 and 3 weeks anniversary”. Her mind which spawned such stunning personality that you were dumb struck upon first meeting her has now apparently been overtaken by a malevolent force with two main goals. First, to turn you slowly insane. Second, to make you believe that it’s YOUR fault you turned insane.
You don’t even want to know what the erogenous zones will do to you, I don’t know if you can take it yet.
You can’t take it yet because you haven’t read the latest and greatest advice from a man who’s in the process of inventing a GPS system that tells you where her clitoris is from the other side of the room. A man who was recently referred to as “The #1 Man You Would Sleep With If The Vibrator Broke On A Desert Island”. The following is the secrets that I have slowly perfected over years of arduous relationships. I was once like you. I know it’s hard to believe but work with me here. I was once the guy who’s got his neck tied to his shoelaces so he can’t look at anybody else when he’s out. I fought my way out with my patented system of rules, which I now bestow upon you, kind reader for being SuperAwesome enough to read this blog.
So check if it’s OK with her and then let’s begin.
Rule #1: Accept That She Will Never Trust You BUT Don’t Take No Shit.
Ok so she’s tied you down now and I don’t mean in the kinky way where you have to use safe words to escape when she’s read the sex tips wrong and is pouring boiled wax onto your bare chest. She’s got you tied down in the sense that this women now for all intent’s and purposes owns your testicles. You may as well copyright a picture of them in her name.
The problem with getting with a girl is, unlike when you’re single, they notice every single fucking thing you do. Thus this means you will inevitably do something that she doesn’t agree with. This will usually occur shortly after your feet touch the carpet rolling out of bed in the morning and end when one of you is dead or in a coma. You have to see things the way she sees things just without the hormones. You’ll quickly learn this is an impossibility.
They just don’t see things the same way as you, this is why they find Pop Idol interesting and give a flying fuck what celebrities are wearing. It took me years of painstaking accusations and this is by no means concrete but the following is a rough translation guide of she thinks you’re doing when you say:
You Say: I’m just off out for a few pints with the lads.
She Thinks: He’s clearly lying, his friends are all layabout evil bastards intent on turning him against me. He’s going to go the nearest brothel whereby his friends will pay for a wild orgy of people who look just like that girl I don’t like.
You Say: I’m going to work.
She Thinks: He’s going to pull up, clock in and then proceed to have wild photocopier sex with that secretary who always looks at me funny.
You Say: I’m going to live in a remote monastery with some monks.
She Thinks: It’s a monastery of nymphomaniac monks who all look like that girl off The OC. Urgh, I just can’t watch that show now.
You Say: I’m going out to buy you a large gift to show my undying love for you.
She Thinks: He’s going to fuck the girl who work’s at Thornton’s and bribe me with a box of Continental with a gift tag he wrote with her pen in the car on the way back here.
As you can see gentlemen, you’re royally fucked. Basically her main tactic of stopping you from fucking any girl other than her is to automatically assume that you’re fucking every girl but her. The main thing to remember is NEVER admit that you’re actually fucking every girl AND her, it doesn’t go down well, trust me.
Let her accuse you a few times and explain calmly and carefully that you are not in fact doing anything wrong by doing exactly what you did 6 months ago when she didn’t give a flying fuck where you were. She’ll continue to accuse you. Now it’s time to display masculinity in order to set her straight.
Chicks dig masculinity trust me.
The next time she accuses you of something like this calmly pick up the TV set and launch it through the window and if she has any pets viciously slaughter them and then CALMLY explain that you didn’t want to do that but she wasn’t listening to you. She’ll lock herself in another room, call her best friend and you can have a nice casual beer and cigarette whilst you text that other girl in peace. Just like she would do, if you only gave her the chance, which leads me to:
Rule #2: If you can’t see her, she’s fucking somebody else.
The rule says it all really. Remember that nice guy she introduced you to last time you dared to go drinking with her without your own friends. The one who was so funny and such a good friend? Yeah the second you aren’t there she’s going to be doing some freaky shit with him and biting the teddy bear you brought her to apologize for going out with your friends and having a good time.
Trusting a girl you can’t see is like looking a tornado heading straight toward you, turning your back to it and saying “oh well it probably won’t hit ME”. This is retarded. There’s a very simple method of dealing with this however I told you that you wouldn’t get any violent convictions.
Beyond that, unfortunately, you are essentially royally fucked. I never said a relationship would be easy.
You have to deal with it like a cold by which I mean you treat the symptoms not the virus. Every time you leave her alone leave some kind of ingenius booby trap in your wake. Duct tape some thumb tacks onto your side of the bed, set up a cunning spring assisted claw hammer trap that triggers when the headboard hits the wall. The best trap I’ve found is to SAY you’re going out and then climb into the attic and wait on the space of roof above your bed. If you hear any noise jump through the floor holding a sledgehammer whilst screaming wild obscenities.
Besides that you’re really on your own sir. I’m trying to figure out a shock collar to deter women from doing this but the fucking fashion season’s keep changing every time I perfect the design.
Rule #3 For The Love Of Christ Don’t Mention Their Weight.
This includes:
- Saying another girl looks thin.
- Saying another object looks thin.
- Saying anything that means “light”. If a bag is light then simply say “Well this bag weighs as much as you!”
- Saying thin in any context not involving her.
- Say anything, ANYTHING about heavy weights or something that connotes “Heavy” around her. I’m sorry, you’ll never eat a Whopper at Burger King around her due to this.
There are drug dealers less concerned with weight than most women. Often you will hear this immortal phrase: “I Feel Fat”. DO NOT SAY:
- Well that’s a stunning coincidence because you look fat.
- Well that’s kind of what happens when you eat 3 kilograms of chocolate.
- Well you’re not exactly athletic.
- YARRR thar be whales ahoy! Drop the anchor! (whereby you pick up and drop her arm)
Simply reassure her in a calming tone, something along the lines of:
- Don’t worry we’re entering an economic depression, you’ll HAVE to lose weight soon.
- I happen to know a great liposuctionist.
- I think the idea of a crash pad for my pelvis during sex is great.
- Don’t worry, you look beautiful.
It doesn’t really matter which of the above you choose because she won’t believe you. It’s here that I want you to go to your happy place. Think of puppies holding hands, think of kittens playing hula hoop, think of two giraffe’s playing “header tennis” with a football.
Just distance yourself because now for at least the next hour she’ll talk at great length about her weight. You advice here is the same as your advice about her buying clothes: she will ask for it but pay zero fucking attention whatsoever to what you said.
Just prepare yourself to calm your homicidal tendencies for the next time she says “I feel fat” around one of her female friends and they say exactly what you say and your girlfriend proceeds to gush and proclaim her love for her. Take revenge for this. The next time you’re making sweet love to her, in the foreplay tell her that you can’t wait to harpoon her.
Rule #4: You Aren’t Ever Going To “Get” Her TV Shows/Magazines.
Yes it is entirely believable that a man would get a map of a prison tattooed onto himself, get sent to prison and then break out just to save his brother rather than say, oh, going to see him in visiting hours and getting on with his life. It’s always highly viable that they’ll both be tall, muscular, good looking and total arseholes that every woman would likely rape given a Viagra and a bed.
It’s also entirely possible that four women who live in New York can get laid more individually than every single person you know ever will in their entire lives. They’ll also juggle high powered jobs and have lots of time to shop as well. Also the best looking one will get laid the least. It’s completely believable shut the fuck up.
Gay people are funny too. Gay people all also know fashion and clothes really fucking well and want nothing more than to be best friends with the gender they optionally chose not to mate with. They’ll all be really flamboyant and be the comforting fe/male presence when any women in a 50 yard radius is single or in the middle of a break up.
Yes it is a good use of our trees to create paper on which to print 300 + pages of pictures of clothes and shoes that they will never, ever purchase but rather look at longingly like a caged lion being offered a sirloin steak with a side of paralysed zebra.
It doesn’t make sense, but for the love of almighty god just let them have their illusions, shut up and buy them the fucking box sets for Christmas.
Rule#5: They aren’t stupid, Why are you talking to them like they’re stupid?!
As if the above wasn’t already like trying to navigate a minefield whilst wearing stilts and being chased by a lion whose mother you just insulted, you have to watch your patronization.
Now whilst I’m a strong advocate of the ideal that patronization is the most fun you can have with a woman that doesn’t involve broken bed slats followed by a smirk and a cigarette, if you want to survive the relationship it’s not recommended.
Bear in mind that women very often confuse honesty with patronization. So your best bet is to just never be honest or better still to just never communicate with her on any medium other than a Birthday, Christmas or Valentines card.
Because if you tell her she just did or said something incredibly stupid it might well be true but telling her isn’t honesty it’s patronizing her. A girl could walk into the path of a speeding truck and if you told her during her recovery it was a pretty stupid thing to do, you can expect a mood.
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Now I’m not saying these things are easy to achieve. You probably now understand why your father was so unhappy/angry/alcoholic all through your childhood. You probably get why men celebrate quite so hard at stag parties.
But this is what you get when you give women equality so my dad tells me. Surviving a relationship comes down to these above five rules more often than not. The depressing thing about these things is that there’s a million other little things you learn on your own. They’re usually learnt via a long drawn out argument that solves or proves nothing and leaves none of you any the wiser about each other.
You tread your own little path on the minefield that is a relationship. The prize for making it through is simply a very tired woman who simply cannot be bothered to criticize your faults anymore and grudgingly accepts them and this, my friends is what marriage is.
You don’t want to get married though. As the man I was educated in women by once said “Son don’t get married because then the next thing you know you’re paying for an idiot like you to attend college to avoid a divorce.”
He was a loving man my father.
But you’re in luck because as always I’ve got you covered my lucky readers and fans. If you’re already contemplating caving your girlfriends head in with her latest pair of New Look heels then have I got the right guide for you next…
Tune in Next Time For The Final Part Of Our Guide Series: Dating for Idiot’s Part 4: Breaking Up.
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