Man fed up with women swears never to be involved with another one.
Can't live with them and can't live without them? Oh, yeah? Wanna bet? Just watch me.
I'm done with women. Finished. I've had it. After three failed marriages and three divorces women are all alike. A sucker for a pretty face and a hot body, I'm a sucker for love, but not anymore.
Only, now, I'm done with being a sucker and being sucked dry just because I want my cock sucked. Marriages don't work and I'm done trying to make them work. Women are only after one thing, money and men are after somethin' more meaningful, sex. I know.
I vow never to have anythin' to do with another woman again. Seriously, I swear on my mother. Okay, my Mom isn't dead, yet, but if she was, I'd swear on her soul. And if I had a Bible in the house, I'd swear on that, too, but my second wife took even that, when she packed up and left.
Just like Alfalfa on Spanky's Little Rascals, I'm going to create a Women Hater Club. What do you think? Anyone with me? I hate women. They suck.
After my first failed marriage, after my second failed marriage, and after my third failed marriage, much like Al Pacino as Michael Corleone, in Godfather 3, just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in. In my case, just when I thought I was out and living the good life, the life of a carefree bachelor, they trick me into marryin' them by being nice. Yet, once I put that ring on their finger, once they take that vow, then everythin' changes and it's me they try to change first.
Well, not this time. No sir. I'm not fallin' for that no more. I'm done with women. Over and out. Bye, bye. Get lost. Scram. Beat it. Leave. Get out.
I'm done, I tell you. I'd done. There could be a beautiful, buxom blonde who wants to blow me and, okay, after she blows me, I'm done with her.
It all started when Gloria, my third wife wanted me to take her on a cruise. What do I look like I have money? Cruises cost a lot of dough. I need the money that I have for my gamblin'. Hey, cruises are for later when I'm old and retired, not now. For now, I just wanna bet on sports.
Besides, after I agreed to take her on a cruise, once we were out in the middle of the ocean, do you know what this broad said to me? Do you know what she confessed to me? She told me the reason that she needed to take a cruise, are you ready for this shit, was to forget about her boyfriend. Her boyfriend? Yeah, I know.
To forget her boyfriend? That's what she said. Her boyfriend? Is she serious? Are you kiddin' me? What the fuck? When did she get a boyfriend? Where was I? Why is the husband always the last to know that his wife is a cheatin' whore? Hey, I didn't get the memo that my wife had a freakin' boyfriend. Who knew?
She broke up with him, she said after he cheated on her. Well, join the club, sister. I didn't even know she had a boyfriend. She's supposed to be married to me. I actually thought she was faithful to me. I trusted her. It makes me wonder, now, what else did she lie about? Maybe that wasn't an act of God that she said put that dent in the hood of my Caddy. Maybe it was her.
She made me so angry that I couldn't wait to go home and tell my girlfriend what my wife said about having a boyfriend. I couldn't wait to tell my mistress that after breakin' up with him that she wanted me to take her on this stupid cruise, so that she could forget him. Unbelievable. Can you believe her nerve?
What am I am asshole? Do I look like a chump? Does she think of me as a sucker willin' to do anythin' to please her, while she cheats on me? Well, no more. I'm done.
I should have taken my girlfriend on a cruise, instead of my wife. It's not bad enough that my wife, my third wife, at that, has been cheatin' me, but now my girlfriend is mad at me because I took my cheatin' whore of a wife on a cruise instead of her. My girlfriend said that, except for that one little indiscretion she had with those sailors, that she's been faithful to me and I believe her.
Hey, she does her part to support the military, you know. What's so wrong with that? She works in a gentleman's club. Again, I ask you, what's so wrong with that?
Unbelievable. I mean, it's okay for a guy to cheat on his wife but it's not okay for a wife to cheat on her man. That's different. It's not a double standard that I'm writing about here, it's just the way that it is in nature. Right?
You guys know what I mean. You're men of the world. Men are going to be men and women forgive them after we buy them somethin' nice and take them out and show them a good time. That's the way it's always been and will always be. We men have needs.
So there we are in the middle of nowhere, an ocean with whales and icebergs, and she tells me not only did she have a boyfriend but also that she broke up with her boyfriend and now she's a miserable bitch because she misses him. She misses him? Can you believe that? And she tells me all this shit to my face, too. I wanted to slap her. I wanted to give her a head butt.
What the fuck? Why did I bother taking her on a cruise? If I knew she had a boyfriend before, I never would have taken her on a cruise. I would have told her to go fuck herself and to tell her boyfriend to take her on a cruise. She such a friggin' frigid, money grubbing bitch.
I had to get away from her before I picked her up and threw her overboard off the top deck and left her for the fishes to eat. So, I went in my cabin and locked the door. Not ten minutes later, I'm in there takin' a good shit from all the food they give me on this cruise, you know, when she's knockin' at the door. Mama mia, I never shit so much in my life. I filled the bowl.
"Sammy," she says. "I need some money. I want to gamble. Sammy. Open the friggin' door. Sammy!"
It stunk so bad in that small room that I needed to light as many candles as I lit for when they gunned down my friend, Mario. I was embarrassed. There was no way I was letting Stella come inside. It smelled like someone died, that's how bad the stink was.
"Wait a minute," I said stallin' for time. "I'm on the crapper. Give me a minute to wipe my ass."
The friggin' cabin is so small that I probably could have slid the money under the door from the bathroom toilet. Only, I wanted to make sure it was Stella who was outside my cabin door and not some imposter tryin' to get me to give her my money. Hey, I wasn't born yesterday. I'm wise to all the scams they do today because I've done a few myself in the past.
Besides, now that I don't trust Stella no more, how do I know that she wouldn't scam me by sayin' I never gave her any money. She could say that wasn't her behind the door, when I slid the money to her. I needed to have a face to face meetin'. So I did what I had to do and opened the door a crack and handed her five hundred dollars.
"Did you wash your hands?" She says to me, as if I'm an unhygienic animal of somthin'.
"Yeah, I washed my hands. What do I look like a homeless vagrant to you, a hobo? I have more class than that. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a kid. I always wash my hands, especially after I do number two," I said holdin' up two fingers and wantin' to say, especially after I just took a giant shit like I just took. Wow.
No, I wiped my ass with the money I just handed you because I knew I was goin' to give it to you, is what I wanted to say and should have said. Only, I thought of that later, after she left. And as if she'd turn down money that had a little shit on it anyway.
"Good, because I don't want to get sick aboard this boat," she says to me.
"That's all you get the whole cruise," I said handin' her the money. "Make it last."
"Make it last? Sammy, this won't last me an hour."
"Too bad. Make it last," I said.
"And what happens when we land in port and I wanna go shoppin'?"
"Pick one. Either you spend the five bills on gamblin' or on shoppin' or spend half on gamblin' and the other half on shoppin'. It's your call, only make it last."
"C'mon, Sammy, don't be so cheap. If you're nice to me, I'll suck your cock later," she said.
Suck my cock, my ass. I'm not fallin' for that line again, only to hear her excuses why she can't suck my cock later.
