A Shame

There is a friend of mine who takes umbrage when I call her ‘short’. But come on, 5’2”(157cm) is short, especially to a giant like me.

Hmmm…if I am ever in Cebu again, and we are walking down the street together, I know what I’ll do.
I’ll slow down just a little, glance down at her little butt and say.
‘It’s obvious that you folks don’t have any building inspectors here. It’s such a shame that they built the sidewalk so close to your ass!’

I will laugh and she will hit me.

It's not Easy!

It’s not easy, having to drive fifty miles to work each day. But that’s the way it is.
Some days, when I have to see the Dentist or Doctor, I get to work from home. It’s either that or take the whole day off. That’s a waste of vacation pay and it just isn’t productive.
And then I hear you say, “Oh you are so lucky Warty, you get to work from home!”
Well, maybe.
Sure, at home, there is some peace and quiet. No bosses looking over your shoulder. No chatting with coworkers over the cubicle walls, distracting you. But you know, it’s not easy, for there are quiet distractions.

For when I work from home, I can usually focus on my work and ignore the little noises I hear, ignore the movement I see out of the corner of my eye. But not always.

For sometimes; when I am staring at the screen, trying to organize my data, figure the formula for the next little piece of data, and WG walks by.
Broad shoulders with a yellow tank top that fits her smooth lines and gentle curves. A slim waist that tapers down just the right amount, to delicious hips that move in a way that can befuddle a man's thoughts. Blue jeans that fit over a nicely rounded tush. They say a wave out on the ocean, could never move that way.
It can’t, for this vision can sweep you away like no other.

The vision passes from sight and I turn back to the screen. ‘Now where was I?’ I try to collect my thoughts.

An email pops up, or an IM message, maybe the phone rings. I can easily take care of each one, then turn my thoughts back to the task at hand. Simple. But remove the vision that can cloud my mind? Difficult.

And back to work, move the numbers, compose the email.

And a voice from the back of the house says, “Oh my goodness, look at the time. I haven’t even showered yet. I’ll be late for work!”

My wife is far enough away not to be a distraction. But there is a little voice whispering in my head now.
‘She is in the shower, wet and ….You know what that means!’
‘Oh shut up!’ I tell myself.
‘It’s okay, you have a license!’

But I am at work, so what if it’s just a desk in the corner of my house. I am at work.
So I push those thoughts out of my head, but I can hear them mumble. ‘Oh, you’re no fun anymore.’

When I get to work from home, at times, it’s just not easy!

Have you no taste?

I guess I should not be surprised to hear that you had a sex dream. What with the way you bad-mouth you husband in public. You constantly belittle his equipment and then you complain that he doesn’t use it enough on you! Darlin, you have told him, in public, that it isn’t worth the bother and now you wonder why he doesn’t bother?

So it comes as no surprise to hear that since you aren’t getting any in real life, that you have to dream about getting it.

One would expect to hear that your dream had Mr. Hunky-stud-puppy in it. After all, I have seen the way your (and WG’s) eyes light up when he enters the room.

But Please! Having a sex dream about the Warthog? I would think you would want it to be a nice dream! Getting naked with the Warthog would be unpleasant, at best. (I am sure that most of my female friends would agree) At worst, it would be a nightmare! (no need for my readers to agree with that. :-)

Sure, I know most guys would love to hear that some good looking gal was having dreams about him. Especially if it involved wild monkey sex!

I just thought you had better taste.

The Sargasso Princess.

I have had that title on my mind for years, not knowing how to use it.
And now I can use it.

Because the way I see it, she should probably put the white flag above her door and raise her arms in surrender.

You set your course for the furthest shores And you never once looked back

Maybe not go down with the ship, but jump off and swim for another. Better to risk a maelstrom (or three), than the doldrums she seems headed for.

‘For the winds of chance, they will bear me straight’ And you spoke as though you knew

For I fear she will end up as another Sargasso Princess. Stuck in the vast warm sea that never moves.
No wind to billow her sails, no current to move her hull. Never going forward, never back. Forever hoping to reach what she can’t get to.

Better to risk a hurricane’s excitement, than aimless drifting.

One hopes she abandons the ship.

The lines and the borders are gone

I think that I have told you about how Tommy will not enter the kitchen unless there are specific conditions, like the doorbell ringing. You can drop a piece of cheese six inches from the imaginary line, just past the doorway, and he will not enter the kitchen, cross that line and eat the cheese. At least not until you leave the room.
He does the same thing at friends houses. Vinyl floors are the forbidden zone! (well, he is part border-collie)

But now we have no (vinyl) kitchen floor and the imaginary line seems to have vanished!
Tommy keeps coming further and further into the kitchen and then he lies down in the middle of the forbidden zone and watches me make dinner! Today, when I turned from the sink he was right behind me, a full ten feet into the forbidden zone!

I just don’t know what will happen when we put down the stone tile. I think there is a rift in the space-time continuum and the imaginary lines and the borders are gone!

It may be a whole new world for the Tommy-dog!

The Wedding

It was simply a beautiful wedding
And a solid, good, well-planned reception.

We got off the boat at the Couer d'Alene golf course and took our seats. We were just at the edge of the beach, the lake forming a glistening backdrop. The hot sun beating down on us distracted us for a while. (Okay, so there were rivulets of sweat pouring down my back and chest)
Then the bride arrived, looking pretty and happy. The ceremony started and the Minister sped things up. He knew we were wilting in the heat.
It was a beautiful ceremony. Hard to pin down what made it so good, but it just was.

And then we were off to the reception just up the hill. Nice shade in the huge canopy. A cold beer in my hand and I was feeling a little better. Time to mingle, get some food, sit back and look at the smiling people. Especially the bride and groom. It’s so nice to see two people who were so looking forward to their life together. And because everything was going well, they could enjoy their day.
They are smart, good-looking kids. And they look good together. It’s funny how people compare the bride to Barbie, but she does look the part. Hmmm…no one compared the groom to a Ken doll. You know, I cannot remember what the Ken doll looked like.
But I digress.

Anyway, just a wonderful day. I am glad that things went well.

Don't Even!

Don’t Even be jealous of our authentic, rustic, plank flooring! (complete with black tarpaper spots)

Wonderful looking, isn’t it. Maybe I should just put a coat of varnish on it?
Well, here is the story. About four weeks ago, the lazy-susan began to stick a little. I thought it just needed adjusting, but when I looked closer, I saw mold inside the cabinet. Not supposed to be there.
So I pulled off the lower panel of the dishwasher and saw where water had been leaking. Traced it up to the soap dispenser. When I pulled the dispenser off, I could see where the O-ring was falling apart. So off to the garage and look in my plumbing parts drawer. Sure enough, I had an O-ring that was just the right size. Within a half hour the thing was fixed.
Wonder-Girl was a little disappointed that I was able to fix it, she said wanted a new dishwasher. (ours is ten years old)
The vinyl flooring was spongy so Wonder-Girl began pulling it up and found water under it. The underlayment was also wet and falling apart. Okay, so it is time for a new floor.

It did bother me that there was evidence of a lot of water. More than I could account for by the little leak in front.

The O-ring held for about a week, then it began to drip again. I told Wonder-Girl that I was not going to try and fix it again and trust it not to leak. Let’s just get a new dishwasher. (that made her happy)

So when I pulled out the dishwasher, I found that there was another leak at the drain in the wall. Our dishwasher has it’s own drain since it is too far from the sink.

And I find that there was a recall on our dishwasher because of the front leak. Seems that Maytag has had a few catch fire. The nice thing is that we will get $75 off the new dishwasher.

So three weeks ago, we tear up the old underlayment. I am sure that you know what that is like! It took us two days. I kept pressuring Wonder-Girl to choose between vinyl flooring or ceramic tile. I needed to know so I could buy the right underlayment.

Wonder-Girl made her decision, tile, and we bought a bunch of Hardi-back and I spent last weekend putting that down. And we put down tar paper again as a moisture barrier. It worked really well before.
We were supposed to leave for vacation on the Friday, but we postponed it till Monday. That gave me the weekend to get the underlayment down.

Monday morning, jump in the car and drive 900 miles to Spokane, Washington. (okay, we did it in two days. I didn’t want to drive 16 hours in one day!)

So we fled the floor and it’s problems. We can forget about it as we watch the preparations for our niece's wedding.

Hydrant Collection

My Brother in Law refurbishes
old fire hydrants.




(only for special people).
I guess we qualify,
since he gave us one this trip.












Wonder-Girl already has a place for it in our front yard.
Maybe we will make it into a fountain, maybe not.
We shall see.
Anyway, here are some that he has finished
and a few he is still working on.

Girl's day

Yes, it is amusing, watching all the wedding preparations, how so much of the wedding is just for the girls.
Seriously folks, we guys are so not worried about things. It their food? Are there cold things to drink? Here is the bride, here is the groom, there is the minister. Okay, everything is okay.
Yes, extra touches can make things go a little better. A little makeup makes the bride a little prettier. But she is already pretty. The groom is handsome. They are both nice people.
I am always amused by the fuss. I can sit here and look back over my 26 years of marriage; the wedding is the easy part and is only one day. If you think it’s that important, it is not. The important things are the work you put into a marriage, day in and day out.

So I do enjoy watching all the fuss.


Five hours to go.
I am relaxed. Our only job was to deliver the wedding dress. That is done and the responsibility is off our shoulders.

I need to take pictures.
I need to have fun
Such a tough assignment.

In the North

Well, we made it to Spokane. Two days, sixteen hours of driving, average speed almost 60MPH(95kph) That include stops for coffee, snacks and dinner.
The nice thing is that there were plenty of places where I could take the car up to 80(125 kph)
I suppose we(I) could have driven straight through, but it is much easier to do thirteen hours in one day, then an easy three the next. But I know if had done that, we would have arrived at 1am and been a complete zombie for a day or two.

We are all here for the nieces wedding. WaterMan and QotFN’s youngest daughter is getting married on Sunday. Looks like over 200 guests!. An Aunt and Uncle fly in this afternoon, the daughters arrive tonight, it will be a full house!

Lucky us, we are camped out in the 35-foot motorhome. While everyone inside will be frantic with wedding preparations and eight people fighting for three bathrooms, we have our own quiet bedroom, private bath, little kitchen (with a coffee maker)and couch to relax in. I tell you, we have the best place!

You can never fault QotFN on her hospitality. The little fridge is stocked with beer, wine, sodas. Why there is even a little candy dish with chocolate bars! Life will be too easy.

The other fun thing to do is watch the last minute scramble of wedding preparations. All we have to do is show up, so out part is easy.

Here they come again?

I had a small nightmare last week. It was about the plant I used to work at and the people I worked with.
I know why I had it, they have been on my mind these last few weeks. There was reunion party last weekend. A lot of my former coworkers we getting together.
I just couldn’t go. Part of me wanted to see them, part of me dreaded what it would do to me.

Because this is what I went through, as I watched my friends disappear, as they slowly closed the plant

==

DREAM THREE

4/29/02

I was at work and there was trouble. Accountants were scurrying around, trying to do things. The FBI, or someone like that, was investigating the company. There were discrepancies in the accounts and lots of money was missing. The main area of cubicles where this was taking place was right where my friend Lois worked. I tried circling the area, to try and see her. Maybe just so that she could see that I was there and was concerned. I know I could not go and talk to her. If I did, then I would be under suspicion.

One by one, the authorities would take someone to a conference room across the main hall and they would interrogate this person.

Again I circled the area of cubicles, but could not see my friend. I thought of sending her an email, just to let her know that I was nearby, but that would cast suspicion on me.

My friend had nothing to do with accounting, but she worked near them. I was sure that if they started looking at me, they would find something wrong. Maybe I made a mistake on an expense report. Maybe I slightly exceeded my authority on some matter. It didn’t matter what the little transgression was, they would hunt until they found one and I would be cast out like all the rest. It was a regular witch hunt.

The dream shifted, and I was talking to some woman who was the cause of all the problems. I knew she caused everything bad and that she was evil. I was looking around for one of the authorities, someone I could denounce her to. There was no one around and then the woman pulled out a gun and said she was going to start making her coworkers pay for not standing by her. I started talking to her, trying to convince her that not everyone was against her. I somehow convinced her that I was still her friend and that I would never do anything to allow her to be captured.

I do not remember exactly what happened next in the dream, but somehow we ended up back at my house.

The police had followed us and were trying to break down the front door. This woman handed me the small gun she had and then pulled out a larger one from her purse. She screamed that they would never get her, pulled open the closet door and dove for the hidden door in the back of the closet. This secret door led to the basement room. I followed her and when I looked through the secret door, this woman was on the table in the basement, crouched like a cat, gun pointing towards me. I could see my wife slumped on the floor, blood pooling next to her shoulder.

There was no more time to reason with this woman. I stepped back from the doorway, yelled something and emptied my gun into the wall. Then I jumped through the door, yelling that my gun was empty and that they were coming. I yelled that I needed more ammunition to hold them off.

This woman, who now began to look like this neurotic woman that my wife worked with in Reno; handed me her gun and wrapped her arms around me. I emptied my gun at the wall, to get the police’s attention. No one came to the doorway to help and I felt her grip tighten on me. I was now in serious trouble. I felt her clothes melt away. She was bleached white under her clothes and on her back was a set of black leathery wings. As she bit into my neck, I realized that she was a succubus and that I was moments away from having all my strength drained from me. If I didn’t call out for help, then no one would be able to save my wife.

I struggled to cry out, but could not. Finally, I managed to pull her arms off of me and push her back from me. She glared at me and hissed like a cat. I could barely hold her off as I struggled with all my might to scream!

Finally, I managed to scream!

And my wife was shaking me and telling me that it was okay and it was all some kind of bad dream.

I had cried out in my sleep and awakened her. I don’t think that I have ever done that before. I told her a little of the end of the dream and we snuggled together and she drifted back to sleep.

I have not been able to sleep. The headache I went to sleep with is still there. So I got up, took three more aspirin and decided to write it all down. Maybe then I would be able to go back to bed and sleep.

(As they began the slow shut down of the factory, I watched helplessly as all my friends, people I had known for twenty years, were slowly cut away and discarded. I had dreams like this for the six months leading up to the closure and then for almost two years after that. I don’t know how they all reacted to the closing, but I felt like the only person on the Titanic who had the one lifeboat. Six years have gone by and only recently did I finally have a nice dream about my old coworkers.)

Not even 28 days later.

After two days of 100 degree temps, and very dry, the noises in the downspout stopped.
I waited until the next weekend before I took the mesh off the downspout. Out dropped a little desiccated lump. Easily picked up with gloves and dropped into the nearby garbage can
No fuss, no muss. No more rat.

The Lonely boy

Yes, the Tommy-dog is quite lonely. WG flew up north yesterday, to visit her sister. Her sister’s youngest daughter is having a bridal shower and WG saw this as a good chance to visit her sister and her family.
So it’s just the boys. Not so much a problem for me, but Tommy knew something was up when we left for the airport last night. When I got home without WG, well, the little guy was kinda of moping around the house.
He is used to monitoring WG.

And you know, when she gets back, he will snub her for a day or so. I mean, how dare she! Who will give him extra love, and snacks? Mostly the snacks.

I just talked to her and it’s 69 degrees up there, 90 on my back deck. Amusing how I am sure that she wishes I was with her if only to keep her warm at night! Me, I don’t mind too much, it is far too hot for hugs and snuggles!

Got a chance to chat with Danger-Girl last night. Haven’t communicated much since my visit to Cebu. I think it’s a little amusing that only recently did I stumble across her email and IM address. Tidbits get left out there in the ether.
She seriously needs to put some more words down on the web. How else are we supposed to live precariously through her?

Lest you think I am now a man of leisure, you don’t know the powers that conspire against me!
Last Sunday, as we were unloading stones from my truck, Chemical-Girl came over and asked if she could help us. (She is such a devious creature)
When we were done, she grabbed a beer from her garage and came over to sit and chat on our back deck.
By the time I joined them, there was a hint of conspiracy in the air.

Later, after she had gone home, WG told me that she mentioned that she would be out of town, to CG. You know what, CG said, ‘I have a few project to do, can I borrow your husband?’
WG said, ‘Sure, just have him back by Tuesday.’
Why do you think I am glad that some of my female friends live so far away. I have too much to do already! I seriously don’t need to be lent out like some piece of farm machinery!

Add that to the ‘hints’ of things that WG wants me to do. No, there will be no rest for the wicked.

Add this heat to that and I will seriously not get any fun things done. Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun.
My dog isn’t mad, and I only have a little English in me. I’ll stay inside when it’s hot.

At least Tommy gets his morning walks.

Today I saw somebody

Who looked just like you,
She walked like you do.
I thought it was you.

Okay, it’s not quite like the song; but the other day I ran into someone’s almost double. (if she had really been a doppelganger, I would have left.)

I was waiting to get my haircut and I had just been called to the chair by the stylist. When I looked at her, she seemed familiar.
Dark hair, good looking, nice smile. Wearing blue jeans and a button-down, loose fitting, long sleeved shirt.
Something about her seemed familiar. I studied her in the mirror as she asked about how I wanted my hair cut.
Hmmm…face is similar, but more from the profile. Similar petite frame at about five-three or four. Black hair and naturally tanned skin.
Similar, as if she was a sister or a cousin. But that wasn’t what completed the picture.

Have you ever met someone who has a vibe, or aura around them? Something that tells you; yes, she could rock your world! It funny how some people exude a sensuality and I suspect that they don’t even know it. Even stranger is the people who seem to lack any sensuality about themselves. Stranger still are the ones who are perhaps extremely good looking, but you get no vibe from them. That indicates they would be as exciting as a dead fish.

And that’s what completed the picture. For this stylist had the same aura of sensuality about her that my friend has. (and no, I will not even give you a hint as to who she is. That would seriously embarrass her.)

And that is the interesting part. For like this stylist, my friend is an attractive woman. But what makes her much more attractive than someone who is better looking, is the vibe she gives off.
And that can make all the difference in the world.

Twenty-eight Days Later

Yesterday, I trimmed the jasmine in front. I really hacked it back a lot. As I was cleaning up the debris, I heard a strange noise. I looked up at the downspout and I could hear scraping noises coming from inside it. I knew right away what it was!
A roof rat!
Now we don’t get them very often, but once in a while, one tries to make a home in our yard. And I (with Tommy’s help) do my best to discourage it.

I have mentioned them before and how they are attracted to things like vegetable gardens.
We have a vegetable garden and I don’t want the bastard (assuming it is male, of course) eating our tomatoes.

Now I don’t know that I could coax him out of the downspout and if I could, I was probably not fast enough to whack him with a shovel. Now I could put the Tommy-dog on guard, but I doubt he is fast enough either.

So I did the only other sensible things. I went to my workbench and grabbed some three-inch deck screws. Now I knew that the top of the downspout was plugged by a wire mesh device meant to keep leaves from getting into the downspout and to keep the occasional rat from getting onto the roof. (they don’t call them roof-rats for nothing)
Now I used to keep little wire mesh plugs at the bottom of the downspouts, to keep the little bastards off the roof. I don’t worry as much now since I found the last secret entrance to the attic and I have plugged that up!
So I grabbed the old mesh plug and stuck it into the bottom of the downspout. Two deck screw driven through the aluminum downspout to hold the mesh in place and the little bastard was now stuck inside the downspout.

Now I am sure that the lunatics at PETA would be incensed, but this has now become a little experiment.
How long with the little bastard live?

We shall find out.

Secret Names

Along time ago, and possibly still today, people had secret names. There was your name that your family knew and there was your name that everyone else knew you by.
Why the secret name? Because if someone knew your secret name, they had power over you. Spells could be cast against you.

Today, we no longer believe in such nonsense, but perhaps we should?
For nicknames are now the secret names. Know your friend's nickname and maybe you can find them on the web.

I am sure that all of you, at one time or another, have Googled your own name. And if your name is even slightly common, you get 20,000 places to look. So if you want to find yourself, Google is not the place to look.
There have already been problems where someone applies for a position and they are turned down because someone Googled their name and saw the person drunk and acting stupid.

You are safe if you have a common name. Not safe if someone knows your nickname. Or, if you have a special, unusual email/social networking name.

Makes me wonder what might be out there. What secrets do my friends have hidden on the web? What parts of their soul have they bared?

And do I want to know?

And should I tell anyone if I find it?

Philosophical quandary

Dear Tee Shirt Girl,

I am faced with a deep philosophical quandary-
Specifically, at what point does one officially become a dirty old man?
My wife once said to me (when I was much younger and giving her a more than admiring look. Which I think is okay, since she is my wife. :-)
Anyway, she said, ‘You are a dirty old man.’
To which I had to respond with, ‘Excuse me! I am a dirty Young man. Someday, I hope to be a dirty old man!’

So, is it a matter of how old I am? Or is it relative to how old the woman is?
It is somewhat permissible for a thirty-year-old guy to ogle(to look at amorously, flirtatiously, or impertinently.) a twenty-five-year-old gal. And it’s okay for him to ogle a thirty-five-year-old gal. But a forty-five-year-old guy should not be ogling a twenty-five-year-old gal.

I think perhaps I need to poll a number of women and find out what they consider a D.O.M. to be.

That way, I will know when can I start wearing a tee shirt that says-

IT’S OFFICIAL!
I AM NOW A DIRTY OLD MAN!
(WOHOO!!) OR (YIPEE!!)

(And I sincerely hope that one of you is Bolera enough to say, ‘Oh Warty! You are much too young to wear that tee shirt!’)

Nothing much happens

A good boring weekend. Just painting the house.

We were just getting ready to start painting when Kimical Girl came over from next door. She said she liked to paint and offered to help. So we gave her the roller, Wonder-Girl took the lower cutwork, I took the higher cutwork. It worked out well and we got the stucco in front all painted. Rather nice of her to help.

Today we finished up the front siding and trim. Almost done with the whole house. Just the white trim on the back windows needs to be finished. WG will work on that a bit this week and then I’ll finish up. There are some parts of painting that I am just better at; there are some parts that WG is better at. I am really good at painting freehand. I don’t need tape or edge tools to paint the white woodwork where it hits the blue stucco. Maybe because I have patience.

So yes, we have quiet weekends where we just do a lot of work.

Fishing Buddy

I was going to write about the guy’s fishing trip and my fishing buddy. Fishing Buddy is rather cumbersome, so I thought I’d abbreviate it as FB.

I had to laugh, FB, no way GW will you use that abbreviation! Everyone knows(nowadays) it stands for Fuck Buddy.

Which reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine. She was describing how there was this guy she knew. If business took her to his city, they would spend time together. If business took him to her city, they would spend time together. They would go out to dinner, see the sights, movies, and…
And when they parted, there wasn’t a lot of communication until they were together again.
I said that he sounded like a FWB, Friends with Benefits. “Oh no.” She said. “I don’t know him well enough to call him a friend.”
“Well, how about Acquaintance with Benefits?”
“Yes, I like that.”

And you know, when I was young, we didn’t have fancy terms for someone who we liked enough to use on those occasions when we were horney.

I have never been in a situation like that, but I have talked to those who have. And I have noticed something. If the two can keep it at just friends, or realize that all they will ever be is friends,(maybe because of distance) then it’s okay.
But problems can develop if one develops feelings for the other. And then they are possibly stuck. Do they wait and hope the other develops feelings? Hide their own feelings and hurt. Or do they realize that they have to get out?
That must be a terrible situation to be in.

And I think back on those times where an ex-girlfriend wanted to get together with me. That was very different. She was in town for the weekend and wanted to have dinner with me. Or there was some strange problem with a household appliance and she wanted me to help. And if I spent the night, it was different. For me, there was no hope of something starting again. It had ended and there was no future. The wound had closed and the scars tissue healed. Ignore the fact that the wound would sometimes ooze a little blood from time to time.
And maybe, once or twice, I think there was an attempt on her part, to rekindle what we once had. But I knew that would never happen, despite the fact that I have always remained on good terms with an ex. When it ended, it was because we realized that it wouldn’t work between us. No one did anything terrible. No screaming or fighting. Just the realization that it wasn’t working.
So for one night, it was easy to slide into the warm, comfortable feeling we had.

And then you don’t hear from the person for months.

I suppose that made me just a ‘booty call’?

I’d like to think it was more.

Next to Nothing

You know, there are times you really want to pull someone aside and give them a talking to. Just to let them know that they are really screwing up.

I’d like to do that to a friend of ours, but I am not sure if it’s my place. I have seen her do this a number of times.
We are at a party and she has had a glass of wine or two. Just enough to loosen her already sharp tongue. Then someone throws some large sausages on the barbeque.
‘Oh wow!” She will exclaim. “Will you look at the size of these! I wish husband was half this size!” You go on, and on. We are already uncomfortable. Darling, you don’t disrespect your husband like this in public. None of us are as big as those sausages, and most of us know that if we were, women would have nothing to do with us. But you continue to tell us how his size isn’t enough, or it doesn’t last long enough, or it’s not used on you enough.
Yes, we get the picture, you will never be satisfied with what he has. We see the hurt in his eyes as you cut into him.

And then later, with maybe another glass of wine in you, you have the audacity to talk about wanting to get lucky later that night. And you will wonder why he is not interested.

Darling, you have already told him he is not wanted, so why would you be surprised if he shows no interest? Why would a guy want to go where he is not wanted?

And furthermore, you’re not the young hottie you used to be. There are a few extra pounds on you. Now it is good that you watch your weight and you go to the gym regularly. But dear, you no longer have the attractive figure that you once had. So if you want your man, then you need to give him some encouragement. Make him want you. But you do the opposite, and push him away.

And you fail to realize what a good guy you have. For when it’s just the guys, does he bad mouth you? Mention your fat ass? No. At most he might grouse a little about your shopping, or some other little thing that people like to complain about. Because you know, we all like to complain a little. But at most, it’s the little minor things that irk us all.
Things that if you heard them, you could easily defend yourself.

He has no defense and I hate to see him bleed.