My view on this is a little left field.
I was with evil-ex for a LONNGGGG time. I would have gotten less time for murder, without accounting for parole. She looked at me as a rennovation project, wanting to make improvements. This puzzled me for years, as anyone who has met me can see that I'm clearly perfect the way I am. Anyhow, it got to the point where I was getting told what I could do, what I could think, what I could say.
As guys, we are biologically and socially programmed to protect and serve, and we hand our power over gradually, until that fateful day where we realise that we've handed both of 'em over in the bag they came in.
So, fast forward through the split and resultant poverty (for me, not for her, how does that work?), now I'm happy with my equal. She's perfect, she tells me to fuck off and ride when I'm getting uptight, and she books trackdays for me.
So, if you're reading this, pretending you're surfing the NZHerald.co.nz, and you're looking at your Mrs as she huffs and puffs her way through Shortland Street - dump the bitch and run screaming - it is your life that you will save...
It’s diametrically opposed to the sanitised existence of the Lemmings around me in the Dilbert Cartoon hell I live in; it’s life at full volume, perfect colour with high resolution and 10,000 watts of amplification.
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