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„I red about it recently, it`s called financial mobbing!“ – she said and I just couldn`t help agreeing. Not in the name of the feminine solidarity but because of the simple human sympathy.

As we all know it, things are far from fine. OK, we`re still in the middle of the crisis, no matter what they say. People are afraid of losing their jobs, everyone are up to their noses in debts and loans, the costs and expenses are rising and when you pay all the sxxt you`re suppose to you may say you can barely buy the food. And what my favorite aunt says, the man is a hunter, he is inborn with a social role of the family provider. And when he is not capable to do it as he should on the required level – he suffers. Sure, but how, in which way he will express it – that is a completely other topic.

Hear, hear!

He watches closely, on daily basis, how, where and on what she spends every cent. They are not going anywhere, not even visiting their friends, because he always says no. But the fights about the money are taking place every day in every occasion for almost every single thing. In the same time, he insists to check every bill and receipt she ever paid, he daily checks her and his account, just in case she may spend on something they don`t really need.

Where are they now? Huh, everyday arguments, fights, groans, sighs, snorts, grumble, shouting, and the worst of all they came to long loathing silences. Hard, right? She says that she tries to explain that life is full of ups and downs, that she remembers when her parents had it, that is will pass, that`s just life but he won`t listen.

So what she does? Well, at this point, for her little needs, she is trying to avoid using the credit card, that in every opportunity she gets, hides a buck or two every day, and even if she buys something to herself, like a face cream, she hides it somewhere in the house, sometimes even in their child`s toys. For the new shoes she bought she said it was a gift from her mother. I mean the woman is tricking and jilting that much that she feels like a crock or at least a secret agent in her own house! So for that reason, she is thinking about leaving him.

What about their intimacy? None. Zip. Zero. And I mean not a trace, like looking for a decent meal in a vegan restaurant. Sex? She doesn`t remembers when something even close happened last time. And how will she? Seriously, who sleeps with it`s enemy? They keep each other on the shooting line from the time they wake up until they are asleep. She doesn`t feels like it. He doesn`t understands.

Really? Can`t figure it out why? OK, let me explain, from a woman`s perspective. This kind of fascist patronizing behavior is sending only one message – that she is an idiot, a small irresponsible child for which someone else has to bring the decisions because she is simply not capable for it. And then after such a humiliating treatment you expect the reimbursement of anything and even physical love? Really? How interesting. Wake up ego-khan, trust me, it ain`t gonna happen! Respect is a two-way street, same as the appreciation. She is not a moron, or your child, or your property. Capisce?

You can often hear how people are simply disgust by just a mention that somebody have actually paid for sex with a prostitute. They got married but didn`t properly understood that you have to earn your wife`s love. You never ever take her for granted.

So, if you are asking are you paying for sex the answer is affirmative – yes you are. Always. The thing is that it is not always with money. There are actually only few things that woman needs to be felt loved and to return that love with huge interests. Just three words with the most powerful meaning and remember them well – respect, attention, trust.

And now go, run as your feet carry you to show it!

Because we deserve it, 176.

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Lazy afternoon on the couch. Thinking about… nothing. And it`s glorious. As soon as I start to move for another finely tuned loafer`s position the phone starts ringing.

Me: Hallo?

Him: Well hello! How are you ?

Me, peskily for not having a clue who`s the owner of the voice: Oh, I`m fine. How are you?

Him: Well not so great. You see I have a problem and I think that you may help me with it.

Me: Ahmmmmm….OK… What is it?

Him, with a heavy sigh: How to start… OK, you know how they say that the poison is always kept in small bottles?

Me: Aha…..? ….(Poison? What poison?!?)

Him: You see my daughter has a friend. She, my daughter I mean, is very tall but her new best friend is quite tiny.

OK, there is something so weird here. Who is this guy and what the hell is he talking about?!?

Then he said: Small yes but that girl is so…. malicious. My daughter use to be so sweet and caring and she…

Me: OK, OK…Sir? Can you please tell me with WHO you wanted to speak in the first place?

Him, surprised: With you of course!

Me: I`m not sure….Sir, are you sure you have the right number?

Him: Of course I do! Where was I…ah yes…Anyway, she met her about 2 months ago and my wife started to realize that…

Me, much louder: SIR??? Please! Listen to me! I really bealive that you got the wrong number! Who were you calling?

Him, offended: The Youth Counsel Centre!

Me: OK, that explains it. You got a completely wrong number! This is definitively not it.

Him: Oh!… Oh, I`m sorry…I was convinced…I`m really sorry.

Me, more relaxed: That`s OK. It is easy to press just one wrong key to…

Him: I am really sorry but you have such a calming, soothing voice. You should work as a therapist!

Me: Thank you but I bealive it`s a little too late for that. Well, I hope that you now dial the right number and…

Him: Oh I really mean it! Have you thought about it?

Me: No, not really. OK, I wish you a good day!

Him: No, no thank you and I apologize once again.

Me: It`s alright. Bye!

And you know what is the completely weird part? That evening I`ve looked for the phone numbers of the Youth Counsel Centre, and I mean all the numbers, and not one is even close to mine. So what the hell was that?!? But let`s look on the bright side – I have a soothing voice, said the man. So it must be that my new hobby is an amateur teen guiding.

Because me, my voice and my phone deserve it, vol. 77.

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Warning – the poem it`s not mine but it is funny enough to be shared. Ready?

P.S. to my dear male friends, please don`t be offended, after all the poem is about mamma`s boys, not you

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