Although we’re technically Blogging for Bitter Women, this one is for the guys.

Quick Tip #3: There is NO Bank

Women might indicate otherwise, for motives I wouldn’t care to speculate on, but when it comes to earning “points” with the woman in your life, there is no bank.  The credit you earn now is the credit you have.   You can’t point back to a good thing you did a week ago and say “But hey I did the dishes without being asked last week.”  It don’t work that way.

Now some might consider this cruel, but it’s not… it’s just simply the way it is, and the sooner you understand the truth of the Chick Point System, the sooner you will be able to achieve the happy status of understanding you so desire.

Let me give you an example:

1. Monday:  Buy flowers for her.  + 10 points
2. Tuesday: Do dishes without being asked +5 points (Assuming this is a point of contention or something you don’t normally do.) Note: This gets fewer points than flowers because you dont’ have to leave the house or spend money to do it.
3. Wednesday: Give her fantastic, thoughful, multi-orgasmic sex. +10 points. (Although you don’t have to leave the house or spend money for this one… hey.. it’s good orgasms.  Shut up.)
4. Thursday: Remember to put gas/diesel in the car on the way home, knowing that she’s going to be using the car first thing in the morning and won’t want to have to stop.  +15 points.

Now.. the quiz… On Friday morning, how many points does he have?

The novice would look at that and say, “Easy… 40 points!”  Oh, you poor, dear soul.  

The correct answer: 0 points.

Don’t cry to me about it.  You should thank me for explaining this.  You got credits for what you did on Monday-Thursday, no doubt, but just remember.. there is no bank.

Remember this, and your life will get easier.  Promise.

(My apologies, by the way, for all the contextual Google  “Get Cheap Credit” ads that are undoubtedly going to be appearing for this one!)

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WARNING: If you are a man, a mommyblogger, and/or of delicate nature, you may wish to avert your eyes now. In fact, I’m even going to add a “more” tag to this, because I’d hate to think you got blindsided with details that might upset the balance of your life. I swore I’d never post about ooky things, like diapers and diarrhea, and as far as I’m concered, menstruation falls in the category of things we really don’t need to discuss, however after stumbling across a Mommyblog this weekend, I feel a serious rant burning a hole in my brain, so I’m breaking the rules. By the way, if you want to write me something hateful which I will most definitely ignore, please write to bitterwomen [at] bloggerbingo [dot] com.

DISCLAIMER: I’m sure there are a hecka-lotta intelligent mommybloggers out there. I have met a few, including AnEnglishMum , among others. If you are one and know some others, you could form a “I’m a Mommyblogger But Don’t Have My Head Up My Ass” club. If such a club already exists, please let me know, and I’ll give them a link.

So… click below if you want to read on from here….

(more…)

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Heather at The Wishful Writer tagged us with a meme, and considering how badly I flubbed it last time this happened (I didn’t know what they were ) I’ve decided to do this one!

It involves listing 8 random facts about me.  After all, I know you guys can’t get enough me, right?

1. I make shit up.  All the time.  Like… I’m even making this up.
2. I sleep with a stuffed rabbit ( and a stuffed Scotsman. — and by this I mean he’s full of fraudulent votes.)
3. My son is smarter than I am.  But I’m sneakier than he is.
4. I have this PSP game that tests your brain age, and mine apparantly is 24, 13 years younger than my real age.  They say that younger is better, meaning you’re spry or some shit, but the side effect seems to be that I use the word “like” indiscriminately.  (See #1)
5. I don’t understand people who enjoy reality shows.  (But I wish I enjoyed reality shows, because I always feel like I’m missing something because of how enraptured other people get with them.)
6. I am a bad speller.  But I own a dictionary, so I can hide the shameful fact from the world.
7. I’ve been shocked and amazed by how many truly brilliant women there are out there blogging every day.  Before this, my experience of the internet was mostly of YouTube teens and netspeak nonsense.  Plus a bunch of crazy internet people that seem to find me wherever I land on the net.  Either that or there are millions of them.
8. I’m not really very bitter.  I just have a hard candy shell.

I’m supposed to tag other people, but for some reason hesitate to do so.  But I’d love to see what other people have to say about themselves, so please please if you’re a BFBW reader and you want to do this, please consider yourself tagged!

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I can’t stand it when people pretend to be nice when they’re not. You can spot these people easily on the Internet because they soften caustic phrases with things like:

• j/k (a lazy assed way of saying “I’m just kidding.”)
• Don’t take this the wrong way but….
• I mean that in the nicest way.

Fuck that. Just kidding? No you weren’t. “I’d love to fuck your sister. j/k” See. Deep down you don’t believe it either. Just kidding my ass.

Don’t take this the wrong way? Translation: “I mean it in the ‘wrong’ way, but I don’t want you to punch me in the face for it.”

Ditto for ‘I mean that in the nicest way’.

My dear, Bitter Readers, if you’re going to say something, at least own up to the fact that you mean it. You might get punched in the face for it, but if that’s a problem for you, maybe you should take more care what you say.

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Recently I’ve been dealing with a woman that’s an absolute control freak, and sadly, she spends a great deal of her energy trying to change the behaviour of everyone around her.

I’m reminded of the Serenity Prayer :

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

I wouldn’t have thought drunks would like platitudes , but that just shows you how much I know.

The point I’m rather badly trying to make here is that we always have choices.

Here are some prime examples of making life choices when it comes to things we can and we cannot control:

Scenario #1:

• We cannot control whether our partner spends all night on some moronic “quest”, ever does the dishes, picks up his/her socks, shares the remote, brings us chocolate without being asked, is appropriately worshipful, or ever has a hope in hell of understanding us.
• We can control the frequency, variation, and duration of the LOOK we give them.

Scenario #2:

• We cannot control whether our current bed partner is any good in the sack.
• We can control how much we decide to go ahead tart it up and screw their brains out, just to fuck with them, knowing full well that we might as well enjoy ourselves, and to practice being slutty for our next partner, with whom we will undoubtedly enjoy it more and to give the current partner something to really regret losing when we dump their ass.

Scenario #3:

• We cannot control: the fact that forensic technology is getting so much better these days.
• We can control: Whether or not we have rubber gloves in our bathroom (for touching up those natural highlights [read:grey hairs]), bleach under the sink (for keeping those whites white), a shovel in the shed (for garden days) and lye in the garage (for making soap).

Remember… control what you can.  We can never control other people’s behaviour, but we can make them fucking regret it.

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