Marriage. Just saying the word conjures up images of men in rented tuxedoes and women in ugly dresses they paid too much for which will never be worn again. Well, that's the wedding. Marriage is what happens after the wedding and at some point after the honeymoon. By the way, should the bride really wear white these days?
Anyway, marriage sets in more slowly for men than women. For men, it's just another day that leads to him getting laid. He also gets to sit in a hot tub. More than likely, his new wife has suddenly developed an interest in what she considers "kinky." This is usually alright for the guy.
Once the blissful couple is home, however, things change. Your girlfriend has suddenly become your wife. Your house is now hers. You can no longer sleep at your place tonight when you get pissed at her.
Why do women expect you to suddenly give up all the things she used to think were cool? Moreover, why do these dipshits allow it? You're married, not the "Prisoner of Zenda." Grow some nuggets, you pussy.
I mean, I've known new wives who made (made? GTFOH) their husband sell his motorcycle. That's the same motorcycle she was on the back of a few weeks ago in her halter top with her legs wrapped around his waist. Suddenly, though, she doesn't like it and he doesn't need it.
I've known new wives who demanded that her husband now cut his hair, quit his band, and sell his guitar. Why? Because they're married and he doesn't need that stuff anymore. Doesn't need that stuff anymore? Huh? Like she is somehow able to replace a screaming bend, a rapid fire arpeggio, or badass sweep from the lows to the highs. You expect him to give up the feeling he gets with his hair in his face, eyes closed, playing by feel? Bullshit. At least, that's how I play. Said pansy may play differently, I don't know.
What does she give up? Let's see. She gets a house. She still has her car. She probably still has her fucking cat and your dog just got moved outside. She still has every fucking stuffed animal she's ever owned (which now reside in what used to be his TV room) and every dress she's worn to any high school dance (in the closet of the room that used to be his TV room). Wait, she can't cat around the bars with her friends like she used to do, flirting with every guy who came her way only to cock-block him with her engagement ring. Yeah, devastating.
At some point this guy realizes that he is now married. He also realizes that he let her get away with a bunch of silly bullshit that he would not have tolerated before placing that over-priced band of gold on her finger. Then, he gets fat (he stopped playing sports because he had to constantly work on shit his wife assigned him), he drinks too much (it helps numb him long enough to make it through the night), and makes up any excuse to be away from her. Ah, wedded bliss.
Anyway, marriage sets in more slowly for men than women. For men, it's just another day that leads to him getting laid. He also gets to sit in a hot tub. More than likely, his new wife has suddenly developed an interest in what she considers "kinky." This is usually alright for the guy.
Once the blissful couple is home, however, things change. Your girlfriend has suddenly become your wife. Your house is now hers. You can no longer sleep at your place tonight when you get pissed at her.
Why do women expect you to suddenly give up all the things she used to think were cool? Moreover, why do these dipshits allow it? You're married, not the "Prisoner of Zenda." Grow some nuggets, you pussy.
I mean, I've known new wives who made (made? GTFOH) their husband sell his motorcycle. That's the same motorcycle she was on the back of a few weeks ago in her halter top with her legs wrapped around his waist. Suddenly, though, she doesn't like it and he doesn't need it.
I've known new wives who demanded that her husband now cut his hair, quit his band, and sell his guitar. Why? Because they're married and he doesn't need that stuff anymore. Doesn't need that stuff anymore? Huh? Like she is somehow able to replace a screaming bend, a rapid fire arpeggio, or badass sweep from the lows to the highs. You expect him to give up the feeling he gets with his hair in his face, eyes closed, playing by feel? Bullshit. At least, that's how I play. Said pansy may play differently, I don't know.
What does she give up? Let's see. She gets a house. She still has her car. She probably still has her fucking cat and your dog just got moved outside. She still has every fucking stuffed animal she's ever owned (which now reside in what used to be his TV room) and every dress she's worn to any high school dance (in the closet of the room that used to be his TV room). Wait, she can't cat around the bars with her friends like she used to do, flirting with every guy who came her way only to cock-block him with her engagement ring. Yeah, devastating.
At some point this guy realizes that he is now married. He also realizes that he let her get away with a bunch of silly bullshit that he would not have tolerated before placing that over-priced band of gold on her finger. Then, he gets fat (he stopped playing sports because he had to constantly work on shit his wife assigned him), he drinks too much (it helps numb him long enough to make it through the night), and makes up any excuse to be away from her. Ah, wedded bliss.
