A Public Service Announcement for those of you contemplating marriage (dedicated to Amir)
Written by betakappa on 4/20/2007 11:47:00 PM**** added 3/6/07 - it has come to my attention that a fellow blogger and good friend, Tash has written a counter to this article. check it out at : Contemplating marriage? Nice ****
I was talking with a bunch of guys(over a few beers)last night and we got a consensus of at least ten guys that the following is what lies ahead for you in marriage. So think carefully, very VERY carefully before you pop the question.
Year one: Sex, sex, sex. All that you could want. On the floor, in the bathroom, the car, the beach. Every time you’re alone, you end up banging like rabbits. Nothing is off limits. Nowhere you won’t lick, tickle or tease. Each and every time you look at her naked body, you are filled with gratitude that God has given you this piece of ass.
Year two: It slows down, but you try your best to keep it hot just out of fear. You don’t want to become one of those couples. But things have changed, and you know it. No more spontaneous blowjobs. Things are more routine, now, but that’s OK because you’re still getting it regular and you’re happy. Besides, sex isnt the most important part of your relationship, right?
Years 3-5: Along comes the house and the kids. Through it all, you find less and less time or reason to do it. You go from 7 orgasms or more a week down to probably just once a month. You get a bloated beer belly and your love handles begin to turn into big bulges. She starts to gets flabby with baby weight that just won’t go away. The second kid is even worse. She’s now so loose you can’t even come inside her. When you do get to have sex with her, it’s like fucking a bowl of bubur ayam mcD (with the chicken chunks), and she's not enjoying it one bit.
Years 5-7: You decide to get back in shape, a vain attempt to revive your sex life. You get trimmed down at the gym, almost to where you were before marriage. She gives it a half-hearted effort, and doesn't make any progress. She refuses to wear any lingerie you buy her, instead coming to bed in a T-shirt. You now have to beg and schedule sex, which is cold and lustless. By now, you are masturbating regularly. In the shower, at work, anywhere, anytime you are alone. But the effect is minimal and you are constantly horny. For the first time, you will be contemplating divorce. You’ll visit websites about it and maybe glance through them whenever you pass a bookstore. No purchases yet.
Years 7-9: You find yourself staring in amazement at this woman and trying to remember when she was even remotely attractive. Want a preview? Picture your girlfriend, now double the thickness of her arms. Imagine her ass all flattened and her legs thicker and more muscular, much like tree stumps. When you do manage to convince her to make love, she usually quickly gets on her knees for you to enter her from behind and asks you not to fuck up her bowl of chips while she watches TV. She’s as dry as the Sahara and the scent of unwashed ass wafts up as you’re trying to bang her. She is hoping for another baby, but it seems unlikely - your stomach churns at the thought of it. By now you’ve had an affair or two. Maybe the office bicycle or a couple of hookers now and then, but the stress of it is too much for you to handle. You are in disbelief that you actually now masturbate in bed beside her as she snores.
Year 9: It’s over. You occasionally score some outside pussy, but it’s expensive. Your wife now openly scorns any advances you make. If you suggest she get in shape, she labels you a bastard. According to her, real men like women with curves, not sticks. Curves are great, you think, but not rolls and rolls of fat. She stopped shaving ages ago. Now, hair is everywhere, matted and thick. You hope to God she’s banging someone on the side, but you know it’s unlikely anyone would be that depraved. You try to titty fuck her, but she doesn’t like that. There’s now no way to have an orgasm while you’re in physical contact with her.
Year 10: You can’t sleep through the night. Even masturbating doesn’t help. You surf the Web for porn or drink into the wee hours of morning, praying for death’s sweet release to come and take you or her. (preferably her) You’ve talked with a lawyer. Its simple. The divorce would leave you living with your parents while all your income would go towards maintaining your wife and kids. Plus, you love the kids. You can’t bear the thought of splitting up their family. Your future stretches before you like a desert, scorching and sucking the life out of anything that crosses it.
