Time for another installment of the Love Lounge. We’ve got more crap from Your Tango.com inside and this article is truly awful. Your Tango’s tagline is “Smart Talk About Love” which would be the most unintentionally hilarious thing ever written if it didn’t make me boil with anger. They should change their tag line to “bitter hedgehogs write ugly tripe about relationships.” What am I talking about? Come on in!
Today’s article is entitled “5 Things I Hate About My Marriage” one of the most bluntly ugly titles ever constructed and seemingly counter-intuitive for a site that claims to host “smart talk about love.” Smart talk about love might include suggestions for successfully naviagating the changes marriage brings to a relationship; a juvenile diatribe about selfish neuroses might not.
So we dive into this week’s offering knowing full well nothing good can come from this before even a single word of body text is written. Such are the perils of the Love Lounge. But that’s what I’m here for. Here we go…
Loving your husband does not mean that living with him is always easy.
By Jennifer Ginsberg from MomLogic.com
Yes, I love my husband and family and wouldn’t change a thing about our family unit.
Whenever anyone says something this expositional this earnestly, you know there’s a “But…” type of sentence to follow.
Now that I have made that obligatory statement, let me get to my point.
There are certain issues that I have with the institution of marriage, which offers both wonderful benefits and incredible challenges, often in the same day. Here are the five things I hate about marriage.
Five things she HATES about marriage. She’s actually using the word hate to describe her marriage. If you read this article out in the wild, you’re better off just hitting the back button on your browser and asking your local hobo for marriage advice because he’s likely got a more nuanced and sophisticated view of it than this uppity bitch.
1) Bathroom sharing. Frankly, there is no man on the planet with whom I would willingly share a bathroom (except perhaps an out-of-the-closet gay male with pathological OCD). In my experience, men have horrible toilet aim, hog up my precious counter space, are oblivious when toilet paper rolls run out, soil all bath towels and don’t think to replace them, and steal my nail clippers no matter how well they are hidden.
There are so many things wrong with this paragraph, it’s hard to know where to begin. So let’s just dive in.
a) I love that she’s bitching about all of this in public on the Internet instead of broaching the subject with the poor sap she’s married to. If his use of your nail clippers is really such a damnable offense, why don’t you just ask him to stop? Or buy him his own nail clippers? Or just get more nail clippers? And seriously… nail clippers? What’s the big deal? Are they made of gold? Are we talking about Scrooge McDuck’s nail clippers? Can’t you buy a set of three nail clippers from Walgreens for less than $5? WHAT IS THE ISSUE HERE?
b) Back to my original point: This is some of the most petty shit I’ve ever read, and is easily fixed with a simple conversation. One time Lady E asked me to put the toilet seat down so our cats wouldn’t drink out of the toilet and get sick, so I did. But I suppose if you can forgo a simple conversation in favor of shaming this poor bastard in a public forum, you’ve got to do it, right?
c) Consider all the implications of living with an “out of the closet gay male with pathological OCD” and tell me if that’s truly preferable to living with your husband.
2) Bed sharing. The bed can be used in many fun and exciting ways in marriage, but when it comes to sleep, I much prefer to fly solo. I am a very light sleeper, and once I am awakened, it is nearly impossible for me to get back down. Between my covers being inadvertently ripped off and scratchy toenails accidently brushing against me, a good night’s sleep is often impossible for me to obtain. A few nights a week I find myself wide awake at 3 am with nothing to do but listen to the sound of my husband breathing-the most irritating noise imaginable during an insomniac episode.
Okie dokie, Jennifer’s husband’s breathing is “the most irritating noise imaginable during an insomniac episode.” This certainly doesn’t do any favors in corroborating her claim that “Yes, I love my husband and family and wouldn’t change a thing about our family unit.” Sure. Because the level of annoyance you convey above can be most likened to a psychopathic prisoner contemplating murdering a cellmate in the middle of the night rather than having any trace of affection for this man you’ve exchanged vows with.
If I were Jennifer’s husband, I’d crush up an Ambien every night for her and put it in her chocolate pudding like how you get a dog to take its heart worm medicine.
3) Nonstop compromise. Because I am a woman, I really think I should get my way all the time. I want Thai food for dinner, then I want to take a relaxing bubble bath, after which I want to watch the Real Housewives reunion. You want sushi, sex, and UFC. Who wins? If I get my way, you mope. If you get your way, I’m pissed. If we meet in the middle, neither of us are happy. Suggestions, anyone?
Oh yeah, God forbid we compromise. Who is this woman? Is this secretly Dick Cheney writing this article in drag? She doesn’t negotiate with her terrorist husband? And is Dick Cheney in drag not the funniest visual you’ve had all day? Who’s to say you can’t do all of the activities she mentioned above? Order your own food, she goes off to one room to watch Real Housewives, he watches UFC, she hops in the bath while he checks out some softcore porn on Cinemax, and then they get together for a little hump hump before bed. He’ll be rarin’ to go after a little Shannon Tweed, and she’ll be like Outkast – so fresh and so clean clean! Creative thinking here, people! It’s 2009, we have the means to please almost everyone almost all the time. But nope, bitch hates compromise.
4) Civility during PMS. I am a big proponent of the Red Tent theory. I really believe that from the time when PMS strikes to the time when I am done bleeding, I should only be in the presence of women who are in the same boat hormonally. Attempting to have any civil communication with a member of the male species is nearly impossible.
If you want men to stop making jokes about women on their periods; stop writing things like this. Stuff like this makes the jokes too easy, and too warranted.
Men are such easy targets for all of our premenstrual irritation. And let’s be honest, a man really doesn’t stand a chance when pitted against a woman with PMS. The most humane option is complete separation during this time. OK…we can meet up for sex, shopping, and salty food, but that is it!
Actually, after reading the next paragraph, nevermind. Sex, shopping and salty food. Shopping ain’t really my thing, but 2 out of 3 ain’t bad.
5) Conversations before I have had my coffee.
Jesus, here we go.
My husband is not a coffee drinker, so he doesn’t understand my love affair with the ubiquitous warm beverage that keeps me functional. Often times, as I am sitting at my kitchen table and waiting for my coffee to brew in the morning, my husband approaches me to “talk.” These talks are usually about stressful and complicated issues that I am in no way prepared to engage in without being properly caffeinated.
This sounds completely made up. Me thinks Jennifer had only 4 items to complain about and fabricated some nonsense about her husband wanting to “talk” in the morning when really, he just doesn’t like coffee and she can’t handle that. And by the way, all this “I can’t function without my coffee” bullshit annoys this piss out of those of us who don’t drink it. a) Fuck you; and b) Yes you can.
This morning, as I was waiting for my fix, he attempted to engage me in a discussion about a work crisis, his grueling travel schedule (which will have him out of the country for most of the summer), and his stepfather’s deteriorating medical condition. Yes, these are all important conversations to have. But not at 6 AM before I have had my coffee!
I would bet an entire month’s salary this conversation never happened like it’s portrayed above. Do you know any man that would do this in the morning? Do you know any man that covers this much ground in any single conversation all at once? Have you ever even talked to a man for more than 4 sentences at a time before 7:30 am in your entire life? Has any man in your life volunteered this much information uninitiated ever before in the history of time? This entire paragraph is… what am I looking for? That word with the mozzarella sticks and all the goofy shit on the walls… That’s right – fucking shenanigans.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the institution of marriage, I just don’t love all aspects of cohabitation. But make no mistake, I am happily married and understand that sharing a bathroom and a bed with my man is part of the deal.
Can we get a ruling from your husband about the “happily” part of that statement? Because you sound like one of the most singularly disagreeable people we’ve ever covered in the Love Lounge.
But I guarantee that I will be cursing him up and down when I get out of the shower and I am naked and dripping wet with no clean towel in sight!
Simple solution, Jennifer: Run and jump on him stark naked and dripping wet. One of two things will happen: You’ll either have wild monkey sex on the spot or he’ll be dressed for work and get totally pissed at you for acting like a childish weirdo. Then you say, “Well, don’t forget to hang up clean towels, dick.” And he’ll never do it again. Either way, WIN!
Want more? Read the husband’s response: 5 Things My Husband Hates About Marriage
And we’ll cover this poor bastard’s response to this column next week.
20 Aug 2009 E Dagger