The “Man Up” Restore Relationship Phone App…. Just for Men

mrwonderfulrestorerelapp

 
To the Dummies and the Haters: This is SATIRE bitches. I’m not serious. It’s not a real thing. It’s a satirical essay about MEN and how we are sometimes. Comprende?
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If you happen to be a man who procrastinates a lot, is self-absorbed, is not at all consistent with the doling out of affection, verbal expressions of love, positive complements, gift-giving, card buying, having any understanding or patience with gfs and their emotional bullshit, are totally selfish in bed such as forgetting about little things like kissing, foreplay, female orgasms or your partner’s pleasure, 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 here) or just plain dont dig all the lovey-dovey stuff that chicks are into including celebrating every event like birthdays, anniversaries, half-birthdays, quarter-anniversaries, the calendar or digital clock turning to 1111 (wtf is that?) …then you may want to download CaptCliff’s “Restore Relationship” cellphone app.
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The basic premise of the Man Up phone app and it’s empirically derived “SAVE RELATIONSHIP” algorhythm is as follows:
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Most women even if they are crazy in love with you at first are likely to get fed up with your (and my) respective man bullshit because:  1)  we are quite often stupid pricks and can be big jerks  2) we do say dumb, insensitive and hurtful things especially when mad, annoyed or tired and  3) we are hopelessly inferior and not even a fraction as hot, muscular or well-hung as the Prince Charming/Mr Wonderful dude pictured above and described in every romantic book, novel, song, movie, fairy tale and hen story told around the ladies-only bonfire and inside the menstrual hut/communal kitchen by women, their best friends, and all their extended female relatives including mothers, grandmothers and even great-grandmothers (who you might think would know better with advanced age). However, the main reason they dont know any better or accept actual reality about guys is simply because they fucking LOVE THEIR ROMANTIC TARZAN MEETS SUPERMAN MYTHOLOGY. I’m serious. That’s their mental, emotional and sexual caffeinated Red Bull energy drink. It’s their baby pablum/mothers milk growing up, their teen-aged fantasy drug of choice and their Kim Kardashian Queen Bee royal jelly body lotion. They consume this romantic fantasy stuff like guys enjoy endless rashers of fatty bacon at Waffle House and IHOP.
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By the way, dont try to tell me your woman has a Ph.D. in Neuroscience and doesn’t think in this unrealistic way about you. Bullcrap. James Holmes the orange-haired Batman mass murderer in Colorado was on his way to getting his Neuroscience PhD doctorate degree too and look how useless all that scientific stuff was in keeping him from going totally psycho fruitcake at the movie theater. Even tho the rational part of a woman’s brain may tell them that “fantasy is not reality” and that reality often involves yucky things like dirty fingernails, man farts, body odor, poor oral hygiene, ball scratching and sniffing and occasional sexist language .…the much larger part of their brain (approximately 90%) tells them Prince Charming ( like Baby Jesus, Sasquatch, trickle down economics and winning the lottery is for psychos and rabid 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 a man’s dick off and reduce his basal temperature and  sex drive to sub-zero.  Dont ask me why women are so persistent in torturing themselves (and us) with such obviously exaggerated and counterproductive fantasies. I dont know and frankly I’m too busy pretending on Facebook that I’m 20 years younger than I am and fantasizing that there’s an exotic Playboy bunny somewhere who has a fetish for an older bald psychologist with droopy nipples and a FUPA. Dont ask. It just seems possible based on probability theory, quantum physics and the uncommon law of averages.
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Anyway, I talk too much and often forget to get to my main point. I have ADHD. Here’s my point:  Let’s face it. We ARE basically selfish dumbasses. That’s not going to change. However, with this mental reminder/action plan/ phone app you can teach yourself to 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 very specific purpose. Which, by the way is of course exactly what we all did and do when we first start dating anyone, even a gorilla.  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) physical pain.  Actually I may have taken that  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 your wife divorces you… that is going to cost you a BIG BOATLOAD OF MONEY (trust me on that one) and THAT will be very very PAINFUL.  Also, even if you never ever took IntroPsych 101 in college, didn’t go to college or are just a big dumb football jock with a brain the size of a shriveled walnut due to sports injuries and multiple concussions you had to have noticed that even if you are  totally BORED TO DEATH with your spouse’s crap, their ways of doing things, their tendency to act just like their crazyass mother (who you see as the ultimate NIGHTMARE VERSION of what you fear your partner will eventually 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 beady squinty eyes, that annoying black mole or skin tab on her right cheek or upper back and the weird color of her toenails on any given Tuesday but on the Wednesday after she packs up and leaves ……you will be masturbating obsessively to her old Instagram pics and trying to use satellite technology and the “zoom” feature in the laptop tool bar to spot clues as to who she might be fucking. That’s some right brutal shit  on the surprisingly delicate male ego gentlemen, and its completely unnecessary if you do the one thing you’ve never done before…which is have an organized  plan ready to go ahead of time.  I know. I know. We hate to do that and just like the sick fucks that we are we tend to get obscene pleasure from rushing out at the last minute to do the nice romantic things we were supposed to do for them last week and then pretend that the sloppy wad of wilted flowers from the supermarket (that you got half-priced) was really ordered from an exclusive organic flower grower in Napa Valley California who you’ve been corresponding with on a regular basis for weeks… if not months. Right. Dont act like you dont know what I mean or that your self-centered manshit doesnt stink…  Be honest. Have you ever gone to a decent restaurant and told your beloved she should take the special chair that faces the dining room because its “much prettier” and has a much better view of the open kitchen/grill but really it’s because you can see the Falcons football game on the big screen TV the other way…. not to mention the hot supermodel in the red miniskirt and riding boots who keeps crossing and uncrossing her legs like she’s sending some special Morse code or maritime distress signals to the head bartender? Alrighty then….you need my app.  Now all I gotta do is create the special algorithm. I cant tell you everything  right now but I can say that it will AT LEAST include doing one thing each week that your better half really loves to do and you absolutely positively despise (probably while lying or seated in a certain “cuddly”/comfy/close but totally non-sexual physical position). Have you ever heard the sentence, “Noooo…I just want to cuddle..”?  That’s not the really hard part. The hard part is teaching yourself to not let it leak out of your pores just how horrible and noxious it is to have 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 two laptops with game scores and postgame video highlights within your visual field 24/7. Plus, how incredibly lame are male vampires with no shirt on and bulging pecs? Ok..Ok, Just try to remember one thing: This is gonna hurt ….but in the end it will save you a fucking bundle. So bite the so-called silver bullet before it’s too damn late and “Man Up”.

About captaincliff

Psychologist by day, insomniac Pirate blogger by night, this Child of God likes to share sarcastic social commentary as well as topsy-turvy observations about life, love and the pursuit of zaniness, a functional form of insanity in an increasingly insane world
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