Tell Me If This is Funny: Hot Sauce Litmus Test

hot sauce and dating

Would you rather go on a date with your last bad date again or get hot sauce in a not hot place?

Last night I was all fired up. This is not uncommon. I have a fiery disposition.

Sometimes when I’m feeling frustrated or angry or I’m just trying to work through some issues I find myself talking to people who aren’t there in the mirror.

No, I don’t mean imaginary people.

I mean real people that I have met in real life who just happen to not be present while I am having the conversation.

I suppose it is not a conversation since they have no opportunity to rebuttal.

I guess you’d have to call it a monologue directed at a specific individual who will never hear it. Whatever. I know for a fact that I am not the only one who has these sorts of mirror monologues.

Anyway, last night I was having this anger-filled mirror monologue as I was getting ready for bed. In between washing my face and brushing my teeth etc. I was yelling all sorts of things at this dude.

These were not nice things.

There was a lot of name-calling, a lot of calling out this dude’s bullshit, several sentences that went something like:

“sometimes I wish that I tried to be less understanding of other people’s motivations and instead just told them to fuck off without hearing their point of view.”

Things like that.

I called him an asshole.

I was taking out my contacts around the same time I was calling him an asshole. I sort of forgot that right before I decided to go to bed I had eaten a cheese quesadilla covered in hot sauce.

You can imagine what happened next.

Oh yes. The residual hot sauce made a lasting impression on my eyeball. And by lasting I mean it burnt like a motherfucker for about 10 to 15 seconds in which I immediately began apologizing to the man in the mirror who wasn’t really there.

I was like, “FINE, YOU’RE NOT AN ASSHOLE!”

Then the hot sauce eye burning went away.

And I was like, okay, maybe you’re a little bit of an asshole but would I go through that entire dating experience again versus having hot sauce go in my eyeball?

Yes.

Yes. I would even rather go on a date with him again knowing fully the exact kind of asshole he is than have hot sauce go anywhere near my eye.

That’s how much it hurts to have hot sauce in the eyeball.


Now, I have decided that this is going to be the litmus test for all of my past, present, and future relationships.

Does this hurt more than hot sauce in the eye?

If yes, never speak to person again.

If no, then don’t yell at them in the mirror when they cannot reply back. Instead, say it to their face with hot sauce in hand and if they say something mean to you throw the hot sauce in their eye!


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Or don’t. You do you. Fight dirty, clean, or hot, it’s up to you.

Anyhoo.

What would you choose: hot sauce in the eye or another date with your last bad relationship?

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Hot Tub Love Machine

effort in romantic relationships

Love in a Hot Tub

On Effort in Relationships

A couple of weeks ago my friend offered me her hot tub. This is one of those inflatable hot tubs that fits like 4 to 6 people. She said I could have it if I cleaned it out and found a way to get it to my house.

When I arrived the hot tub was deflated and covered in snow. Once I got the snow off I discovered that it also had two inches of solid ice gluing it to the ground.

I spent the entire afternoon boiling water trying to melt the ice while lightly hitting it with a hoe to break up the ice but not so heavy as to put a hole through the bottom of it.

Getting it to my house was another kind of disaster.

Eventually, I succeeded.

It was then, at my house that I remembered how the neighbors had decided to randomly build a new fence over the summer without telling us and how the construction workers had busted our outdoor pipe. They replaced it with some cheap PVC which busted during our first winter day.

One of my very helpful and thoughtful friends helped me repair the busted pipe.

I thought we were good to go, but the instructions on inflating the hot tub were ridiculous and I couldn’t figure it out. Another friend came along and assisted.

Finally, after more cleaning etc. I was able to start filling it up. That’s when we realized the pipe didn’t seal properly and half of the water coming out was going all over the ground.

I was determined after all of the bullshit just to get it there and setup that I was going to get that fucker working. I spent about four hours filling up the hot tub with 5-gallon buckets from the kitchen sink.

Then the weather shifted. It started to snow. The temperature dropped to like 10 degrees.

The hot tub refused to get hot.

I had a party, which was one of the main reasons I had decided to set up the hot tub to begin with. Instead of any of us sitting in it there was a long debate about how to make it hotter. Some of us started pouring boiling water in it. Others suggested heating up a stone to plop in there, a few of us wondering if a hot stone would be so hot as to burn a hole through the bottom.

In any event, none of it worked. It stayed at a steady 97 degrees until finally, several days later, once the weather improved, made its way to 102.

It was quite a disaster. And a rather boring story to be honest, but then I started to look at this entire situation as a symbol for my most recent past relationship.

All of this effort for a few moments of pleasure. Then it just turns into a time suck that wastes energy, resources, and requires daily maintenance for use. The pH balance has to be just right and you have to take care of the filter to keep debris, dirt, random objects from causing damage, decay, imbalance.

The question comes down to whether or not it’s worth it for something hot and heavy.

The answer for me is no.

I don’t need my relationships to be projects. I don’t need to put all my energy into something that gives very little in return.

I’m grateful for all the help I got along the way and I’m sure we will get some use out of it, but lesson learned.

Next time when I want to get wet I’ll just take a bath.

Tell Me If This is Funny: Taking Doggie Style Way Too Far

Are Dogs Really Man’s Best Friend?

or

Caution: This May Gross You Out

A couple of years ago I had a regular friend-with-benefits. Every Monday we’d have some sort of sexual experience. It usually consisted of me getting tied up and beat, forced orgasm, etc. He was a dom and had a couple of other subs he played with as well.

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One day he told me that one of the other subs had a strong desire to get fucked by a dog.

A dog.

I was immediately grossed out.

“Excuse me? No.” I said.

“No what?” He asked.

“No. I will not continue our regular rendezvous if you have sex with someone who has sex with dogs. That crosses a line for me. That’s not even six degrees of separation from me and a dog.”

Hear the doggie story here. . .

I have no idea if that woman ever had sex with a dog. I’m sure she did because when people want to do fucked up stuff they usually do. The guy and I ended our sex sessions for other reasons that are irrelevant to the story.

Fast forward to a few days ago. I don’t know what kind of boredom I was going through but I decided to dive into the disgusting world of women getting fucked by dogs. It was relatively easy to find a whole slew of videos of women and man’s best friend together, intimate in ways that go beyond a nice scratch behind the ears.

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I clicked on a video of a woman tied to a chair with a dog penetrating her pussy.

“Well, I mean, it looks like she had no choice in the matter here.”

Fast forward.

The woman now untied was actively sucking this dog’s penis.

Like, she liked it.

Have you ever see an erect dog penis?

It’s even more disgusting than a human male penis. Plus, it’s connected to, well, a dog.

I watched about twenty seconds of it. I was fascinated to be honest.

Just think. There are thousands of men in the world that want their dicks sucked who never or rarely get their dicks sucked and here are all these women sucking and fucking dog cock.

Sure, we could blame the fact that some men are involuntarily celibate on their terrible personalities… or like a rancid fart, we could just blame the dog?

Tell Me If This Is Funny: Dress for the Night You Want

I am Not a Comedian

But You Can Laugh If You Want To

Sometimes late at night when I cannot fall asleep dumb little stories come into my head. I decided instead of letting them float off into oblivion I would get up and write them down. To extend this even further I am now attempting to say them out loud.

Below is my first attempt at a new series I’d like to call, “Tell Me If This is Funny.” Don’t worry if won’t hurt my feelings if you think it is not funny, believe me I’ve been rejected more times than you could imagine, maybe even more than you.

Remember, you have to actually attempt things in order to get rejected from them. But, perhaps I’m just preaching to the choir here.

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I give mad props to the people in the world that do stand-up. It’s a brutal world and honestly, I’m just not interested in spending time in that scene. I’ve been to open mics and I’ve seen that struggle. The brutal pain of a silent response. The cringe-worthy moments when people go too far in a way that isn’t funny to anyone anywhere in any way.

But, I digress.

Here’s a video of me trying to make a joke. I did this in one take. Let me know what you think… if you’re so inclined.