Lately there have been an increasing number of stories about same-sex marriage in the news. Considering all the coverage about our tanking economy, our screwed foreign policy, dead and dying celebrities, and how perfectly good airplanes are crashing left and right, it wouldn’t be too surprising if a person missed it. But at a time when our country’s divorce rate is hovering around the 50% mark, the fight for gay marriage seems a bit like the ultimate love story. There is a segment of the population that believes so strongly in marriage that they are actually fighting for the right to join the ranks of married people. Given what I have seen of married people lately, I can’t say that I would be fighting for that, er, honor, but to each his own.

I never would have imagined that something like a gay couple who love each other so much that they want to get hitched would unleash such a socio-political brouhaha. And yet, that is exactly what the same-sex marriage debate has become. Legislatures are under pressure to formally declare that marriage is defined as only being between a man and a woman. Outside state offices and courthouses in places that allow gay marriage crowds have gathered, some trying to get their marriage licenses, others chanting that God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.

From my standpoint, I believe that the folks against same-sex marriage have every right to ban gay unions in their churches and dislike homosexuals as much as they want to. I don’t like their stance, but, from my understanding of The Bill of Rights, they have the right to think and feel the way they want to about the subject. If they feel there is a solid biblical reason for gays not to marry, fine.

Where I take issue with this, and maybe all my government classes were wrong, is that we in these United States believe in a quirky little thing called the separation of church and state. Oh, and the idea of majority rule while preserving minority rights.

Therefore, I find it difficult to understand why, if the sole stated reasoning against gay marriage is based on a religious interpretation of what a vocal group of Christian supporters believe and understand to be God’s will, our country hasn’t passed an amendment allowing gay marriage on a national level. When did “God says so” become the basis for legislative rulings in a secular nation? Hello, separation of church and state anybody? Anybody?

As I understand it, the national and state governments don’t give a crap about people’s religious beliefs when they get married. That consideration falls to individual denominations and the clerics who represent those denominations if they are asked to officiate a union. All the state (a.k.a. government) cares about is that you are who you say you are, that you are entering this partnership agreement of your own free will, that you are not currently in partnership with anyone else, that you are old enough to enter into a partnership, and that the swearing of this partnership is properly witnessed. You don’t have to be a good person, you don’t have to be caught up on your taxes, you don’t even have to be a citizen, and you certainly don’t have to profess any religious belief to be legally married in the eyes of the state.

Incidentally, if the state didn’t grant clerics the authority to conduct a legally binding contract recognized by said state, then a church marriage ceremony would be nothing more than just that, a religious ceremony. While the religious ceremony may have deep significance on a spiritual, cultural, or social level, without the backing of the state that sanctions the union it is not a legal marriage contract. It would have no more legal clout than a christening ceremony or the Eucharist.

And that is part of this debate that is a major sticking point for me, because it seems like the secular legal decision about who the state will allow to marry is being overwhelmed with religious considerations. I would dearly like to know if there is a non-religious reason to prohibit gay marriage because I have yet to hear one. Is there a constitutional reason to ban same-sex unions? Is this being kept secret somewhere with J. Edgar Hoover’s files? Maybe with Hoover’s lingerie? People want to know.

I find it scary to think that my constitutional rights and freedoms as a citizen of the United States of America are only secure so long as I don’t run afoul of how the Religious Right or any religious majority are interpreting their sacred texts that week. And, I think the Religious Right should find it scary too.

At the moment, the United States likes to consider itself, socially and culturally speaking, a predominantly Christian nation. But that could change. I wonder how this nation’s current religious majority would react to being a minority. If say, conservative Islamic beliefs became the majority, how would Christians react to laws passed about women needing to be veiled in public? What if the witches decided everyone had to have a smudge on their houses? My guess is the Christians would be angry that in a supposedly secular nation claiming to value religious liberty, their rights as citizens could be subjugated because they failed to conform to another group’s religious views.

Rules about religious liberty in this country weren’t set up solely to protect people as they practice their religion, but also to protect citizens from those practicing religion. This is why I think it is scary to create legal precedence for using religion and religious beliefs as a basis for determining who has what rights under the law. But then, it probably looks different if you are in the group that gets to do the subjugating.

But that is not my only concern in the gay-marriage debate. There’s also the problem with gay marriage measures failing when they are presented to the voters, sending the message, “Homosexuals don’t deserve to marry because the majority of voters say so. So there. No take backs and no whammies.”

You mean a disinterested group of voters don’t give a rat’s ass about the rights of a minority? Gee, couldn’t see that one coming. When has that ever happened in American history? I mean, other than the peculiar institution of slavery that flourished in the south, the people accused and executed for witchcraft in Salem, Massachusetts, the gross mistreatment of Native Americans all over the country for a few centuries, the fact that women didn’t have the same voting rights as their male counter parts until the 20th century, the Japanese internment camps of WWII, and the Jim Crow laws in the south that prevented blacks from being able to vote. Yeah, other than those few, isolated cases, when has a majority in America ever failed to do what is right by a minority?

Is denying someone a right under the law permissible if a majority of voters think it is okay? If that is true, then pretty much most of the mob actions throughout the history of the world would be justified with a “might-makes-right” argument. French aristocrats, European Jews, Christians in ancient Rome, sucks to be you, but we took a vote and you don’t get to live. Rest assured, we got a majority.

And there is also all this flap that gay-unions will ruin the sanctity of marriage. Really? Gay folks will do that? Because it seems that heterosexuals were doing a pretty good job of ruining marriage’s sanctity all on their own.

Irrespective of religious beliefs, for the sake of argument let’s say marriage is something sanctioned by God. And let’s assume that He created and sanctioned marriage for the support and mutual happiness of both parties because, as I read it, men and women were created equal before God. So, that begs the question, how have we done?

Under the heterosexual reign marriage has frequently been a tool of patriarchy rather than partnership, marriage has historically been used to cement political alliances (Queen Victoria so successfully pimped out her children that almost all the royal houses in Europe were related by their hemophiliac blood or marriage), and marriage was also used to transfer and procure wealth and titles.

Because I’m sure that’s why God created marriage, so Ferdinand and Isabella could unite Spain, oust the Moors, conduct the Spanish Inquisition, and rape the New World.

But what about the marital miseries of ordinary heterosexuals? Most people know of at least one marriage marred by domestic abuse. How sanctified is it to hit someone after vowing to love, honor, and cherish that person? One friend told me she endured her husband beating her on a regular basis for more than twenty years because she had been taught that divorce went against the Bible.

Then there’s infidelity, plenty of that in the straight world. Really, I think nothing says sanctity like screwing someone else (possibly several someones) after vowing before God, man, and the state to devote yourself to just one person. And, in addition to the massive betrayal of trust and all the deceit, there is also the fact that it can expose a partner to serious risk for contracting STDs.

But even without domestic assault and infidelity, there is still plenty of divorce because of apathy, antagonism, and incompatibility. Seems like you don’t have to look too far to find one of those couples who never should have gotten married and seem to stay together only because it is the most convenient way to make one another miserable. Not too surprising considering how often people marry for reasons other than love, mutual respect, and wanting to build a life together. One guy told me his girlfriend’s great idea for solving their relationship problems was to get married. Yup, “We don’t get along so what we really need to do is get hitched. That will solve everything.”

Oh, and then there are the people who kill their spouses. That may be for a variety of reasons like abuse, anger over cheating or betrayal, not wanting to give the other person a divorce, life insurance money, and pregnancy. Yeah it is kind of creepy that the leading cause of death for pregnant women is murder, frequently at the hands of the baby’s father—and some of these victims are married women (like Lacy Peterson), not just baby-mamas.

It is sad that some of the most crushing betrayals, callous abuses, and apathetic treatment of a person’s life may be perpetrated by the person who vowed to love, honor, and cherish them, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health as long as they both shall live. How much less sanctified could marriage get? It begs the question, What could gay people possibly do to taint marriage that straight people haven’t already done?

I’m not claiming that there aren’t good marriages out there, the sort that live up to all the hype about love and respect and partnership and don’t leave people miserable, betrayed, battered, or dead. I’m simply illustrating that marriage is not a perfect, pristine institution that is going to get its first blemish if homosexuals get to marry.

Now, if I found some willing guy we could head off to Vegas and be married before midnight and that would be completely legal (regardless of our blood alcohol levels or how long we’d known each other or our religious beliefs) and, according to the religious arguments I’ve heard, blessed by God—even if it was officiated by Elvis. But I’d like to imagine that if things were different and that my right to marry was in the hands of the voting public and a twitchy legislature more concerned with re-election than doing the right thing, that my rights as a citizen would be more important than caving to the prevailing religious belief. And, I would hope that other citizens could acknowledge my rights without having to approve of my lifestyle, like me, or even know me. But I guess that’s the problem with being a daydream believer. Who knew the Constitution was the impossible dream?

When a person is writing a work of fiction there’s pressure to make sure the characters are “believable,” that they sound true to life so readers aren’t jarred out of their happy cocoon thinking, “Nobody really acts like that.” But real life doesn’t have that constraint. Weird stuff happens and there isn’t always a good explanation for it. People think things that don’t have to make sense, they just are. You can think you know what you’re getting in a person and, unlike a good novel that gives you hints and foreshadowing, you can get surprised. Today, in the final installment of this series, we take another look at why we do the stuff we do, our characters–looking for the foreshadowing in real life.

Refresh Yourself–Part 7:

Character Studies, or

The Beginning is the End is the Beginning

(Yes, I completely ripped that line off from Billy Corgun. He worked with Courtney Love so he must be used to getting ripped off.)

If it seems like this seven-part diatribe is ever so slightly heavy on the importance of both discerning character and showing it rather than how many hours or days to wait before texting or calling after getting someone’s number, well, it is. There is a simple reason for this chronic refrain, CHARACTER MATTERS.

Comedian Ron White said, “You can’t fix stupid.” And he’s completely right. Stupid is pretty damn permanent. But, I’d like to add that you also can’t fix a lack of character. Character is either there or it isn’t.

By the time we’re grown up and let loose on the unsuspecting dating world, our characters are pretty much set—for better or worse. When life strips away our youth, looks, success, fortune, health, complaisance, badass persona, and all the other crap we spend our lives focusing on, all that remains is our character. If you don’t consider character to begin with, only the attractive frame and bundle of mutual interests or suitable pedigree blinking before you and your strong desire not to be single, then you deserve the box of chocolates you’re linked to—because you never know what you’re gonna get.*

Why, oh, why am I harping on this? I harp because character affects everything we do. Character development says it’s wrong to lie and to cheat, both issues fairly important in relationships. It also indicates what’s ultimately important to us, our core values, which will influence how we spend our money** and how we raise our children. You don’t have to look at too many divorced couples to know how unhappy mismatched values can make people.

But, despite the massive impact character will have on our relationships it is generally not a consideration when people start dating. First, we give people the once over and decide whether or not they satisfy our criteria for what we consider attractive. Next, we discern whether they find us attractive too. If all goes well, we spend time together discovering our mutual interests. Based on how that goes we either become a couple or go our separate ways. Couplehood can then lead to cohabitation and/or marriage. But when do we ask ourselves if this person is a good person?

And that is not always easy to see because people do the right things for a variety of reasons, not all of them very good. But reasons, and not only the end result, also matter. For example, just because someone is volunteering or singing in church doesn’t make them a good person. Volunteer work might give them an edge in getting accepted to a particular school or program. Singing in church could be because they like sound of their own voice and grandstanding in front of a captive audience. Maybe they don’t give a crap about any of it but simply can’t say no when asked to do something. Maybe they just do what is expected like an actor on a stage, quietly resenting it. Different motivations cast the exact same behavior into vastly different lights. When we care for someone we are more apt to see that person’s behavior in a favorable light regardless of the truth.

Culturally, we worship at the shrine of attraction, ranking character way the hell below chemistry and only slightly above our respective tolerance for webbed feet or outie bellybuttons. Maybe we figure that if the other person finds us attractive and interesting they must be a good person, after all, they like us. So, is chemistry important? Absolutely. We want to find out more about people we find attractive, interesting, and compelling. Hopefully, that fascination will lead us to a deeper understanding of the other person and what makes them tick. Ideally, we’ll find out something about what their core values are before we put our hearts on the line.

But it isn’t just our hearts we’re putting on the line. I was thinking about this the other day and it seemed as if it all comes down to this question:  Does this person have my back? Or, even better, Is this someone I can trust with my power of attorney if I’m incapacitated? Because that is what you really need to know—when you are at your most vulnerable, will this person who has captivated you and revved up your libido have your best interests at heart. Sexy? Romantic? Not so much. But pretty damn important if you’re in a coma or under general anesthesia.

Life can be a funny thing, amazingly beautiful one moment and then one mofo of a nightmare the next. God forbid this ever happens to you, but a car accident, a cancer diagnosis, a child with autism, a military deployment, a lay-off, and everything changes. Here’s hoping, that this person who seems to adore you so much when everything is a dream come true will hold your hand and help you if it becomes a nightmare. In the end, that is a tad more important than how many days to wait before contacting someone after you score digits.

*Yes, I know, I ripped off/borrowed that line from Forrest Gump. It is a borrowing kind of day.

**Considering that money is the #1 thing that couples fight about, this should not be treated lightly. When you’re dating it might seem cute that she’s racking up debt to look gorgeous for you, but that charm wears thin when she’s burning through your savings for Versace’s spring collection and you can’t make your mortgage payment.

And, there it is. The thing we generally think of last is the thing that we should think of first, but we probably won’t. As always, thanks for reading. Tune in again next Monday for a look at my irritation at the gender gap.

I know I said I was going to post this yesterday, but it was a holiday weekend so I’m posting today. Sorry. Hope that didn’t get anyone’s knickers in a twist. As the fourth post in my series, we are now exploring some of the etiquette involved in a return to the dating world. Funny, for as much as we lie and gloss over, when it comes to saying stupid and insensitive things we are suddenly on the truth bandwagon like it is going out of style. Especially when it comes to talking about our exes. This post addresses the tendency to be an insensitive prick to the new people in our lives.

Refresh Yourself–Part 4:

Three Is a Crowd

Even though you’ve defined a portion of your life by your involvement with your most recent ex, for the love of god, don’t talk about your ex all the damn time when you start dating again. Yes, your ex left an impression on your life and it would be ridiculous to pretend it didn’t happen, but when you continually tell the next person in your life all the wonders and faults of your ex and every little thing you did together it goes beyond being rude to being just plain unfair. Constantly throwing references to you ex into conversation with a new person can make that person feel as if they are in competition and constant comparison.*

While the new person in you life can handle and, doubtless, expects to have to hear a few references to the loves of your past, a steady diet of these references will weigh anyone down. Like the deep-fried cheese curds at the state fair, a little of the ode to your ex goes a very long way. During the “getting to know you” phase a person expects to exchange some history, but you don’t have to progress too far from that phase before that person will want to know whether you want to create new memories (possibly together) rather than constantly reliving adventures you had with your ex—he or she wants to know whether or not you have a future together as something other than your therapist, or a sounding board as you rehash your past relationships.

And there you are, left with the delicate dilemma of when it is appropriate to mention your ex and why. This is dicey because cutting out all things relating to your ex would mean cutting out a chunk of history that has made you you. And, troubled, foolhardy, and idiotic as it may have been, you have a right to your history, even the incredibly stupid parts. Reassuring though that may be, it doesn’t provide much guidance when referring to things in your past.

It can happen so quickly, some innocuous observation or event triggers a memory about something with you and your ex and by the time you realize what you are doing you have already started telling the story. This is a good time to think really fast. Here’s hoping you are capable.

If you’re talking about an event that involved you and your ex consider whether or not your ex is strictly essential to the story—basically, what is the story’s point. Is the story you want to tell that new special someone more about that incredibly romantic trip you and your ex took to Jamaica back when you thought your love wasn’t an elaborate lie concocted to crush your soul? Or, is it more about how you developed a deep and abiding love of hammocks while in Jamaica?

If the story is about hammocks, then don’t beat your poor new love-interest over the head with yet another reference to your ex and the life you had together. If you need to refer to your ex you can mention being there with a person or a friend. While this runs the risk of dipping into a shaded area of truth, consider whether, for the purpose of telling someone how much you like hammocks, you are interested in being insensitive with a ham-fisted full-disclosure that throws your ex in this poor new person’s face yet again.

Incidentally, it is also an important moving-on step to be able to give up referring to your ex with words like “my boyfriend” or “my girlfriend”. They aren’t yours anymore. It is possible that they never were yours. Changing the way you refer to an ex can be an important element in letting go.

However, if the point of the story is not about hammocks, but to drone on and on about the romantic trip you and your ex took, reliving your last relationship’s glory days and how absolutely great things were, then this is a good time to brush up on the Golden Rule. It may be that you are so used to being the wronged party that you don’t realize just what an incredible prick you are being to the new person in you life and the Golden Rule can provide perspective. For those with only a vague notion of the Golden Rule it is:  Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. You don’t have to be down with religion to see that what this idea proposes is nothing more than good manners and considering the other person’s feelings. In this case, ask yourself how you’d feel hearing your new/potential significant other wax eloquent about intimate or romantic moments with his or her ex—and then shut the hell up about your own. If you really can’t keep from constantly talking about your ex, it’s time to reconsider whether you’re ready to start dating again.

*To be completely honest, the new person actually is in competition and constant comparison with your ex. That’s just the way it is. We analyze and scrutinize the new things in our life in relation to the past, judging the unknown by the known. That said, keep in mind, oh comparison Grand Mucky-Mucks out there, this new person is comparing you too and if you keep up a constant commentary about your former loves you are not likely to stack up very well. Probably somewhere below people who share their very graphic health histories with perfect strangers in public places.

As always, thank you for reading and please join us next Monday for Part 5 where we’ll explore the wonders of breaking up and the modern mania to stay friends.

This being my third post in my series of seven, it seemed like it was time to throw out a few quasi-legal disclaimer statements in case someone is feeling twitchy or offended.
•    First, any similarities in the examples and illustrations I use to my friends’ relationships or mine are a coincidence. Much as our experiences feel unique to us, getting screwed over is fairly universal. And boys, with exceptions for height, weight, and ability to tan, ya’ll are relatively interchangeable, so on the off chance you are reading this, it isn’t all about you.
•    Secondly, my statements are simply my opinions. While I base my opinions on my experiences and observations, I would certainly be the last to claim that there is empirical, verifiable, peer-reviewed evidence for my claims. One would assume this would be implicit in the fact that this is a blog rather than The Economist but then you know what they say about assumptions…
•    My final disclaimer is that even though I’m clearly cynical, bitter, warped, and damaged, that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It means I’m biased, not incorrect.

So, with all that mumbo jumbo out of the way, let us proceed to the topic of the day. In honor of Monday we are going to explore the topic of cheating. Cheating is one of those damaging experiences that has affected most of us directly or indirectly. Not only does it involve a break-up, it involves even more heightened side-taking, blame-laying, disrespect, and out-and-out betrayal.

Refresh Yourself–Part 3:

Cheater Recovery Sucks

Those who have been cheated on have a special cross to bear because they are extra damaged. Mazel tov. Not only do they have the pain of having had a relationship end, they have a whole slew of doubts and insecurities integral to betrayed trust. Not that your trust can’t be betrayed if your ex wasn’t whoring around, but whoring around definitely takes a toll on trust.

And if you made the mistake of marrying the cheater who crapped all over you, it is that much worse because you know that when they stood before you in the presence of God, your families and friends, and the state that sanctioned your ill-fated union, and pledged their life exclusively to you, they lied. You took them for better or worse and they took you for Plan B. Or they changed their mind. Either way, it sucks.

Cheaters seem to fall into two general categories, those who cheat because of a situation and those who cheat because of a compulsion. Situational cheaters might be a neglected spouse who is starved for attention and, while wanting their spouse’s attention, will settle for someone else to keep the loneliness at bay. Habitual cheaters are an altogether different breed of pond scum. They continually, repeatedly, habitually cheat. It’s an established pattern or behavior, not unlike an alcoholic or a drug addict. Cheating helps them feel powerful, or superior, or exciting, or desirable.

Whatever the reason for the cheating, it is going to leave the faithful one with a lot of questions and issues. Among the questions likely to cross one’s mind is what did I do wrong? Maybe nothing. Could I have seen this coming? Possibly. Will this happen again? Maybe. It may take time to figure this out and make peace with it so you can move on. And you may not like what you discover.

If you are involved with one cheater, that is sad. If you have a history of being involved with cheaters, then you might want to consider why you find skanks or bad-boys so attractive that they are your relationship mainstays. Are you attracted to the excitement? Do you have a Messiah-complex and think you’re saving them? Or maybe it is a martyr complex? Does it feel flattering to have them pursue you? Did they get involved with you before they split with someone else?

A person who will cheat with you, will probably cheat on you. Being cheated on by a person who cheated on someone else with you…well, can you really say you didn’t see it coming? Call it karmic retribution, divine judgment, or the logical consequences of an established pattern of behavior, but it was probably bound to happen. Learn from it, become a better person, and move on.

Much as it might seem like a good idea to cultivate your messiah-complex by attracting cheaters and trying to save them from themselves, it really isn’t. First, not only are you not God*, but you are not-so-tacitly saying you are better than the other person (i.e. “you poor cheating slut, let me save you from yourself”). It may turn out that you don’t want to save the cheaters you’re involved with so much as have someone you can consistently look down on. Secondly, habitual cheaters are cheating for a reason that likely has nothing to do with you. Messiah or not, you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

For those who find man-whores and skanks thrilling…well, there comes a time when you have to decide just how important that kind of excitement and drama are to you. Sure they chase you down, charm and seduce you, and, for a brief glittering time, make you feel special, desirable, exciting. And then they’re gone, chasing down another conquest, more excitement and more drama. But consider the long-term effects of this excitement. If you continue your affection for cheaters there’s a strong chance you’ll be exposed to STDs. Damaging as that can be for men, for women venereal disease is also associated with infertility. Women, STDs can lead to miscarriages, scarred fallopian tubes, and cervical cancer. The man-whore you date at 23 could cost you your chance of being a mother at 33. Men, in addition to screaming when you pee, do you want to wonder if the baby in your arms is really yours?

Which brings up the issue of children—BABIES CANNOT CHOOSE THEIR DAMN PARENTS. You owe it to your children, current and/or future, who are saddled with you forever through genetic chance, to be the best parent you can be—responsible parents chose responsible partners. If you can’t break your skank/man-whore addiction for yourself, then do it for the kids you may one day have. Once children are in the picture, your heart isn’t the only one that will get broken.

*I freely acknowledge that this viewpoint comes from a Judeo-Christian background and that a more pantheistic view would suggest that God or creative force is within all of us. If that is so, then playing God to another God is equally condescending and an all-around dick move.
Thanks for reading and join us again next Monday (I still don’t like Mondays) when we explore the fact that three is a crowd. And no, despite how that might sound, we are not discussing threesomes.

Yep, and if you believe that, you probably still leave milk and cookies out for Santa Clause every year too. Whoever the fuck came out with this saying must have been a fucking masochist because all telling the truth does is gets you in MORE trouble.

“Why yes Officer, I was aware that I was speeding through that school zone. I was paying more attention to where the fuck that joint I dropped went than I was to the speed limit.” and the fucker will have you out of the car, face down on the pavement shining his jack boots up on the back of your skull. You react with complete astonishment and go, “Oh My God, the accelerator stuck and I couldn’t get the thing into neutral before it took off like it had been fired out of a Howitzer.” He gives you that look like he knows you’re full of shit and says that he’ll cut you a break and only write the ticket for doing 75 in a 35 zone. “Consider yourself lucky, because in this state anything thirty miles over the posted limit is an arrest able offense and those always come with a heaping helping of nightstick and Taser surprise.

Cops just love to tell the stories that the offender comes out with while they are throwing down a shitload of Budweiser and Jim Beam after work. Who really wants to hear about the guy that confessed to running a stop sign and speeding through the neighborhood when the one about the guy that was getting road head and swerved out in front the cruiser is much more colorful?

They say that honesty is what makes a relationship work also. I have to tell you that is complete bullshit. Only a woman would say for you to be honest, because then she will have shit to bring up in every fight you ever have from here to eternity. Fidelity makes a relationship work. Honesty goes right the fuck out the window when your woman asks, “Does this make me look fat?” If you say anything but, “I don’t think the weatherman said anything about rain at all today, Honey.” You are about to get your fucking ears torn apart from the inside out. LIE now. Lie your fucking ass off. Tell her how she could wear a fucking potato sack and look like the sexiest woman on the planet. You will either do this without hesitation or be doomed to a life of pure unadulterated Hell from which the only redemption is to buy her a Sports Car. Even then she’ll ask you why you took a chance that her big, giant, behemoth, ass would fit in such a teeny, tiny little eighty thousand dollar car.

Men and women lie about different things to each other. Men go out to the strip club so they can treat the hotties there like a piece of meat and then come home and tell their lady, “No really, I was out having a couple of cold ones with the Boys.” He really was out with the boys, but they were in different parts of the club with different women taking their money, so technically that really wasn’t as much of a lie as it was an omission of unneeded information.

When women lie it is something more along the lines of “It’s your Baby!”

A day off.

A word of advice for all you well-meaning guys out there. Don’t waste your time giving gifts that don’t involve time off for mom. And DON’T expect her to pack the picnic basket on “your” mother’s day picnic plans for her. Especially if you’re thinking you might get some “romantic” fringe bennies out of the deal.

I never met a mother who didn’t want a day off for mothers day.

I never met a guy that didn’t expect some action after dinging around with BS like flowers on Mothers Day (and every other holiday).

You want to make the mother of your (or someone else’s) children really happy? Give her a day off. A babysitter and a gift certificate to a spa would be ideal.

(just my opinion, and possibly one of the many reasons I got divorced)

You know I can’t believe how lazy most people have gotten. What’s even more amazing is the fact that they can come up with thousands of excuses as to justify spending more time on the couch! Even the people that supossedly have “healthy lifestyles” are still lazy as hell. On that note how in the hell can you have a healthy lifestyle and eat everything OUT OF A BOX!

People that say that they don’t have time to cook are well just full of it! They are everyone has time to cook, they don’t because they want to be lazy. Hey that’s fine with me just admit it and we can move on. That’ll never happen because these people are nothing if not masters of excuses. At work one time I got a person I work with to a lovely shade of vermilion just by calmly proving and re-proving to her every time that yes she did in fact have time to cook.

I’ll prove it here to! Let’s take a average American family Husband Wife and let’s say three kids. The kids are Billy 12, Jamie 10 and Kerry 7 just for the sake of argument oh and both of the parents work. Let’s also say that each of the three kids are involved with three extracurricular activities each. Because the parents have that annoying trend of making sure that their kids experience everything. Even though the child has never once expressed ANY interest in any of the activities.

Now through the week I’ll stipulate that yes there really isn’t enough time to cook breakfast. Fourtunatly Cheerios are pretty healthy. On the weekends however you should always have time for a real breakfast.

So let’s say that the dad starts work at seven in the morning and works till three so he can be home when the kids get home Mom on the other hand works from 9 to 6. So the kids trottle off to school and the school day ends. However Billy has little league right after school and the other two come home on the bus. At 4 Jamie has dance class and at 4:30 Kerry has karate. Then Dad has to rush over to the school and get Billy so he can be at Piano class at 5:00. Then it’s back to pick up Jamie and Kerry and take both of them to pottery class. Mom picks up Billy and Dad gets high on terracotta fumes. The family is back with each other at I’ll say 6:30. Pretty busy day right. Now one of them we’ll either open up a box for dinner or stop at KFC or Boston Market or at worst Burger King. When asked why didn’t they cook they’ll say we didn’t have time. By the schedule you’d think they were right well their not!

There’s at least two to three opportunities to cook something far healthier than out of a box. First off the morning Mom could get up and put something like a roast or a chicken in a slow cooker for the day and it’d be ready by the time you got home. Don’t worry a slow cooker is designed to be left on even when your not there. Another great thing to make is Slow-Cooker Chili. Then with just a few vegetables that would take about 10 minutes they’d have dinner at 6:40 OR when they all get back do something that every family should do and that’s make dinner together. Billy Jamie and Kerry can each do a job in the kitchen. If you do that most meals can be done in 30 minutes. And their eating a fresh healthy meal at seven. 2 hours to digest and its off to bed at nine. My how hard was that.

If you want go check out www.warcorpse666.blogspot.com for my growing list of recipes

What is the most powerful word in the world? My daughter asked me that today. Naturally, having been raised in the Christian persuasion, I said, “Ah hell, honey, love. Duh.”

And then I thought about living in California for two years, and I couldn’t help but remember the fruity-tutti’s (newagers – don’t worry I love them all) saying that the word “hate” was so powerful and destructive that they don’t even say it. Ever. Bad vibration. That’s pretty powerful.

And then I really got into it. D*mn, hell, shit, f**k, bastard, bitch, the “c” word (that I don’t quite like but have started using on occasion while driving, but only in reference to certain bastards who deserved that extra little itty bit more…) Those words are so powerful that they’ve been banned from most mainstream media outlets…

But no; it couldn’t be swear words. Those are ultimately an expression of a persons weakness in a way…(but you gotta love them. And I do.)

So what is the most powerful word in the world? Well, my daughter proceeded to tell me that two of her friends – one guy, one girl - totally unrelated, had randomly come up with the same word.

Maybe.

The guy said he thought it was the most powerful word in the word because it left one hoping. As in, “Maybe there’ll be a good reason for getting out of bed today…if I do.”

The girl said that by using the word “maybe” one could continue holding the reins for as long as one wanted (my own paraphrasing). Which kept her in the drivers seat. Certainly a most powerful position to be in.

Such a simple conversation. But after it was over I suddenly remembered one of the things I hated most about my ex-husband: his favorite word (words): “It depends.” Which is another version of “maybe”.

He kept me dangling for ten years with those words.

Example: “Do you think you, (I, we) should (could, can, will) do this (that, the other thing) honey?”

“It depends.”

Or: “What do you think about this, dear?”

“It depends.”

I kept waiting for an answer, thinking I’d get one. But I never did. Talk about treading water. Until I left the pond for happier shores (horizons).

After much thought, it turns out that I do believe that “maybe” is the most powerful word in the world. Only I tend to subscribe to the “masculine” persuasion: the idea that “maybe” holds a promise of something good to come if I do something to make it happen (as in get out of bed, leavea bad marriage, etc.)…

…as opposed to the “feminine” persuasion: the idea that one can hold onto control indefinitely by refusing to take a stand.

What do you think is the most powerful word in the world? I’m curious.

Firstly, I feel it important to point out that sex doesn’t make the relationship, but it sure does fill in those awkward silences quite nicely.

Women; please don’t refer to it as a Tally whacker. If you are talking about our penis; call it by its God given name; Kilauea. OK, You can call it a penis, pecker, cock, dick, Willy the One eyed Wonder Worm or the Heat Seeking Moisture Missile.

Now, let me point out that there is no such thing as a bisexual man. Women can be bisexual, and that is one of the most beautiful things on earth. At least in the videos it is. Realistically, the women that like women only are more like guys than guys. They dress, talk, act and chew tobacco, like fucking storm troopers and parade outside abortion clinics looking to score with poor unsuspecting and emotionally downtrodden girls that just had society and an asshole of a guy dump on them. You know: easy prey. I have to applaud the idea no matter how Jay and Silent Bob-esque it is.

Fags and Dikes are not bisexual. They ONLY like their own kind. Women can be bisexual. Men cannot be bisexual because you either suck dick or you don’t. I know there are those people out there that say that if they could suck their own dick they would never leave the house. I say go right the fuck ahead and stay home because now you’re just another fag with a dick in your face, even if it is your own dick! After establishing this we can move on.

Women use sex to get what they want. With men; sex IS what they want. I call this a symbiotic relationship. We want what you can give us but we have to give you what you want to get it. Make this easier for both of us. Ask for your spoils WHILE you give us oral sex.

Acting like you don’t like sex doesn’t work either. I’ve heard you screaming out God’s name, my name, your ex-boyfriends name, and even your own damn name while you gouge your fingernails through the sheets, the back of my head, and my butt cheeks. So STOP it! If you didn’t like sex you wouldn’t own that pink plastic torpedo named BUZZ!

Women act like they aren’t ready to bump uglies when you meet them because they want to seem virtuous. You aren’t really virgins, all dressed in white cotton panties and experiencing booze and these naughty feelings for the first time. You just want respected and you think that we won’t respect you if we think you’ll give it up easy. If the truth be told; we probably wouldn’t be hanging around if we didn’t think you were going to give it up in the first place.

We really do respect girls who know what they want and don’t put up airs that they aren’t looking to get laid. Ok, I’m lying. We really don’t respect anyone, so don’t think that it matters if you were easy to hop in the sack with or not.

Refer back to the alcohol statement about men and fat chicks and you will understand better WHY you woke up with Buford B. Blue inside your apartment frying up a mess O’ grits an m’lasses last weekend. Booze is a two way street. The difference is that a woman knows BEFORE she goes out whether she’s getting laid that night. Guys pretty much have to wing it.

The drunker you get, the more likely we are getting lucky. The drunker we get, the more likely we are going to get a D.U.I., because once we are fucked up enough we lose all perception of volume, couth and time. We get loud, obnoxiously forward, and then suddenly realize that the bar closed a half an hour ago. One more shot for the ditch and the next thing we can focus on are the shiny tops of the police officer’s jack boots that we just puked fourteen shots of Jack Daniels on during the roadside sobriety test.

You get giggly, somber, and /or downright unruly when you get drunk. If we play our cards right, we get you ladies just loaded enough to convince you to take us home while not so drunk that we have to wash the vomit off before we use you as a human trampoline. In other words we end up with Miss Right Now.

Alcohol is a treacherous thing though. Many times while stalking for the right trophy babe to ply with alcohol a pretender pops into the scene and we end up with a coyote girl sleeping on our arm in the morning. Yes, we would rather gnaw an arm off than take the chance of waking Bubbles the Dancing Bear up by pulling it out from under her head.

I am so f**king  tired. You – you know exactly who you are – betrayed me. You betrayed my trust. What is wrong with you? Do you have some mechanism built into your genetic code that compels you to destroy anyone who tries to be nice or good to you? To be your friend? You must hate yourself so deeply that you can’t help it. I can’t think of any other thing that would explain it.

Do you think about anyone other than yourself? What were you thinking when you sent that letter? You know it had no business being sent. But you took it and sent it. It’s my fault for writing it. I should have never written it. People shouldn’t have such vile anger in them, but I do, and I put it away, safe in a letter, and I buried it where I thought it would be left alone to dissipate in it’s own good time. But you sniffed it out, and you dug it up and you sent it. You wanted to hurt someone and you used my words to do it, because you have no self-esteem.

You have no “center” to write an evil f**ked up letter like that from. So you take other peoples’ evil f**ked up shit, and you orchestrate it into your own little symphony of hell and you throw it at people. You aim to kill. You’ve betrayed everyone who has ever tried to help you. Your relentless need for bigger and worse and more grandiose trauma, and the hell you’ve created with that need, has destroyed any feelings of kindness or compassion anyone might have for you, any desire someone might have to be in your presence, so you try to “trick” kindness or attention out of them, by f**king with them.

Years and years of this game has destroyed your credibility. You know that, don’t you? You might not admit it, but you know it. You’ve lost your credibility, so you used mine, and my stupid, personal, private letter - my little rage-filled rant - to make one more big f**kng mess that you can star in. Congratulations. You’re back where you belong: Center Stage. You’ve out-done yourself once again.

You are so addicted to trauma and hell, you make a mockery of the words “trauma queen”. You just ended any compassion or desire for compassion I have left. I’m sorry. You f**king don’t know when to stop, do you? You see life and you take your little knife and rip a big f**king hole in it, so that all your hell can pour through it into other peoples’ lives. And when you’re done, after having learned nothing, gained nothing, changed nothing, you just go find another life to rip a hole in. The irony here is that I wrote that letter on your behalf, because I felt that you were being mistreated, but I was wrong. You asked for what you got. I just failed to see the truth. I let my sentiment and compassion blind me to the reality of the whole f**ked up mess. And now I feel nothing. Disgust maybe. Betrayal. O.k. so I feel something. Big f**king wow.

What pleasure can you possibly get from that? Did you think about the consequences of sending that letter? At all? Did it occur to you that there would be repercussions? For a lot of people? I genuinely want to know. Well, I guess I would if I wasn’t too tired of your hellshit and my anger to care anymore. God, I’m a fool. A f**king blind fool. I don’t know. Maybe I’m arrogant for thinking that caring or giving a shit, or anything I thought or felt or hoped for in this whole pile of shit, mattered.

I just walked out of a lot of doors. I don’t know what else to do. I closed them and locked them and I’m not going back into them – the ones that haven’t already been locked on me. I could go knock on doors and beg forgiveness or mercy and try to make things right but I don’t want to work this shit out anymore. I’m tired. It never ends. It’s pointless. Maybe some things you just have to walk away from.

I’m not sending this letter to you. I’m done with you. You can sniff this letter out, if you give enough of a f**k, but I know you don’t. I suspect that the only way this letter might mean something to you, is if you see an opportunity to use it to manipulate or f**kwith someone. As far as that other letter goes: you can take it, and you can frame it, and put it on your wall; it’s your little victory, isn’t it? Bravo for you.

Why am I putting this letter here? Maybe because I want to be center stage. I don’t know. I think the reason why though, is that I have a feeling that I’m not the only person in the world to feel betrayed. Maybe out there, there’s a soul who’ll read this, and it’s just what they need, to walk away from a bad situation. Maybe. Maybe somewhere, a million miles away, a speck of good can come out of my hell – and yours.

Maybe I just don’t have anywhere else to put it. F**king pathetic.

It always gets down to taking responsibility for your actions. As far as my own personal responsibility goes: maybe I shouldn’t have ever written that letter. Anger can be so destructive. So I f**ked up letting it out. Maybe instead, I should have written a nice little polite, politically correct “heads up” letter to all the people I mentioned in that letter, expressing some general feelings that have been “bugging” me - some ongoing “issues”, and asked if they’d be willing to talk about the whole situation. That would have been the mature thing to do. But that’s all we ever do. Talk talk talk talk talk. f**king empty shallow meaningless futile words accentuated with all the right facial expressions, all the right hand gestures. And when all is said and done, it all goes right back to what it was.

I get so tired of the “nice” face that people put on. The f**king Facebook face. The face that posts links to books about forgiveness and then blocks the person with whom forgiveness needs to happen. What the f**k is that? I’m just taking a wack at it but if I had to put a name on that, I’d call it hypocrisy. If you do talk, you talk about stuff all polite and proper and politically correct and it ends up amounting to nothing more than another ass kissing session. You agree to the unanimous conclusion that the shit has been aired, talked about and mutually resolved; you say your pleasant goodbyes, and walk away from the problem only to find that the pile of shit is there, still there. Nothing has changed, nothing has been resolved, it’s all right there exactly as it was. Life goes on, the bomb goes off again and all f**king hellfire breaks loose. Again. And everyone is just so astounded at how shocking and horrible and nuts it all is. How could it happen again?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stupid. Maybe I think about stuff too much. Maybe I should just let it go and get on with my life, avoiding anyone or anything that might bring me nearer to that pile of shit. That’s what everyone else seems to be doing. Maybe I should just take my cue from them and go on my merry little way with a big smile plastered on my face.

F**k me. I’m just crying because I thought I could be a superhero for a moment. I thought I could do good and have it make a difference. I’m just another arrogant, self-righteous prick. I just wanted to be special.

It must be about something else. Maybe I’ll look at things in a different way and see if I can find the clue that I’m missing. The tiny piece of the puzzle that makes shit “make sense”.