Something tells me you may have some differing opinions.

Well, then why don’t we just get together on it… we could offer “two women’s opinions” or some shit. And then be like, “Choose either of these, or choose your own adventure and reject both of them.” Or something.

Melissa:

Word.

My Significant Other seems to have an unhealthy fixation with you and your blog, and I’m going to put all my cards town on the table here — I’m jealous. Jealous of the attention she affords you. Jealous as a duck swimming in battery acid watching ducks in the pond across the road swim in a freshwater pond with a charming, bubbling fountain.

Whenever I confront her about it, she responds with another excessive proclivity of hers: she demands to “just fucking talk about it” rather than “address the problem.” Coupled with an unhealthy scepticism (she is fond of exclaiming, “are you kidding me?!”), this makes for a ponderous emotional challenge. We ARE “just fucking talking about it!” But she just repeats her demand like a broken record.

Something tells me your response is probably going to be, “Just fucking talk ab–”

Aw, FUCK!! DAMN! Gotta go.

Peace!

To paraphrase… Girl’s boyfriend gets massages sometimes. One day, he confesses to her that sometimes he lets the masseuse “finish him off.” Girl is appalled and feels this is tantamount to cheating. Guy insists it’s no big deal, it’s just an “enhanced massage,” and lots of guys do it. Girl wonders whether she is overreacting.

You: just fucking talk about it.

Her: Okay, we discussed it. I told him that I was uncomfortable with this because it violates, in a fundamental way, our expressed and mutual desire for monogamy. He said that he is being monogamous because a.) doesn’t love her - he comes home to me and b.) it is his biological imperative to disseminate his child-producing swimmer thingies in as many women as possible (preferably in their throats but he’s not picky.) So, we talked about it, as you suggested, and we still don’t have an understanding with which I’m comfortable.

You: Are you fucking kidding me?

And then I would chime in with the classic: fuck that noise.

‘Sometimes he lets’. That’s interesting.

Well, right. It absolves him of responsibility. He’s merely a passive recipient of the masseuse’s action. Alternatively, he’s indulging the masseuse’s wants.

‘Sometimes he lets’. That’s interesting.

Surprisingly enough, there are ways to talk to another person that are more effective than others — thus, the marriage therapist business is in no danger of being destroyed by “Just talk about it.”

Well, obviously. And you know I would never downplay the importance of counseling… hell, let’s count how many years of it I’ve had and the myriad ways it’s helped me become less fucked up. But I was talking about popular magazine advice columns specifically; maybe I wasn’t clear enough.