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Another freaking Thursday morning meeting where obnoxious blowhards like to hear themselves speak while absolutely nothing is accomplished.
Freaking lovers special. What does that entail? Petting each other with a purple rabbit’s foot for luck while staring deeply into each other’s eyes?
the mecca of all glossy print, Better Homes and Gardens.
news flash, Chad, you don’t know how to properly use a comma, you nitwit, so cut the investigative report on my love life.
“That’s not a way to fit in, Scottie. Ask her where her blouse is from. Don’t put a nonexistent ring on your finger.”
am I going to be the deranged one who can’t make it work with their husband?” Denise scratches her ear. “No, you’re going to be the deranged one who shows up with a blow-up doll dressed in a suit, because you have no husband.”
“Nooooo,” I drag out. “I mean, good for you, happy you’re making a healthy routine with your mental health, but noooooo.”
“Not much of a clothes guy. Don’t bother spending my money on something that in the grand scheme of things doesn’t matter.” “Some might argue that appearance matters.” “Others might argue that you should never judge a book by its cover,” I counter with a smirk.
I know the difference between Coke, Diet Coke, Coke Zero, and the pure shit that is Pepsi.”
he’s giving Adam Sandler impersonator taking a walk on the streets of New York City.
did my marriage counselor just say “taint” and allude to it shriveling up? What the hell kind of professional setting is this?
“Would you say you’re adventurous in bed?” That would be a no. “Very,” Wilder answers. “We’ve done it all. Name the position, check. Name the angle, done it. Name the body part, licked it.” Dear God in heaven.
“You spend hours at the gym, and your muscles aren’t ever bigger.”
“That went well? You think that went well?” “Yeah, he said he thinks our marriage still has potential.” “You idiot!” she shouts, clenching her fists at her sides. “I don’t want our marriage to have potential. I wanted it to die dead on the floor of that office. I wanted us hemorrhaging up there. I wanted there to be no ability to resuscitate.”
He heard the word ‘camp’ and you were instantly fucked.”
“Why am I like this?” “Because you are,” Mika says. “But I love you anyway.”
“Because that’s the kind of guy he is. He’s the most humble rich fuck you will ever meet.”
“I wasn’t looking for your approval.” “How dare I even hand it out then. Shame on me.”
I did drive over a trash can once. It was small, but I felt cool doing it.”
you’re not just a robot in a pair of jeans and a beanie. There’s a heart in there.” “Yeah, there’s a heart,” I say. “Beating and everything.” “Fascinating. What’s that like?” “Thrilling,” I answer.
“We had a plan, you veered away from the plan, and then we were stuck with me zipping your dick in a sleeping bag.”
A pay phone? Did we just road-trip back to the nineties?
“Wife, you’re so good at this. I can’t wait to see how you eat up all these men, just like you swallowed all those men in college.”
“Something we tend to forget when married, that we’re tied together in all aspects. What one partner might do affects the other. Whether good or bad. One move tugs on the other and vice versa. That’s why when we’re making our way through life, we need to be aware that our every move is tied to our loved one. We need to be conscious of that.”
“It’s a sex dungeon.” “I think dungeon is a strong word, because there’s a window with curtains. Maybe consider…sex palace. The comforter has palace-like qualities.”
I follow her line of sight, straight to the steam shower, where a large dildo is stuck to the wall. “Dear God,” I whisper. “Whatever you do, don’t drop the soap, Scottie. For the love of God, don’t drop the soap.”
“Listen, I gave you an amazing gift. Without me, you might never have experienced your first-ever black eye. And now that I’m saying that out loud, it doesn’t sound great.”
“Hey, stop that. No laughing. You need to look irritated around me.” “Then don’t make me laugh.” “Don’t say dumb things, like ‘twinning.’” “That’s not dumb,” he replies. “That’s stating the facts.”
“Babe, just tell me. Is it my tongue? Is that what the problem is? Because I can get it pierced again.” Her expression morphs into interest. “You had your tongue pierced?” “Yeah, for a while, but when I was trying to sell off Soda Tracker, my advisors thought it would be best if I got rid of it.”
“Do you have any other piercings?” “Does it look like I have any others?” I ask. She looks around my ears and then shakes her head. “No, I guess not.” Wiggling my eyebrows, I say, “Didn’t look hard enough, Pips.”
The consensus I hear about a troubled marriage is that it ends in divorce. There isn’t enough light shed on couples actually working through their troubles and rifts.
Consequence, huh? Wonder what that could be. Maybe a spanking from our spouse? If that’s the case, catch me being naughty on day one.
“The look of utter satisfaction on her face as I rummaged and rummaged and rummaged, looking for the lid. Sitting there, on her high perch, looking down at me as if I was her Tupperware peasant, and the entire time, she knew there was no matching lid. Fucking knew the whole time.”
“I asked you to help me,” Wilder counters. “Since you’re so good at spitting, I thought I would get help from a professional…” “Is that a jab at me?”
Her head tilts to the side as she studies me. “What?” I ask after a few seconds. “Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Uh, no, you’re not going to get away with that. What were you just thinking?”
“Do you think it’s going to be another condom basket?” “No idea,” he says. “But whatever it is, we need it. We can’t let these douche canoes have access to lube and cock rings or, better yet, Nerds Clusters.”
Chad.” Wilder turns toward him. “Here’s a picture of a nipple. You seem to want to rev up your sex life. Maybe treat it as a genie lamp, rub it, and ask for your sex dreams to come true.” He tosses the picture at Chad.
Although you have a nice ass, my legs have come to the realization that they don’t want to support ungrateful women.”
“I fucking hate side-eye. Just look at me with regular eyes.”
“None of it made sense, yet look. It’s standing.”
let this be the standard,” he says. “You should accept nothing less from here on out from the people you surround yourself with.”
“I can take it off under my shirt.” “Oh, you hold the power of the ‘bra under the shirt removal’ magic trick.”
He lifts up and pushes me to my back. Even in the dark, I can see the crinkle in his brow. “We’ve talked about this. I don’t say shit just to say it. When I say you’re beautiful, I fucking mean it. Got it, Scottie?”
for a girl who has a hard time taking a compliment even though she wants them…I
“Are you comfortable?” She rests her hands on my chest, her fingers splaying across my pecs. “Yeah. Are you? I’m not hurting you, am I?” Mentally, this is straining; physically, it’s so fucking comfortable.
“Don’t start a fight. And don’t start thinking things in that head of yours. I was being respectful.”
“I’m trying to be a goddamn gentleman, but apparently”—I kiss the other corner of her mouth—“you don’t want that.”
he says such nice things about me, and he really likes my legs and my boobs, but he doesn’t say boobs, he says tits, and that is so much hotter.”
“Would you prefer to be loud when having sex or quiet, as if you’re pretending that no one can hear you?” “Loud,” he answers and then drinks. “I want everyone around me knowing that I’m fucking my girl, that she’s having a good time…and that she’s coming on my cock, because that’s how my girls come.”
“Kiss me, Scottie. Without people watching, without the pressure of the camp, just…kiss me.” “Why would I do that?” I move in closer, pressing my hand to her hip. “Because you want to. Because you need to. Because the kiss we shared back there wasn’t just for pretend.”
