If you're looking for Manwhore Monday, well then, by golly, you're in luck.
For some reason, the Manwhore and I got into a conversation about marriage this week. Perhaps he has it on the mind since he has a new 40-year old, recently divorced client-turned-girlfriend. (I use the word "girlfriend" loosely when talking about the Manwhore's lady friends). When he told me she was Greek, my immediate reaction was, “So, let me guess--now you’re Greek?” His shocking response was, “Just because she’s Greek doesn’t mean I have to be Greek.” What? Perhaps the Manwhore is turning a new leaf.
For some reason, the Manwhore and I got into a conversation about marriage this week. Perhaps he has it on the mind since he has a new 40-year old, recently divorced client-turned-girlfriend. (I use the word "girlfriend" loosely when talking about the Manwhore's lady friends). When he told me she was Greek, my immediate reaction was, “So, let me guess--now you’re Greek?” His shocking response was, “Just because she’s Greek doesn’t mean I have to be Greek.” What? Perhaps the Manwhore is turning a new leaf.
The following conversation has nothing to do with his new Grecian princess, nor the fact that he passed out halfway on my couch, halfway on my floor, on Saturday night with some girl he ran into at a club. Also, I should forewarn you that he alludes to the mythical drink preferred by haters everywhere, “Haterade.” I'm just the messenger.
Manwhore: Why wasn’t I invited to your Xmas party?
Me: First of all, it isn’t a Christmas party. How quickly your feeble mind forgets your Jewish roots. It’s a Hannukah party at best, a Holiday party at worst and a Christmas party never. Plus, we can’t have guests unless we’re married to them—interested in anyone at my office?
[Note: Here he starts talking about himself in the third person]
Manwhore: Luring the Manwhore into marriage will take more work than a Christmas, I mean, “Holiday,” party. Most girls are clearly unfit to marry the Manwhore. As I said in an earlier email: women will only fuck me – date me, never.
Me: And herein lies the paradox; anyone who is fit to marry is not fit to marry the Manwhore.
Manwhore: Are you saying you’re fit for marriage and the Manwhore isn’t? I think I’m offended.
Me: No, I’m just saying that it takes a special type of girl to marry the Manwhore. Hmmm…the kind of girl who is willing to marry the Manwhore? Think Courtney Love in The People vs. Larry Flynt. In essence, the Manwhore is fit for marriage, but not fit for someone of an, ummm, desirable caliber.
Manwhore: Are you saying you’re fit for marriage and the Manwhore isn’t? I think I’m offended.
Me: No, I’m just saying that it takes a special type of girl to marry the Manwhore. Hmmm…the kind of girl who is willing to marry the Manwhore? Think Courtney Love in The People vs. Larry Flynt. In essence, the Manwhore is fit for marriage, but not fit for someone of an, ummm, desirable caliber.
Manwhore: On the contrary, the Manwhore feels he’d make a great husband. His, ahem, experience pays off in the bedroom, and he’s also a good provider for the family. Even if he does stray now and again, he’d be quite tolerant if his wife strays, so it’s all for the best. Top that!
Me: And Courtney Love made a great wife...even had threesomes, foursomes and orgies with the guy. Until, I think, Larry got aids. Then he was faithful to her. Is that right? I think we're in agreement?
Manwhore: The Manwhore thinks you’ve been suckling upon the Haterade teet.
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