Danonymous Dan: Parenthoodwinked

It’s been a few weeks since the Webb story broke now. Potted history for those of you who missed the woeful tale is as follows: Webb’s wife revealed in an argument the daughter he’d raised until she was 17 wasn’t actually his. After a paternity test confirmed it, Webb wigged out, cut the daughter out of his life and started legal action against the mother and her lover seeking damages for paternity fraud. I first clocked this when watching the ‘Wright Stuff’, a programme that is at least more interesting than other daytime offerings such as Cash in the Attic. (What is so great about watching stupid people rooting around their council flats desperately trying to find some shit to sell at auction so that Chesny can have his first sovereign ring?)

A panel of ‘experts’ including Anne ‘gastric band’ Diamond, Janet Street ‘face-like-a-railway’ Porter and some sanctimonious horse faced doctor called David, debated the case. They all thought Webb was despicable for disowning the girl and then dragging her into a long and arduous court case. But really how else could somebody react? JSP even went as far as to suggest that the woman’s actions were okay and quite justified especially if the lover didn’t want to raise the child. I think the point here is simply about choice, by making the decision to lie Webb’s wife stole Webb’s ability to make a choice at the beginning. Instead, 17 years of a man’s life are found to be a complete lie. Should he just sit there and take it?

Primarily this is a story about consequences and facing up to them. Whilst it doesn’t detract from this specific case I will say that when it comes to owning up to paternal responsibility men can be pretty shit.  But that is another blog piece.

Let’s look at what else has been potentially taken from Webb. Breeding is a strong biological imperative for most guys and he now finds himself in the position of not being a biological father, so unless he manages to have kids again age 47 (more likely 57 by the time he’s able to trust somebody again) then his genes end with him. Seventeen years of financially supporting a ‘loving’ wife and daughter, all the memories, the good times, are all based on a fiction that was deliberately engineered. If it was a mistake on her part, if she’d owned up to the cheating and then honestly believed the child was Webb’s, that would change things. But his wife knew and actively created the deception. I do not agree with the disowning of the daughter in the slightest – but it’s very easy for me to say that, as it isn’t happening to me.

The occurrence appears to be rather more prevalent than people might think. The statistic used on the ‘Wright Stuff’ suggested that one-in-ten children are in the same boat (including prince Harry?). To put that into context according to our beleaguered government’s office of national stats we have 12.2m children in the country, meaning that somebody else is raising 1,220,000 children.  That does seem very high and there is no way of knowing how many of those are actually cuckoo children as I assume this number would include adoptions and men who have married women with children.

Girls, I’m curious – if you found yourself in this situation what would you do? The women I’ve asked about it seem to think that while lying was regrettable if they found themselves pregnant by another man while in a relationship they might do the same thing with the main driver being survival and, not wanting to lose the security of a marriage with a baby on the way. Survival is an interesting point because I’d say that Webb’s actions fall loosely under the same umbrella. When faced with a crisis we often drop into fight or flight mode (the 3^rd option people forget is ‘freeze’ roll over and get a good kicking) and act oddly as a result. If I was faced with this situation, I’m pretty sure I’d flee first and then fight second and justifiably I’d be very angry. And Guys, what about you? Fight, freeze or flight?

Sam: Where do you get your rush?

Long term relationships – they can be tricky things. Security it all very well, but where do you get your excitement from when you are in for the long haul? Let’s face it, when you have been working hard all day, when the credit crunch is on and you are worried about your job, it’s hard enough to just keep a relationship ticking over, let alone keep it exciting.

The thing about first falling in love is that it is exciting. It is full of adrenalin, ups, downs, and you body and brain get pumped full of the love drug, PEA which makes your tummy flip, your palms sweat and gives you those lovely rose coloured glasses that only let you see the good part of your other half. Taling about excitement, interestingly, Psychology Today is calling 2009 the year of living dangerously. Apparently when women are exposed to higher stress levels they are more likely to engage in casual sex and risk taking. 2009 is apparently going to be the year of the affair.

This comes back to my original point – where do you get your excitement in a relationship? The fact is, that after a certain amount of time it just becomes really comfortable. You chat about your day, what your friends have been up to and sit and watch a DVD together and maybe get a bit of excitement by trying a new type of wine. Not exactly sizzling stuff. At this point, oxytocin, the snuggle drug has kicked in – the one that makes you feel warm, comfortable, secure and want to feather your nest. The trouble is that certain type of people, I think actually most people need some sort of excitement as well as security. They long for that rush, that adrenalin, that kick that makes you feel alive. I think the most obvious option for most people becomes and affair – it is exciting, gives the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the catch and kill, the rush of skulduggery.

But what people are forgetting is what they are really looking for is the rush. I’ve certainly had to confront this in my own relationship – I’m snug as a bug, in a rug. But started to notice, well, for all that snugness, well it was . . . a bit boring. Instead of bowing to the temptation of an affair (and embarrassingly there are no shortage of offers), I’ve realised it’s the rush I need. Instead I get it rock climbing every week – nothing like your body thinking it’s going to die to get the adrenalin going. I get it in the gym almost every day – pushing myself so hard that the endorphins go mad to try take away the pain. I get it going out and having a boogey.

The thing is that all this takes planning, planning how you are going to get your rush. You’ve got to work at it and schedule it in. You’ve got work at find enough climbing partners, you’ve got work at pushing through the pain at the gym, you’ve got to work at convincing your 30 something friends that it really is worth going out dancing. To be frank it’s bloody hard work. No wonder so many people take the easy option – websites for married men and women wanting affairs are booming this year. So what about you, where do you get your rush? How do you deal with the security/excitement conundrum?

Something for the ladies # 27

Ladies: If there's ever been anything about men you've wanted to know but were afraid to ask, or wanted a male viewpoint on a certain relationship niggle you're going through, drop an email to us at todger dot talk @ googlemail dot com. We shall pick one out and answer it to the best of our capabilities.

This week's question...

SC writes: I've been with a chap for a couple of years and it's always felt a bit unequal in terms of effort and affection invested. A few months ago, after a particular exchange, I said I couldn't continue as it was too painful to care so much and receive such a poor level of return. After a couple of weeks, however, I swallowed my frustration and proposed trying to work things out.

While we were apart his ex-girlfriend got in touch out of the blue and they went for a drink. I was initially wholly unbothered – I'm not particularly jealous; I've always snared girls for group sex antics with those I've dated and never previously had a problem with exes etc. It transpires that she's keen on restarting things, though, and that they had 'a bit of a kiss'. As we were kind of split up at the time I was prepared to accept and move on, but I later accidentally see the start of a message saying something like 'I love having your cock in my mouth, God I missed you - thank you for my night of violation..'. I understandably want to check what the fuck's going on, so ask if he's considering reviving anything with her.

He unconvincingly dismisses what I saw as fantasy on her part, and replies: 'well, not at the moment, no'. So suddenly I'm bothered. This is surely an outrageous response - you don't leave open the possibility of resurrecting things with your ex if you're supposedly serious about who you're currently with, right? Rather than at least admitting it's objectionable he angrily calls my concern 'pathetically neurotic' and 'quite some feat of paranoia', which is actually the most galling part – I'm calmly rational and just want to know where I stand. If nothing happened he should go out of his way to categorically explain and reassure, however tedious, and if it did he should have the balls to be upfront. Amidst this uncertainty I'm supposed to be totally at ease with them hanging out. I would like to be, I just think it's an unreasonable expectation given the absence of clarity. The couple of friends I've run his line past have looked at me with confused pity for still being around, but I'm interested in an impartial opinion from you guys.

‘Mr Sex’ says: Fucking hell.

Alright, first things first; yes, he’s being a bell-end. Taking a reasonable accusation (“You’re carrying on with your ex”) and throwing it back in someone’s face (“You’re being paranoid”) is the mark of a twat and a Jeremy Kyle guest. Of course you’re going to be bothered about an ex appearing from nowhere, even if it didn’t involve text-filth, and if he can’t see that, he’s being a tosser. Taking into consideration your assertion that you’re giving a lot out and getting next to fuck-all in return, the only possible course of action is to realise things aren’t going to get any better, and get shot of him as soon as humanly possible.

What I want to address, however, is this nipping out and getting other women in for threesomes business, because – unless you’re careful as fuck, know what you’re on with, and have the right partner of similar temperament – it’s a recipe for disaster every time. Christ on a crisp packet, it’s hard enough to trust someone in a standard relationship these days – bringing other people into the mix requires monumental levels of trust, and intense boundary-drawing of Berlin-after-the-war-proportions. Otherwise, you’ll be onto a wrong ‘un from Day One: you might be thinking “Hey, I’m really open and understanding to my partner’s needs”, but the wrong partner will interpret that as “Wahey! My girlfriend doesn’t care who I give a portion to! Skill! Where the slags at?” (By the way, did you ever suggest that it might be a good idea if you could bring another man into the equation, and was he cool with that? Thought not.)

Of course, that’s not saying that an open relationship of the type you’re hankering after is impossible (and I’m hoping that one or two of our readers who dabble in that field might be able to put you straight here) – it just needs more work than the standard type. I suggest you move on, learn, and go after what you want with someone worthy of your openness.

Sam says: In this sort of situation, it’s all about watching what he's doing, and ignoring what he's saying.

1) While you're attempting to patch things up, he is getting together with an ex and clearly getting his end away.

2) He takes, takes, takes takes in the relationship and doesn’t give you what you want back – he’s a blood-sucking relationship vampire

3) He clearly doesn’t have much invested in the relationship, because he’s already warming up his Plan B.

He’s a lost cause. Forget it. Move on. The only question you should be really asking yourself is; why are you still with such a tosser? Why are you putting up with getting so much less than you give?

The problem is athough you don’t want to admit it, you’ve invested a lot in this guy. You’ve spent a couple of years in your life hoping that things will get better. They haven’t, but it takes guts to chuck away that investment. It’s a bit like having put a whole lot of money into your savings account, and then the bank is shafting you like crazy by not letting you take your money out and giving you an absolutely shitty interest rate. The smart thing is to cut your losses, get out and start up with a new bank that will actually treat you properly. The problem is when they suggest that things might get better, there is a little bit of you that wants to believe them, a little bit that hopes you really are going to get your hands on all that hard-earned cash again.

Try this little trick; every time you think about staying with him, pause, have a bit of a stretch (to shift you into neutral) and then think about the five worst, most horrible, awful things that he has done to you. Really remember them in detail, how they felt, looked, sounded, maybe even smelt. Really remember how horrible and shitty he made you feel. Then ask yourself; ‘Should I stay with him?’. Your brain is smart, and moves away from pain – I can pretty much guarantee the answer will be ‘Get the hell out, right now!’. Repeat as necessary every time you waver.

Also, if you are into the whole swinging thing, go out, get on some websites and have some fun with some other couples. As a woman you are in the position of power and get to pick and choose who you fancy most. That way you get to be the centre of attention, have people chase you, and get reminded that you are sexy and attractive and that there are people out there who are willing to give rather than just take. Hopefully it will give you some extra powder in your keg to blow this idiot off.

Readers of TT: Comment!

Danonymous Dan: Boffing the Nanny

Ok so some of you appear to want to know how my girlfriend and I met and how, against Atlantic-sized odds, we’ve managed three years. Well here’s the story of our meeting. At the time I was dating a girl in London, but things had been dying for a while, so when the possibility of a month away seeing my brothers, having weddings and going scuba diving came up I was all over it like tits on a top-shelf. My trip ended up in California visiting with my 3^rd brother and as it drew to a close, I was in no rush to head back, I extended my trip by a week. It was during this extended week that I met my current girlfriend…

I’ll just take a moment to explain my mind-set at the time. From a relationship perspective the trip was the perfect way to put a bit of physical distance between myself and my ex.  We were both bored of each other but neither had the inclination to end things. ‘Bad me’ had fully been intending to try and get his end away during the trip mainly for fun, but also make it morally impossible to stay in that relationship – screw ‘good me’ into a moral corner, if you will. Various things – including the knowledge that it was wrong to do so – conspired to thwart my attempts. I mean, if you’re staying in a hostel in the Cook Islands and you don’t manage to get your wick wet then your heart just isn’t in it.

The week extension meant my brother’s time off had ended and he was back at work, so he enlisted the help of the girl who used to Nanny for his children. The actual flow of events during our first meeting is totally jumbled for me, as I fancied her the moment I saw her. I’m not going to be as floptarded as to say ‘love at first sight’, but it was certainly ‘fuck me at first sight’. She’d just come from the gym and was wearing LuLu lemon workout trousers that looked like they’d been sprayed on in a latex factory. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her arse – which made conversation tricky as I had to stand behind her. However, I really don’t believe in love at first sight, but my nephew could have been licking the plug socket at the time and I’d not have noticed. She sounded confident, looked it and was pretty and seemed nice – I was smitten.

I still remember the thrill of talking to her for the fist time, doing my level best not to sound a twat, and pull off an air that suggested I was both sweet, but also Bond-like and able to kill a man with my sheer masculinity. I failed. She loves to tell people I was wearing ‘rafting sandals’ and looked a spod. In my defence, they were a pair of very comfortable and extremely practical Teva walking sandals, that I am sure bond would wear on is days off. At the time she was living with her long-term boyfriend of six years. He was a rather, er, limited individual who had a penchant for road rage and jealousy – one of those ‘fighty’ sorts. Not blowing my own trumpet (if only, eh?) but that wasn’t a hard act to follow and she and I spent two days seeing sites and enjoying each other’s company. I was enjoying myself so much I extend my trip again. There was, of course, still the nagging problem of my existing girlfriend. But that went away pretty sharply, because following the email announcing the second trip extension she phoned me up and said that she had been going to wait till I got back but decided it was best to do it now – then broke up with me.

I felt fucking great. I may have said thank you.

On day three we had we went to a Mexican restaurant in San Diego Old Town and drank till the small hours. We’d discussed the idea of getting a hotel room already, but under the rather transparent guise of it being too far get a taxi if Michelle got too drunk to drive back. Plus, and this is the important bit, Old Town is next to SeaWorld where my family (who had recently arrived from NZ on their way through back to the UK) were going for a day out as a treat for my two nephews. We got kicked out of the restaurant at about 11.30, said good-bye to her friends found ourselves in exactly the situation we had foreseen. Oh look, a Marriot hotel across the way and both of us with overnight bags… how convenient. We should get one room, right? They all have two queen-sized beds in anyway…

So we checked into the hotel room… then fucked each other’s brains out. Starting around midnight and finishing around 4.30 in the morning.  Yes, I boffed the nanny. The next day, it was a ‘fuck-knackered’ pair who did the walk of shame around SeaWorld. My parents tried to pretend they didn’t know of such things, my brother and his ex wife tried a divide and conquer method to get gossip and my nephews…well they just babbled about dolphins. That day was also the day that my girlfriend dumped her ex and moved out…

Lee: Is it wrong if it's dead?

Many years ago, me and another comedian were both bemoaning the fact that we had both been having a lean spell. He had been having a particularly lean spell – he had three women who had knocked him back in three days, all using the B word. We were doing a gig in Leister Square and crying on each others shoulders. One of our rules was that we would never go out with someone that is in a relationship. That is just not happening.

A couple of weeks later that went out the window. For a single guy, that was an entirely new seam that you didn’t realise was out there. There were loads of women in relationships that are dead, and they are just looking for something else, more so with women. I feel that when women are in relationships, they are looking for something to jump ship to. They need a confidence boost to move on. This happened to me a lot of times, and you think, well this is the role I’m playing, I’m having fun anyway. Occasionally you would find they were looking to jump ship to another relationship, or they just use you as a bridge to jump to another relationship. There was one girl, who was in a really bad long term relationship, it was dead. Rock hard dead. We were having some fun, and then she met another guy and I started to keep my distance, I knew she was looking for a lot more than I was prepared to give. I held her at arms length eventually we drifted apart, she met a guy, she had a child and they are all happy happy. I’m not saying I was responsible for that, but I was involved. Because otherwise she would have been stuck in this other dead, abusive relationship for god knows how long. Because people do that, because people are frightened of being alone. So they won’t leave that relationship until something else is on the table. It gives them the confidence to believe that there is someone else out there.

Is it right or wrong? Well I remember when I was having conversation in a pub when and we were talking about what you would do if you came home and your bird was shagging some other bloke. My mates were saying they would beat him up, do this, do that and it got around to me and I just said ‘I’d just walk away’. All my mates piped up saying ‘but there’s some bloke shagging your girl’. I just said, well it’s over. What’s it going to do? And for him, he didn’t wake up some day and think, ‘I’m going to shag Lee’s Girlfriend’. He’s just met her. Chatted her up, she’s responded. It’s nothing to do with him. It’s all to do with her. What I am going to gain from picking a fight? I should just walk away. I’ve stayed the same since that. When I’ve been the outsider, I haven’t set out to ruin a guys life, it’s already over. If anything its ended it quicker for him than he would have ended it himself. The quicker it’s over, the quicker you move on and maybe find something better.

I don’t feel bad about any of that, because I’ve never set out to hurt anybody. And if someone has shown attraction to me, whether they are in a relationship or not, is irrelevant. We are now attracted to each other and that’s it. Likewise, I wouldn’t cry if it happened to me. If they stray, then the relationship is dead.

You can see Lee Saturday night at the Fym Fyg Bar.

Sam: That other woman

The other night I was at a charity party doling out love life advice to punters and as usual was keeping a keen eye on the antics going in the crowd. One thing that particularly caught my eye was how the most attractive woman in the room kept giving me looks in between dancing with the guy in the Lion suit. Got to keep up the old skills, teachers got to be able to do too, etc etc, I rationalised (translate as, lets go and have a chat with her and get a bit of an ego rub even though I’m taken).

Anyway, I wander over and we start chatting. Now this girl could have had any man in the room. Turns out the Lion, just like me was taken. In fact she has spent the entire night flirting with taken men. A quite attractive single guy was showing some serious interest in her as we chatted. When I asked her, she dismissed him, saying ‘no, he’s way to keen’. She then proceeded to complain about how the only men who ever approach here were they taken ones (that’s because you pick them, flirt like crazy and reel them in like fish honey – I had to bite my tongue on that one).

What is it about these women? Why do they un-erringly pick out men who are taken? I can understand it to some extent, men, and women in relationships are attractive. They are getting regular action, they are usually happy and confident, and most of all, not at all needy. Then there is the biological thing of saving time and searching for a mate by picking one that other’s already find attractive. But the problem is, if you are a plan B, 95% of the time, the man stays with the other woman. Lady readers, can you enlighten me more on this one? Lads, any thoughts?

Sam: Where do you draw the line?

Friends. When you are in a relationship, you’d think that they would be the last one’s that you’d have to keep an eye on. The last one’s that you’d think would do something a bit naughty and inappropriate around your girlfriend. But let’s face it, we’ve all got one. One of your friends who just dances around in that grey area between inappropriate and out right out of order with your woman.

I’ve got one mate like this. At first it’s really hard to put your finger on. For me it started as a strange feeling of discomfort. There was nothing really blatantly out of order and I ignored it because I really like this guy. But then the niggle got stronger and I really started paying attention to his body language, since after all actions speak so much louder than words.

Around my fiancée he was just a bit too attentive. Actually when I watched him, a lot too attentive. His attention would be totally absorbed in her when she talked and he would fix her with intense laser like eye contact. Then I noticed that he was spending a bit too much time inside her intimate zone (inside arms length away) – literally getting just too close for a friend. Then the real corker came when we were all watching a movie at home together. He sat in between me and my fiancée, with me in between him and his girlfriend. So were were seated like this:

His Girlfriend – ME – HIM – My fiancée

And then draped his arm out along the couch behind my fiancée’s shoulder. Basically his body language was way crossing over the line – he was sitting where her partner should sit, draping his arm in a way that only a partner should, and sitting as close as only a partner should.

Now you may think I’m banging the drum a bit here – but when my fiancée and I talked about it the level our how weird this all felt came out. It was a strange kind of feeling of being a bit soiled, like he had done something a kind dirty that we couldn’t put our finger on, and couldn’t really say anything out loud about, but just felt really wrong. And it was made worse by him doing all this right in front of me and his girlfriend, which was frankly just pretty disrespectful. The problem is that you can’t really turn around to someone like this and say – ‘hey mate, your body language is a bit weird, you are crossing the intimate line between friend and boyfriend, so back off buddy’.

After having a good chat about it, my fiancée worked out a plan, we wouldn’t say it, but we would take action that said it. In the last case we both got up to get drinks, then I came back and literally plonked myself down in between him and my fiancée. When he was chatting with her and getting too close I would do the same.

This got the whole thing more under control and made us both feel more comfortable. But how boring, having to constantly fend off a so called friend. Needless to say he doesn’t get as many invites around to ours any more.

What about you, got any line crossing friends? How do you deal with them?

Sam: Whose fault is it?

Affairs. Whose fault is it? The man? The woman? Both? A new book from a States side psychotherapist squarely lays the blame on women. While it’s tempting to quickly howl him down, some of his findings are actually quite interesting. The author interviewed men who had affairs and found that contrary to popular belief, they weren’t running after younger prettier things, or more sex. Actually significantly more men said emotional dissatisfaction was the main reason for them straying.

Its a small sample of men he interviewed – 100 unfaithful and 100 faithful men, but I think it does shed some light on an interesting subject. Certainly my male clients who have been tempted into infidelity said that really it was the lack of emotional satisfaction that drove them away. I really get the sense that the reasons men stray are much more complex than the cliche of wanting to shag the sexy blonde.

There is a real temptation to think that your relationship is like a perpetual motion machine – once you get together and fall in love it will just keep working by itself. What I think is that you have to make sure that you are constantly and attentively feeding the emotional needs of the other person – otherwise they will get hungry and start looking for food somewhere else. But this cuts both ways – men have to be paying just as much attention to meeting the needs of their partners. Love is like food, something that needs to be constantly attended too. Neglect it at your peril.

What would have been really interesting is the female version of this book looking at why women stray, and what men can do to keep them faithful. I think that women stray just as much as men – they are just better at not getting caught.

What have your experiences been with affairs? Was it lack of sex? Or lack of emotional food that drove you in another person’s arms? Or just the thrill and kick of it?

Dave: the attraction of disloyalty

We’re often upset when we discover the woman we’ve just boned chose to have sex with us purely to alleviate the intense emotional void she’d been cultivating since her cat died, or ‘cos she’d accidentally overheard a friend commenting on her natural big-bones.

It’s not so much the pondering of whether it meant anything to her, though it can hit your pride, albeit as a distant after thought once you’ve finished strutting your stuff around town for a week – I got lucky, oh yeah, baby. The frustration lies in the considerable ease in which women are able to accomplish their task; plenty of guys ready and waiting without having to engage them in witty banter – a quick glance and deliberate brush of the hand across his genitals will do it.

Not so easy for us (you can get in quite a bit of trouble brushing a hand across the genitalia of a complete stranger).

Especially when your self-esteem isn’t at its peak. The lower you feel the tougher it is to sustain the necessary act required to secure the pull. This becomes a vicious circle of repeated rejection, further dejection, greater need for companionship and thus less ability to provide the appropriate cheery persona, etc.

Having been out of the ‘game’ for such a long time, confidence (never my strongest attribute, if indeed, it exists within me at all) has been at an all time low. I was sincerely wondering if I’d ever have sex again.

So I decided, following weeks of deflated deliberation, to visit a hooker. And one within my budget – not the best idea – weighing up the socially and emotionally ingrained indignity of the concept of paying for one of the most natural of human pleasures.

Needless to say, the entire process was incredibly unsexy and demeaning (for both of us no doubt). In a nutshell, my mind refused to allow my cock to get on with what it’s designed for – and it had nothing to do with the several drinks I’d consumed for Dutch Courage as my penis never seems to get as pissed as I do.

She forced a condom on to my flaccid member and sat back holding one leg in the air. Thoughts of shame, despondency and self-ridicule whirred around my head at volume until I sorrowfully mumbled an apology, dressed myself and fled, red-faced and £20 out of pocket.

Where is this going? Well, the last girl I was with, assumed, from my appearance, rather than my attitude or anything I’d said, that I was some kind of ‘player’ (I wish). Once we’d screwed a couple of times over the following weeks, it transpired that we got on well, better than well, we became best friends – so a relationship blossomed. A relationship which lasted longer than most marriages I’ve known.

That’s what hurt so much, once I’d dedicated myself to this person (as was my way) she, through personal insecurities and expectations based upon her father’s infidelities, decided I wasn’t cavalier enough (well, I am circumcised).

It wasn’t until I’d deigned to drunkenly visit a whore that her ‘passion’ returned. I neglected to tell her that I failed to perform because of feelings of self-loathing. Had I cheated on her with a non-working girl, I later discovered, it would have set me up in blowjobs for life.

However, she failed to understand that had I been sleeping with anyone else, I wouldn’t have stayed with her (possibly a greater attraction) but more to the point, it wouldn’t have made me more ‘manly’ but less so.

It may sound a little unsympathetic but then again, she left me. Hooked up with some geeky older family man and now lives alone. I guess it says a lot for my judgment. Though, until that disturbing turn around she’d always claimed to abhor such philandering.

Yet another example of that old adage ‘nice guys finish last’, as made homage to by numerous 80s teen flicks.