Archive for live-in

The Live-In Part 2

Posted in Real Talk with tags , , , , , , , , on July 23, 2009 by Diggems

Welcome to part 2 of living with your lady. I’m sure the women are already storming the gates and deploying specialized assassins to bring my head back on a pike. It wouldn’t be the first time. It’s ok ladies I’m just looking out for my fellow “brothers in arms”. Sit back and enjoy part 2…

Fun Police
Now that you’re all moved in and spending quality time, the next new awaking is the introduction to the fun police. From this point forth all fun has to be accountable and controlled by her. You are no longer allowed to enjoy yourself unless it involves her in some form or fashion.

You remember the day when you could just leave the house, hang out with the fellas, have the time of your life and tell her about it later. Yeah bro, those days are over. Now, fun must be handled with a similar mentality of a dope boy slanging crack rocks. You have to be crafty when you do it. You can’t let the whole world know you’re doing it, and you always have to be on the lookout for the fun police when in public. Nothing will piss your lady off more than her knowing that you’re enjoying yourself without her!

Checking in and Curfews
Whatever Diggems, I’m a grown man. I don’t have a curfew. I wish my lady would tell me when and where I need to be. She’s not my momma!”

Ahhh yes, male pride. I remember when I use to have that. The funny thing about having another mother is that you actually start to appreciate your real one. At least when you were a kid and missed your curfew you were grounded for a few day and then she left you alone.

As a grown man with a live-in girlfriend you don’t have the luxury of being left alone. Instead you get the never-ending argument of where you were, who you were with and what you were doing; then to top it off you have to sleep next to her. Can you imagine getting bitched out by your mom at the tender age of 14 and then having to sleep next to her when she’s done? At first your pride does nothing but get you in more trouble. You try to explain things. You take a stand. You win battle after battle. But then, finally, one day you just lose the will to fight. She wins the war. They always do.

When you guys were dating, all your friends loved your lady and she loved them. She was the cool chick that was down for whatever. She was a part of the circle.

Now that you live with her, all of a sudden, you spend entirely too much time with your friends. Every instance of interaction with your pals ends in an argument of who you want to be with more. You can’t even bring her around as often anymore because of the underlying tension. If they come over to your place your girl gives you her best stank bitch impersonation, and it’s always spot on. You end up sneaking around to see your friends as if it’s some type of twisted love affair.

Hey man, she just left. Can I come by?” You whisper like an escaping convict.

Sure. Does she know you’re coming over?” Your friend replies, showing true concern for your safety.

No. So I can only stay for the first half of the game,” you utter like a whipped dog.

Dude! You are such a bitch.

I know man, I know,” you admit like the bitch you’ve become.

Stay tuned for the conclusion. The Live-In part 3


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The Live-in Part 1

Posted in Real Talk with tags , , , , , , on July 21, 2009 by Diggems

The set up
You’ve found the perfect girl. She’s hot, funny, your friends love her, the sex is incredible and you even like the same stupid things.

One day while the both of you are out eating ice cream, she hits you with a question, “Where do you think this relationship is heading?”

You’re so shocked to hear this that you damn near choke on your creamy delight. All you can think is, “please don’t talk about marriage.”

Then she hits you with it, “I think we should move in together.”

You’re instantly relieved because it’s not what you thought it would be. Now your guard is down and she has you exactly where she wants you. Take it from me man. Don’t do it. Drop the ice-cream and run. Don’t look back just keep running. Run like Freddy Kruger is on your ass. Run like the police found a murder weapon with your finger prints, run for your fucking life.

Don’t Do It!
I know what your probably thinking. Not my girl man. She’s great. We laugh, talk, get along, everybody loves her, it’s all good man. Yeah, that’s what me and many other defeated men said as well. Many of my friends tried to warn me, my dad even tried to warn me; in fact every man who’s ever lived with their woman for more than a year all said the exact same thing, “Think that shit through man, don’t rush it, believe me.”

And now here I am saying the same gems that were passed along to me that I duly ignored. Think it out man. Really think it out.

I’ve composed a few things that you are guaranteed to go through if you decide not to listen to me. I wouldn’t really call it advice. It’s more like an explanation of the process that you’re going to go through. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t warn you.

The Move In
First things first. Now that you’ve told the lady of your life that you are willing and wanting to spend every waking moment with them (more on this later), you have to consolidate all your things to go into one location… hold on, let me correct that, you have to get rid of most of your shit so that she can keep all of her shit.

The great poster of the dogs playing poker? Gone! Your incredible collection of girly magazines? Peace! The great sofa that you’ve slept on, ate on, gamed on, watched movies and cheered for your favorite team!?!? Boy stop… adios! In your lady’s eyes it’s all trash.

Your walls will soon be lined with photographs of ballets and horses. You’ll have things in your crib that you’ve never seen before like end tables, coasters and candles.

Whether you’re moving in with her, getting a new place, or she’s moving in with you; the end result will always be the same. You are officially a visitor in a place where you pay rent or a mortgage. Get use to it because it’s never going to change. If you’re lucky and some of us actually are, you’ll get a little room off to the side for your stuff. In reality it’s just a storage facility for the things she’s willing to tolerate… for now.

Quality Time
The only time I’ve ever really heard this term used is when I lived with my lady. When you lived in separate spaces quality time was ANY time spent with your significant other. You guys were so in love back then that even a small chat in the living room was a memorable moment. Not anymore. Even though you see your lady all day every day, it’s still not enough. Quality time takes on a whole new meaning when you’re living with your lady. I’ve worked it out into a mathematical equation that can easily sum it up:

The amount of quality time (qt) received is directly proportional to the amount of money spent ($) multiplied by the distance traveled (dt) to reach quality time destination. ($ x dt = qt)

If you happened to be going with friends. That number is divided by how many other people go with you ($ x dt/f = qt). If those other people include your male friends, the power of that division is doubled ($ x dt/2f = qt). I know that all sounds strange to you guys that have never done this before but trust me the math is perfect.

Stayed tuned for part 2


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