If you happen to be a man who procrastinates, is self-absorbed, is not at all consistent with the doling out of affection, verbal expressions of love, positive complements, gift-giving, card buying, lack any understanding or patience with women and their emotional bullshit, are selfish in bed, ie. forget about things like foreplay, female orgasms or your partner’s pleasure in any conventional sense, are not good at hiding your anger and annoyance, cant tell if your spouse or partner has gotten their hair cut, nails done, lost two lbs or is wearing a brand new (fill-in the blank) or just plain dont cotton to the lovey-dovey stuff that chicks dig including celebrating important events like birthdays, anniversaries, half-birthdays, quarter-anniversaries, the calendar turning to 1111 (wtf is that?) …you may want to download CaptCliff’s “Restore Relationship” app.
The basic premise of the Man Up phone app and it’s algorithm derived “SAVE RELATIONSHIP” default mode is as follows: Most women even if they are crazy in love with you at first are likely to get fed up with your and my respective bullshit because: 1) we are quite often stupid pricks and can be bastards 2) we do say dumb, insensitive and hurtful things… especially when mad or tired and 3) we are hopelessly inferior and not even a fraction as romantic, muscular or well-hung as the Prince Charming/Mr Wonderful dude described in every book, novel, song, movie, fairy tale and age-old hen story told around the tribal bonfire and inside the menstrual hut/communal kitchen by women, their friends, and their female relatives including their mothers, grandmothers and great-grandmothers (who you would think would know better). However, the main reason they dont know any better or accept actual reality is simply because they fucking love their ROMANTIC TARZAN-SUPERMAN MYTHOLOGY. I’m serious. That’s their mental, emotional and sexual super-caffeinated life-affirming Red Bull energy drink. It’s their pablum growing up, their teen-aged recreational drug of choice and Queen Bee royal jelly and mothers milk. They consume this stuff like we eat rashers of bacon at Waffle House. In fact, I suspect their wholly unrealistic love fantasies are expressed directly into large clay jugs right from the ample breasts of the Starbucks barista cum Aphrodite romance deity they worship on a daily basis.
By the way, dont try to tell me your woman has a Ph.D. in Neuroscience and doesn’t think that way. Bullcrap. James Holmes the orange-haired Batman theater mass murderer in Colorado was on his way to getting his Neuroscience doctorate and look how useless that scientific stuff was in keeping him from going totally psycho fruitcake. Even tho the rational part of a woman’s brain may tell them that “fantasy is not reality” and that reality often involves things like man farts, body odor, poor oral hygiene, ball scratching and sniffing and occasional sexist language and derogatory comments…the much larger part of their brain (approximately 90%) tells them Prince Charming (much like Baby Jesus, Sasquatch, trickle down economics and winning the lottery is for many red hat wearing Trump supporters) is still a distinct possibility. In cinematic terms consider this. The movie and the novel “Dr. Zhivago” is seen as an uber sexy snow-covered Russian love story by a large number of women even tho five minutes in an actual Siberian winter would freeze my pecker off and reduce my basal temperature and biochemically related sex drive to sub-zero. Dont ask me why they are so persistent in torturing themselves (and us) with such obviously nonsensical and counterproductive relationship fantasies. I dont know and frankly I’m way too busy pretending on Facebook that Im 20 years younger than I am and fantasizing that there is a Playboy bunny somewhere on the planet who has a unique sexual fetish for a bald semi-retired psychologist with drooping nipples and a FUPA. Dont ask. It just seems statistically possible based on probability theory, quantum physics and the law of averages……
Anyway, I talk too much and often forget to get to my main point. Here’s my point: Let’s face it. We ARE basically selfish dumbasses. That’s not gonna change. However, with this mental reminder/action plan/ phone app you can teach yourself to ACT and BEHAVE like you’re not nearly as big of an ASSHOLE as you really are… at least for short periods of time and for a specific purpose. Which of course is exactly what we all did when we were first dating. Scientific studies show that there are only two things that motivate human beings such as ourselves and they are as follows : 1) money and 2) pain. Actually I may have taken that particular finding from research on psychopaths and serial killers but I still believe it applies to us…. So hear me out bros. If you fuck up your marriage and she divorces you… that is going to cost you a BOATLOAD OF MONEY (trust me on that) and THAT will be very very PAINFUL. Also, even if you never took Psych 101 or are a big dumb jock with a brain the size of a walnut due to sports injuries and multiple concussions you had to have noticed that even if you are BORED TO DEATH with your spouse’s crap, their ways of doing things, their tendency to act just like their mother (who you see as the ultimate NIGHTMARE VERSION of what you fear your partner will become) the QUICKEST WAY to realize how much you love, adore, and need her is made crystal clear ten seconds after she kicks your sorry ass to the curb. You can hate her, be disgusted by her face and body, her squinty eyes, that annoying mole or skin tab on her cheek or upper back and the color of her toenails on Tuesday but on the Wednesday after she packs up her shit and leaves you will be masturbating obsessively to her Instagram photos and trying to use satellite technology and the “zoom” feature in the computer tool bar to spot clues as to who she might now be fucking. That’s some right brutal shit on the male ego gentlemen, and its totally unnecessary if you do the one thing you have never done before…which is to have an organized action plan ready to go ahead of time. I know. We hate to do that and just like the sick fucks that we are we get obscene pleasure from rushing out at the last minute to do the things we were supposed to do for them last week and then pretend that the sloppy wad of wilted flowers from Publix (that you got half-priced) was really ordered from a premium select organic grower in Napa Valley who you’ve been corresponding with on a regular basis for weeks… if not months. Dont act like you dont know what I mean or that your self-centered manshit doesnt stink. Have you ever gone to a restaurant and told your beloved she should take the chair that faces the dining room because its “prettier” and has a better view of the open kitchen but really it’s because you can see the Falcons game on the big screen TV the other way…. not to mention the supermodel in the red miniskirt and riding boots who keeps crossing and uncrossing her legs like she’s sending Morse code/ maritime distress signals to the bartender? Alrighty then….you need the app. Now all I gotta do is create the algorithm. I can tell you that it will at LEAST include doing one thing each week that your better half loves to do and you absolutely despise (while lying or seated in a certain “cuddly”/comfy/close but totally non-sexual position). That’s not the really hard part. The hard part is teaching yourself to not let it leak out of your pores just how noxious it is to sit and watch reruns of Desperate Housewives, Sex and the City or the Twilight Saga vampire film series without your cellphone in hand and your laptop with game scores and postgame highlights within your visual field 24/7. How incredibly lame are vampires with no shirt on? Just try to remember: This is gonna hurt but in the end will save you a bundle. So bite the silver bullet before it’s too late and “Man Up”.