5 Simple Tips to Becoming a Relationship Prize Fighter
If you've been in a relationship for any period of time you know that fighting is merely one component of many. It's a fact of life. I don't like admitting I'm wrong and let me tell you, it happens a lot! However, in a fight I generally don't like to confess to being wrong. I don't! Over the last couple of years I've talked to my male contemporaries and pumped them for their advice; and they all seem to say the same thing: “Just concede, man. You're gonna lose!” What kind of nut-slapping, Strawberry Shortcake-lovin', Vagina Monologue-watching advice IS THAT!!? Sure, sure simply conceding before violence-induced bleeding seems to be the smart play. However, I've learned a thing or two being in relationships over the years; relationship-kung-fu if you will. That said, guys, let me share my relationship kung-fu with you:
- Call em a fatty… errr not, Insecurity is your friend? – It used to be that womens' self-esteem could be easily shattered by calling attention to their pudge or something like that. However, over the years women have become more confident and empowered, which has really made things tough on us men who are fighting the “good fight.” Simply calling your lover a “fatty” isn't going to cut it. Instead, tell them that you're concerned about that bald spot developing on their head; mention that you suspect they have halitosis; suggest they start watching intervention because you're “concerned” about them. The point here is to put them on the ropes before hand. You're setting a precident for the rest of the relationship. Keep in mind, though, women are actually better at this then we men are. All it takes is for you to say your woman's ass is looking “frumpy” before she starts shaking it around at the bar, with some guy putting his hands all over it and the two of them go to the no-tell motel to test out said “frumpiness.” Don't be that asshole, kids. Just don't.
- The Five Year Rule – I received some sage advice recently, at a party, from a drunken turd of a man. He looked at me and my girlfriend and rushed up to me, reeking of Miller Highlife, Doritos and Failure, he says: “My good man! Goddammit! Are you living with that pretty lady over there!!?” I didn't know how to respond to this oddly framed question, so Elmer Fudd 3D offered up “Son, as a fellow man and a guy, if you live with her, it takes five years. Just five fucking years,” Fudd exclaimed, “five years you take as much shit as a woman will heap on ya. You won't like it, she'll bleed her heart all over ya, smack you around a bit and give you honey-do lists as long as a porn star's scrotum; but you gotta do it, you gotta last!!!” I was confused by this drunk and obviously defeated man and before I could talk he said, “The fucking five year rule, brother!! They don't teach that shit in school, my man. For five years you put up with her bullshit but then, something magical happens. After five years, why, you can tell your woman to fuck off, or suck off a donkey!!! It's the good lord's honest truth, brother!” So, after five years, I asked, I can tell my woman to fuck off? “Didn't I just say that, you asshole,” laughed the drunk man. “Fucking five years, man, it's the cunt punt they never told us about in school.” Five years, guys, five years.
- Misdirection is your friend – I fail a lot in life. It just happens. So when I fight, I lose. Badly. A good friend of mine, Ricardo, has a great tactic for this. When the dude is in trouble he changes the subject and somehow that subject has the other person at fault. Let me explain: Once upon a time Ricardo told me he had a cousin, Cindi. Cindi was a nice girl and she was Ricardo's blood, thus, she was like family to me, too. That story stood for years, I never had reason to believe otherwise. One night, I take Ricardo's brother Saul, Cindi and her sister out for a drink at a bar. Saul comes up to me and says: “Hey bro, Cindi's sister is pretty hot, man. What do you think?” I have a confused look on his face, as I'm not accustomed to seeing a relative describe another relative as being “hot.” I replied “I don't think she's my type, man.” Saul, also confused, says, “No, you idiot! I mean for ME!! You think I can score with her??” I can only imagine the contorted look on my face (which is my default expression) as I'm seeing what appears to be incest was on the menu. Long story short, Cindi and her sister are not related to Ricardo or Saul. Armed with this info, I spent almost an hour arguing with Ricardo about why he lied about his cousin only to come out on the other end feeling like shit because I forgot about his birthday the year before. Huh? Yeah, misdirection, the secret tool in your aresenal, kids.
- Feel like makin' love – There was an expression that went around some decades ago “Make love, not war.” A simple concept that as simple as it is brilliant. I'm not going to tell you that sexing it up with your woman will calm her down, in fact she'll probably just kick you in the pecker for even thinking you can “sex” your way out of a fight. But dammit, it's worth the effort. At the very least, you get to excercise that soft mind and hard rod of yours… Maybe.
- The Support Group – There is strength in numbers, people. That's a fact. The shittiest and also most glorious moments in our history can be traced back to actions committed by large groups of people. What about when Joey Chestnut, won his fifth hot dog eating contest? What about the “men” who engage in testicle kicking contests?
When push comes to shove, rally your brothers in arms. You see, if you did something wrong and your surrounded by your “bros” they absorb some of the blame, too! Like a freaking boss, people! The lesson here? Always have a possee on hand, you're only as strong as you weakest link, people. The more you know!
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