When you just can't stomach the BS anymore.
This page is for those who spend hours contemplating whether it’s time to call it quits or hang in there and watch one more episode of Airwolf on Netflix.
“God what is wrong with her?” You ask under your breath. At least you thought it was under your breath until you hear, “What is wrong with who? Me?”
Quick – do you grunt? Conjure up the most erotic image you can think of and say, “I love you. How much longer do think you’ll be baby?” What’s the point? If there isn’t a lame “just a few more minutes” coming your way, there will most certainly be an “I don’t have to mess with you” retort.
Night after night you hope for some action, but you know it isn’t happening. But not for the reasons you think. Something much less sinister is going on than a plot to deprive you of pleasure and ruin you life. Here’s some encouraging news, it’s only a simple case of satisfactionitis. That’s right! The sense of satisfaction a woman gets from saying everything that’s on her mind to the cyber fans waiting for her brilliant manifesto. The seven minutes of heaven you can deliver doesn’t even come close.
Try to understand.
It’s a sad state of affairs, we know. Let it all out. If you forget to say it all the first time, just post another comment. Whatever it takes, we will wait for you to finish. Admission is the first step toward recovery. Take a moment each day to ask yourself, am I really going to let her blogging intimidate me? Put on your sexiest outfit, lean into the glow from the monitor and give her the most tender, sensuous kiss you know how. If she says, “Take me big fella,” you did the right thing. If you get punched in the gut and called an annoying goober, it’s best to move along.