Which Angry, Hurtful, Bitter Lover Type Are You?

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We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, 10 1/2 months is an eternity for most relationships. We like to think we’ve been a very attentive partner, but we know there’s been times when we’ve taken you for granted. It’s nothing conscious, it’s not because you’ve gained weight, we think that’s sexy, it means you’re comfortable with us. What we’re saying is, we’re taking this relationship seriously and are trying to take a look at ourselves, and see if this is going to work out.

I found a survey this morning on CNN.com from health.com. Now, if this were some bullshit from health.org or health.net or bonerstrengthsuperplus.edu I wouldn’t be taking it anywhere this seriously. But these guys clearly had to be around since the dawn of the internet to get that kind of prime URL real estate, so they can obviously be trusted to be experts on all subjects related to the health of any living thing. It’s pretty all encompassing, and when you think about the magnitude of their promise to the internet, you almost have to kind of feel sorry for them. But I’m digressing, and while I know you think that’s one of our more indearing qualities, I need to focus, this is for us. So shushy now, baby. Shushy shush.

Their article explains:

Experts say there are six different ways you can be in love, and your love style may change over the course of your relationship.

The purest, most beautiful example of true love ever recorded on film.
The purest, most beautiful example of true love ever recorded on film.

Oh, to be a love expert. It seems that all of life’s little problems would certainly be solved were one to be an expert in love. I wonder what type of schooling a love expert must complete to earn the title of “Dr. Love”. I’ll tell you what type, the school of life, brother. Because that’s where love happens. Love doesn’t happen in a book, or a web site, or an alley behind the coffee shop where you and your new friend just sat through your court appointed AA meeting. Love happens in your face, and occasionally on your face, and you’ve got to be ready to see it, know it and tell it “Hey, I know you, you’re love, I’m all up in everything you are.” And love will see you and blush and smile, and Jack, you’re all up in love’s under panties from there until the universe fucking explodes as long as you don’t stick your love in any of love’s friends.

I like to think of myself as a semi-professional expert on all things love and romance. In the school of love I major in romance with a double minor in “Uhh” and “You like that?” And being a pursuer of this elusive thing called love, I am always learning, always striving to answer the questions that love presents me. So when no less than health.com asks me, “Which is your love style?” well you better believe that I’m going to answer the hell out of that mostly rhetorical question. And hard.

The romantic

You love being in love. You may be swept away by your new lover’s looks or other appealing physical attributes — and disappointed when they change over time.

I do, indeed, LOVE being in love. If someone were to ask me the thing that I loved most in life, without blinking I would say “love”. If they were to ask what I loved second, I would blink and tell them “loving love”. And while physical attributes are certainly one of the things that I love loving, it’s not the only thing to be loved. Certainly breasts, the “Hey there” and “Look at me” of the female anatomy catch the eye like two suckable mounds of flesh aching to be ogled, and the shapely bottom, so curvy and spankable scream at the top of their butt lungs, “I am personality, I am things that we have in common!” but… what were we saying again? Ah yes, butt lungs.

The list-maker

“You have criteria that are important, and you won’t change them,” Schwartz says. Even if you’re in a committed relationship, you may put too much pressure on your partner to live up to your standards.

The “Schwartz” referenced above is apparently “Dr. Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., a sociology professor at the University of Washington in Seattle”. I can only assume that she would be one of the experts in question, since she is being presented as such. But it seems to me that this is more a complaint about past experiences rather than an honest classification of lover. I am deeply sorry that “Pepper” has been hurt in the past for not trying to reach even the most simple and basic requirements of love, but I hardly think that here, now, in this arena of love expertism, is the proper place to air her grievances against an ex who has supposedly wronged her. She does not so much seem to classify this as a “type of love person” as calling this “type” of lover “a fucking prick who I could never fucking satisfy no matter how hard I never tried!”

 The obsessive

You want to spend all your time with your partner. And you constantly worry about your relationship, even when you’ve been together for years. Schwartz says this kind of partner can be overbearing or have highs and lows that drive her significant other crazy.

Oookay. I am starting to see a pattern here. This is clearly not a list of the types of lover you may or not be, but the types of people who have hurt Dr. Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., sociology professor at the University of Washington in Seattle. I came into this article expecting to explore the many varied ways in which we as human animals legitimately love one another, emotionally, spiritually, in the butt, and instead have simply found the tear soaked rantings of a “love expert” repeatedly hurt by the very thing she professers her unquestioned knowledge of. Your expertise is in question Pep, by no greater authority than I, Loveiticus 9, defender of love in all of its dirty, sticky forms.

The giver

You may give more than you get. “At some point, you find that it’s all going one way,” Schwartz says. You’re constantly working selflessly to meet your partner’s needs, but you’re not looking after you.

How much more can Pepper do for you? You ungrateful slovenly fuck! She has no life outside of professing sociology inside the claustrophobic walls of the University of Washington in Seattle, and coming home to find you in your under pants playing Call of Duty and talking dirty to some fourteen year old boy over the headset! No she won’t play too, she doesn’t like video games, she likes sociology and love and being an expert. Did you even look for a job today? How many pizza boxes are you going to stack before Dr. Pepper Schwartz, Ph.D., sociology professor at the University of Washington in Seattle is killed by their inevitable toppling?

The player

You love courtship. “For these lovers, the chase is a lot of it,” Schwartz says. You’re easily bored in long-term relationships, though, and your eye may roam.

You son of a bitch! Fine, you know what? Fine. Just fine! Go ahead then, run off with her, she’s nineteen, her tits are firm and perky, she doesn’t smell like sociology books and vending machine sandwiches. After everything Pepper has done for you, she just wasn’t enough? She let you put your finger in her butt just to make you stop begging and this is how you treat her!? Well we hope this “barista” skank has syphilitic herpes crabs and your balls fall off!

The pal

Love seems to creep up on you. One day you think, “Wow, I’ve really been spending a lot of time with Jack,” then realize you’re in love. In the long term, your relationship may be quiet, but it’s strong.

Oh Jack, it’s always been you hasn’t it? I can’t believe Pepper never noticed it until now. The way you open the door for her or nod hello when she passes you in the halls of the University of Washington in Seattle. But you’re from two different worlds. You’re a maintenance man, rough hands bending materials to your will, solving complicated mechanical problems with your hard earned knowledge and lateral thinking. And she’s a Ph. D. in sociological professoring. It could never work, could it? Oh, I guess she’s just a dreamer. THE DREAMER! Type 7! Oh Pepper, you’ve got a WHOLE ‘nother paper on your hands!

Ain’t love horrible and inequitable?

We'll all die alone, a lifetime of regrets the last thought in our mind... SMOOCHES!
We'll all die alone, a lifetime of regrets the last thought in our mind... SMOOCHES!


Recipes for Life

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We found an ADORABLE article today from Glamour Magazine (it’s what we wrap the racin’ forms in so the broad ain’t wise!) about a magical, legally binding chicken dish. You see, 26 years ago, the fashion editor at Glamour passed on this recipe to her assistant, which she herself was given by a whimsical tree spirit who only appears once every fourth blue moon to dispense enchanted home cookin’ blue prints. So the assistant made this cursed chicken for her boyfriend and as a DIRECT RESULT of having prepared the be-fouled be-feast upon her easily swayed “man”, and because of no other possible explanation, only one short month later she was all proposed up. Naturally, as a stipulation of being given this recipe, the bearer must relinquish it to their next most desperate, un-wed sister so that it might sap the will from another unsuspecting male, ensnaring him in the unbreakable bonds of matrimony with the wicked spinster who dares unleash it’s power. And over the 26 years since it’s discovery, this “Engagement Chicken” as it’s cursed name has come to be uttered by the damned men, has been solely responsible for the marriages of 72, chicken duped men.

Numbers like that don’t lie. 72 marriages in 26 years to people who heard about a recipe. That’s clearly “Engagement Strength Chicken”. And while more marriages in this country can probably be linked to first meetings at a biker bar orgy, we would not dare to suggest that this dish is anything but a spinster wish granting miracle. But there are so many other foods that can easily be linked to other interpersonal interactions. So after hunting down the curse gnome, whom as everyone knows, is hidden in the third easternly facing knot of every tree there is, we shook him ’till his truths tumbled out and discovered these equally useful and delicious recipes. Enjoy.

Let’s Just Be Friends Biscuits:


You're just TOO nice.
Youre just TOO nice.

2 cups flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons shortening
1 cup buttermilk, chilled


Preheat oven to a smoldering bitterness.

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Using your long history together by this point, rub in some of the more embarrassing facts that you’ve picked up about each other. Make a well in the center of your partner’s soul, make sure you pour in enough “it’s not you, it’s me” and abruptly part company. You can pick up your shit at his place later, right now, you just need to get away for a bit. Maybe go to that cabin in Tahoe for as long as you can without getting fired. How they deal with it is their problem.

Bake until biscuits are tall and light gold on top, 15 to 20 minutes.



Me and you and her make, yum.
Me and you and her make, yum.

1/2 cup teriyaki sauce
1/2 cup honey
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 pinch ground ginger
2 red bell peppers, cut into 2 inch pieces
1 large sweet onion, peeled and cut into wedges
1 1/2 cups whole fresh mushrooms
1 pound beef sirloin, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 1/2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken breast halves – cut into cubes skewers


In a large resealable plastic bag, mix the teriyaki sauce, honey, garlic powder, and ginger. Drop direct, unambiguous hints to your significant other that it might be fun if you tried to spice up the relationship. If they ask if you are trying to suggest a threesome, tell them no, unless they think it might be fun. Seal, and refrigerate 4 to 24 hours.

Preheat grill for medium-high heat. Ask if you heard right that their old college roommate would be in town for a couple weeks and tell them if they need a place to stay, you’re cool with then staying with us.

Discard marinade, tell her if she wants, you can try two dudes first, and if that works, you know, maybe the other thing. Grill skewers for 10 minutes, turning as needed, or until meat is cooked through and vegetables are tender.

Alimony Stuffed Pork Chops:



2 boneless pork loin chops, butterflied
4 ounces crumbled blue cheese
2 slices bacon – cooked and crumbled
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
garlic salt to taste
ground black pepper to taste
chopped fresh parsley for garnish


Preheat the oven to that fucking bitch!

In a small bowl, mix together the blue cheese, bacon and I hope she fucking dies! Every fucking month, like, for the rest of my fucking life I’ve got to do this shit. Season each chop with garlic salt and pepper. Keep in mind that the blue cheese will be a fucking cunt, and always cut my god damned one weekend a month short and pretend it was a god damned accident!

I swear to fucking Christ, if I could murder her without anyone ever knowing, the hardest part about it would be deciding how. I know for certain though, that I would jerk off on the corpse, and I would laugh so hard, like a hell clown in a tickle fight!

Garnish with fresh parsley and serve.

I Meant To Tell You I Have Herpes Tea:


Listen... Hoo-boy...
Listen... Hoo-boy...

2 orange pekoe tea bags
1 cup boiling water
5 ice cubes
4 teaspoons sweetened condensed milk
3 teaspoons honey


Steep the tea bags in hot water. Tell them not to freak out and that you weren’t even sure you actually really had it because you only had that one break out a couple years ago and then another one about a week ago but you thought those were just brought on by stress. Genital stress blisters. You read about it somewhere. Discard the tea bags and let the tea cool.

Combine the ice cubes, sweetened condensed milk, and trying to convince them that it’s alright and that more people have herpes now a days than don’t. If they don’t believe you, sit together in awkward silence for several hours, pour in the tea and mix well, a strong, flavorful milk tea is ready for you to enjoy.