Boy, you guys just let me have it, don’t like the old jokes, hey I made the font of this blog bigger so you could read it easier, there I made my contribution to aging America.
The point is my wife is out screwing someone. An you know what. I don’t like it, old, young, hot or not. Tiger Cub is trying to explain to me how I’m being irrational. SSK (super sexy kitten) at dinner in Cleveland Park last night trying to give me the feminine view of my wife’s needs. Yes – I can do math in my head, the logic hasn’t failed me.
But I’m an alpha-male and a member of my pack is not following pack rules and I don’t like it. So I snarl and growl, not just at her, but everyone and everything becomes fair game. When you join my pack, you join for life, there is no letter of resignation you submit, you’re part of the pack until death.
This morning after a delightful breakfast of my favourite, chocolate chip pancakes and Tim Horton coffee, my wife asked if were OK to go off for a weekend with her greying hound. That’s more like it. Permission granted.
So many of my friends think they’re Alpha-dogs, when in fact their wives/girlfriends are fully in control. I watch them sneaking about, little white lies, hiding money for their slush fund, laying low, “yes dear”. If it works for them, fine, won’t work for me. I ride on the bow of my ship.
But being the Alpha-male is lonely. Everyone leans on you. Who do I lean on?
I running on virtually zero sleep, all kinds of thoughts racing, stakeholders I have to think about. But deep down, all I really want is someone to hug me, pat me on the head and tell me it’s all gonna be OK. And then it will be.
PS If you guys are good, I’ll put some cute boy up for you tomorrow, but only if you’re good.