Hong Kong Pt 1

When I heard I was going to Hong Kong to party, it was marked on my calendar with a big YES. I was after all, going to the best clubs on VIP access and drinking on an open tab and there was really only two ways to engage this; a nice Paul Smith shirt and a box of locally bought condoms.

Hong Kong was one that had escaped my path of hedonistic partying and intemperance for debauchery. I was here 5 years ago, but I came with a chastity belt because that is one of the many drawbacks of being in a relationship.

5 years on, a lot less matured, a lot more of a tease and a blind desire to party without a conscience – because I believe I will eventually be 4 hours away for consequence to catch up to me -, I made my celebrated return, amidst the daily typhoon.

The night started at Dragon I, a club famed for celebrities and models, who litter the place for crazy champagne dosing or a mild martini nightcap. The great thing was that I was partying with players in the industry who knew enough people for me to be randomly shaking hands with women who towered over me.

That lasted over an hour and we eventually raised our protest and campaigned for a venture to a another club, which served up more of a local flavour. The thing is, it looks great to be partying with celebrities or top models, but the chance of you actually hooking up with any of them is so marginally slim, it’s like trying to make a porn flick with a conservative rights activist.

When we finally got to New Beijing, I knew I had found my sanctuary. The place was like some of the other clubs In Taiwan, spacious and a myriad of Chinese women dancing to horrible RnB music. We finally got to our table and eventually groups of women came by to join us and I immediately concocted a malleable blueprint of engagement in my head.

There was only one utopia and that was my explicit right for a bedroom companion.

I cannot write this entirely chronologically because vodka does impede my mental regurgitation of events I cannot really remember who’s tongue I tasted first. And neither do I remember names.

The Berkeley Girls

I got introduced to four girls and I proceeded to introduce myself and offered to pour them a drink.

Anna: “We already had two jagerbombs.”
Me: “When you come here, it all starts from zero. Or you can sit at the kids table over there and order an orange juice. Now, I’m bad at counting, so tell me when to stop [pouring the vodka].”

I turned to the other girl,

Me: “Yours is up next.”
Fany: “But I just had two jagerbombs.”
Me: “Your past is of no concern to me. You can have some illegitimate sons in Jamaica for all I care. Today, the mission is to go seven glasses.”
Fany: “You’re funny.”

The great thing was that these two girls were from the States, so they were much better equipped to take my jokes and there were almost zero communication barriers – except that none of them had cleavages I could talk too.

I knew Fany was into me, because she kept asking me to take pictures and she constantly told me how cute I was. Anna on the other hand, who was a blonde American, started out by pimping Fany to me but somewhere along the line decided to keep me because I was pretty much the most entertaining bona fide English speaking person in the club.

Anna: “You know, you are really a great tease. No one teases me like you do.”
Me: “Yea, but I’m sure that guy over there has a bigger dick.”
Anna: “I love your personality and you are so cute!”
Me: “Seriously, is that pants off or pants on?”

Anna eventually told me that Fany had quite a thing for me and since I largely preferred Asians, I went over to re-introduce myself with a tongue. This was all until I realized they were actually flying back to the States in 6 hours.

This posed a serious miscalculation to my equation for utopia. For one, having to fly off meant that the chance of hitting the sack despite their interest, was like trying to catch a 3 hour movie in an hour; it might work, but it’s pointless.

Mickey and Friends

At some point of time, I got introduced to Micky. She was tall, slim, worked as a part time model and she had hot friends. I told them I was French and I kiss cheeks for introduction. They obliged. I then said,

“As Singaporean-French, I actually do two cheeks and the lips.”

And two of them actually believed me, or perhaps they already had the intention to kiss me. Either way, I am a horrible person.

One of the girls, Elle, was already slightly inebriated when she came. She was pleasantly pretty and quite a tease. She would whisper in my ears, hold my hand even if she was stretching for the drinks and always sit between me and any other girl.

Then we had a group photo shot with the others and she stood in front of me. Next thing I know, I felt her hands rubbing against my crotch. I was ecstatic. She had finally stepped up her game and I wondered if this photo taking was my last itinerary for the club that night. I was excited and ran a gamut of sex positions through my head.

Then I looked down and saw that she was actually just scratching her ass and her knuckles were just accidentally brushing on me.

Like what the fuck! This was the double erection killer. Not only was she not seducing me, but she was scratching her ass. I swear, God must think this is really amusing.

I went off to find the other guys and when I got back, everyone had left the table except for Mickey who was close to the bar, so I took her back for more drinks, and the flirting just blew through the roof. She told me to take a guess on her age, and I of course already knew she was 19 because her friend told me, but I told her that if I got it wrong, she would get a prize.
Naturally like all con artist, I intentionally got it wrong on the first go just to lure them in.

Mickey: “So what’s my pr..”

I interrupted her mid-sentence with a kiss.

Mickey: “Wow, I like the prize.”

Mickey was cool to begin with, but the conversation slowly moved to when I was going to be back in Hong Kong and if I had a girlfriend, and I stupidly said that if she came back with me, that I would seriously date her. Of which, she immediately stood up, pointed her finger at me and yelled.

“You promise?! Give me your address!!”

I was so shocked, I nearly peed my pants because I thought she was going to whip out the marriage papers, circumcise me and use my foreskin as an engagement gift.

Her friend Nina, another fellow model timely interrupted our conversation. She was drunk, heard Mickey recount the proposal to her and immediately turned to me. She said something to me which I of course couldn't hear through the thumbing base because I was seated and she was standing a distance from me.

I reached out my hand to pull her closer to me. She reached out, bowed down to my ear level and before she could even say anything, lost balance and fell face first onto our table and toppled all the glasses onto the floor.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

It didn't matter that she took out an entire table of drinks, broke 3 glasses or bruised her arm slightly. It was hilarious because she got up and acted as if nothing ever happened.

Me: “Wow, now that’s embarrassing.”

The Janes

Some other group of girls dropped by randomly between the start and that whole debacle and while they were just averagely pleasant looking, I did remember one of them, Jane, because she had those Gigi Lai dimples and was pretty cute when she smiled.

Jane not only had a great smile, but she also had a great ass and she was proficient enough in English to understand what I was saying, but not enough to proxy caustic remarks, so I refrained largely from using wit to charm her and relied largely on dancing.

The great thing about Hong Kong is that people can’t really dance. They can sway, tap their feet and follow the beat pretty aptly, but they aren’t as impressive as the people are in Taiwan, who look like they all graduated from dance school. So when someone moves differently from everyone else – read as shuffle- , they get a lot of attention.

She was in a black body hugging dress that screamed availability but had on some cotton granny panty that pronounced conservatism. And on a couple of occasions, she would have her tongue in my orifice and then play coy about the whole matter and I was wondering if my hotel had a nun’s outfit for rent, just so that I can escalate this contradiction.

And I was spoilt for choice, but I made one..

The Schizo Flasher

MoS is great for many things. Occasionally good Trance sets, good selection of cubicles to vomit in, Vodka promotions, an umbrella of varied genre of music and a pickup joint for Ladyboys. As of the last couple of weeks, I am inundated with requests to submit one more line in that list of ‘greats’; meeting crazy chicks.

It all started weeks ago when Atila (formerly known as WL, because of one clubbing incident which have documented on Facebook) picked up this Viet chick and ended up being face fucked by her tits at the sofa. If I hadn’t been standing in front of him, while she pulled down her top and nursed him back to sobriety with her left breast, I would not have believed that decadence roamed the floors so freely.

It did, and I brushed that off as a Blue Moon incident. She was after all, a foreigner, very drunk and tit to face slapping was probably a cultural welcome back where she came from. Now surely, local women would never be this courteous with such a gratuitous flesh parade.

I was wrong.

A year ago, when I gave my lecture on how to differentiate the women from the Ladyboys, I would have told you that anyone who would voluntarily flesh their boobs at you in a club, would have two things; Silicon breast and a surgically constructed vagina. A year on, I stand corrected.

The other week, I headed down to MoS on a mid week. Where most white-collared adults would be coaxed into an early night by nagging work commitments and parental responsibility, I opted for a night of alcohol induced debauchery.

It didn’t matter that we started the night with cheap intoxication at Dbl O, or that I nearly broke a girl’s finger in retaliation to being bitten, because nothing would have highlighted the night more than the incident at MoS and the subsequent supper.

When we wrapped up with Dbl O, Atila threw in the towel for an early night, while the rest of us morons decided that early nights were left for pansy men, and that real men do not surrender when we’ve had at least 7 glasses of vodka in our blood, waiting to stream out our pee-hole. We did the logical thing and headed for the next nearest club. Best decision all night.

When I got there with the guys, the alcohol in me had almost nearly surrendered to sobriety and I allowed myself to retoxicate with a glass of sambuca and then decided I’d be contented to sit out the night without another fill of anything alcoholic.

Sometime later, Reznor dragged some chick back with him to our table. She wasn’t pretty, had a white hair-band round her neck in nostalgic Ah Lian fashion and was visibly drunk. She eventually started dancing in-front of me and I was hardly interested until she took off her tube top.

She wasn’t pretty, but she had quite the body. It now became one C-Cup Chinese girl with a bikini top dancing seductively in-front of me, and she now had my attention. I, of course, being the mischievous instigator, milked this for all that it was worth and attempted to escalate the visual audacity of the whole temporal carnival.

Me: “That’s not enough.”

She eventually flashed her left breast at me and added a quick tweet of her nipples. The guys erupted with approval, but I was not to be done. There was now easily an audience from the peripheral of my group and I was going to satisfy the crowd.

Me: “That, is still not enough.”

It was like a challenge, almost as if I was beating her ego down and denigrating her libertine performance. Since when was flashing your nipple not ever good enough in Singapore? Since when did men become such hard pleases, when it didn’t even come with a tip? It was like driving a bus and doing a hairpin turn at 180km/h. It would either have turned out spectacular or entirely disastrous.

Without backing down and almost as if to win over my reciprocation, she quickly proceeded to untie her bikini top. And she did, only to be stopped from dancing topless by our very emphatic protest of,

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!”

The men at the table next to us must have hated us, but we were still sober enough to not want to be the cause of any ensuing drama between her and the club management (or the police). Xed hurried over to offer his assistance in helping her tie back her bikini top, which I thought was the dumbest move ever made by a male.

For one, when a girl is trying to tie her bikini back on and is yelling “Get away!”, you do not insist on providing assistance. You should NOT even be standing anywhere near her because proximity is always a yardstick in assessing the culprit.

She eventually got it back on and it somehow progressed into her coming along with us for supper. I might have been a culpable cause of that, because I believe that at some point I think I actually said, “Let’s go for supper.”

More drama ensued in the car because she was getting really drunk and Xed was trying to get her phone number and she was yelling a lot, so much so that we actually contemplated leaving her in the car.

It finally erupted over supper, because she was implosive and she got easily irritated by almost anything the guys said. I don’t remember if I actually said anything, but I did glare at her and that was all it took for her to get offended. And this followed in sequence,

1. She crushed the nearest chrysanthemum can and smashed it on the table
2. She got up, kicked the chair to the side
3. Stormed off to 7-11

What did we do? We did the only logical thing any person would do. We broke out into a hearty laugh and I congratulated myself for a job well done.

Niner eventually came by to join us and we briefly recounted what happened. Then 15 mins from her hasty departure into her convenience store refuge, she returned as if NOTHING had ever happened. She was neither pissed nor seemed to remember any trace of animosity.

5 mins later, I don’t know what Niner said to her, but I think it should have something to do with checking her mental health status, because she took the mineral bottle and splashed it at him and said something about,

“You don’t own this water loh, and this is not your house.”

It proved that even with huge tits, when you are drunk, you still say stupid things. Then the following happened,

1. She crushed the mineral bottle and smashed it on the table
2. She got up, kicked the chair to the back
3. Stormed off to 7-11
4. Stopped only to shout, “You fucking bastard!”

And I don’t know why people say the same joke isn’t funny twice, because we laughed our ass off again and Niner congratulated himself for chasing her off, only to be informed that this was actually an encore performance. And only an hour ago, she was well gamed to take five cocks at a go.

Then 10 mins later, she returned again as if NOTHING had ever happened. She was all cordial again, was frowning a lot less and polite in her speech. We didn’t need any more drama for the night so we pointed her in the direction of the nearest ATM so that she would leave us alone. Reznor was convinced she was schizophrenic, but if that’s a nice word for ‘crazy’, then I’ll have to nod to that.

If that’s how much drama I have to take as a consequence of a boob flash, then sign me up for theatre studies, because drama just became my favourite reality program.

Facebook

Before I proceed with the next post..

I've decided to create a Facebook account (because I believe all cool people should be on Facebook) and I'll post seperate stories and updates there. ONLY if you have me on it. Yes, honey, add to read. You can search for me through this email,

thebutterflytales@hotmail.com

Don't even bother finding Butterfly, Facebook doesn't acknowledge such a name. My condolences go out to people in native tribes who have names like Yellow Sparrow or Leopard Paw.. they will never get to enjoy Facebook. EVER.

If you have me on MSN, then I've most probably already added you. If not, then just add me in.

And just cos I spent the last 40mins trying to set up the account, it doesn't mean I forgot my writing duties.

It will come... soon..

The Dating Dictionary

When men created the human language, relationships no longer became just a carnal intercourse supplemented by grunts, but it evolved into a whole new complex and equally bothersome concept that involved talking and understanding your partner.

Centuries on, Communism has fallen, China is still drowning babies, mankind has landed on Mars, you can fly to Bangkok for under $200, but men and women still do not understand each other. We only have ourselves to blame.

For since the time of Da Vinci, codes have given mankind an equivocal tongue and this cursed language is one that is exclusive to genders. Where the military have fought wars on Morse codes and Revelation hunters have turned to the Bible codes for insights to the future, men and women alike are throwing out relationship specific terms that confuse the enemy, or in this case, their partners.

Attached men use an arsenal of terms as a ruse to blindside their actual intentions from women. This is largely because women aren’t as cool as they used to be when they are in a relationship, and will jump at any chance to kick up a fuss. And women are coughing out ambiguity to play men back at their games.

Here's a run down of terms I've thrown up in the two Life Cycle posts. This would be the glossary as opposed for an intended epilogue to the Life Cycle posts, because I'm just plain lazy and uninspired. You might have heard this, but do you REALLY know what they mean?

Boy’s Night Out : [event]

[misconception] : A night with the guys. A time for old buddies to catch up over beer and pork knuckles. No girlfriends allowed, strictly for men.

[actual] : A night out with the guys. No girlfriends can come along, but it is ok for other girls to join in. The guys will catch up over beer, while checking out other women in the club.

This is a staple term in a guy’s relationship life cycle, often introduced at the Maturity Stage (read Male Life Cycle Post). As the relationship charges towards the Demise Stage, there will be an exponential increase in frequency of usage, until they entirely do not even bother informing you.

‘Boy’s Night Out’ is often a form of catharsis from a social repression, in this case, a relationship. Men use this when they want to get out and enjoy a night without the women nagging. This is perhaps the one time they can leave their empty mug on the table and not get yelled at. Men also might take this opportunity to go out and squeeze other women’s tits.

Girl’s Night Out : [event]

[misconception] : A night out with her girlfriends. A time to catch up with each other. No men allowed, unless he’s gay.

[actual] : A night out with the girls. A time for them to unwind and complain about their boyfriends, or gossip about that hot new colleague with the great ass. No boyfriends allowed, unless he is just coming to pick you up for home.

'Girl’s Night Outs' aren’t really as corrosive to the relationship as compared to the male equivalent event. For one, girls don’t need to make up an excuse of hanging out with the girls, just so that they can cheat behind their boyfriend’s back. No, seasoned women will do this when the men are having a 'Boy’s Night Out', or just simply not in the country.

A Break : [event]

Structural conversational usage as such, “Let’s take a break”

[misconception] : On a non-committal separation period. Both parties are allowed to head out and re-invent their lives.

[actual] : We learnt this from Ross and Rachel. You are both not talking to each other for X amount of time, but not allowed to fuck anyone else.

Girls use this because they want to reassess the relationship and need a break from all the bullshit being thrown at her by the guy.

Guys use this because he is pissed with all the bullshit being thrown at him and he really just wants to fuck someone else for the time being.

My Space : [verb]

Not to be confused with the social networking tool.

[misconception] : Couples tend to believe that being in a relationship equates to sharing their lives entirely. Idiots they are.

[actual] : Relationships are concentric circles with realms of individual spaces and personal time alone.

When people get stuffed in a relationship, they will say things like, ‘I can’t breathe’ or ‘I need space’ and you sometimes wonder if they are going into epileptic shock. ‘Breathe’? Like, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were scuba diving.

When a party uses the words, ‘my space’, you know that it is time to back off from that marriage plans or having a joint savings account. It is not uncommon to find relationships suffocating your social life, because that’s what relationships do, besides regular sex and arguments.

Nothing : [noun]

The single most irritating and baffling word a women has in her vocabulary.

[misconception] : Everything is ok.

[actual] : Everything is wrong. Everything the guy does will also be wrong from here on out, until she says what is pissing her off, which will take a lot of coaxing from the guy before she will eventually reveal.

Women in relationships are weird. Not only because they expect a lot more from men, but also because they do not know what they really want. They will tell you nothing is wrong and expect you to be Tarot reading gypsy and know exactly the root of the problem.

If you haven’t already realized, men don’t read minds. We read maps, soccer odds and Playboy magazine, not minds. Like how fucking often do find male on the psychic hotline. On the contrary, I love it when women tell me ‘nothing’ when I ask if anything is wrong, because I will take her word for it and not give a damn. It pisses them off and I generally do not get to fuck them again.

Relationships are a tedious journey for a perceived utopia. It's laced with coded texts, deception, mis-interpretation and fake orgasms, yet the foolish venture forth. I hope I broke up some relationships with these posts. You should thank me for it.

The Relationship Life Cycle - Female

The Life cycle of relationships is more of a tangent compliment to the whole dynamics of the great gender divide, than it is to pronounce the differences that we already know. Men can pee standing, women cannot or risk ruining their Blahniks. Women nag, while men grumble. Women have multiple orgasm, while men achieve this through multiple sex partners.

Women go through the cycle of love with a varying difference of success, stagnation and demise, because like men, they are horrible people. I know this, because I’ve been with a fair share of women to know that false advertising is an arsenal they readily deploy.

The Courting Stage

This is the stage where years of using push-up bras or Brazilian waxing pays off. In simplicity, this is the one phase where women have the clear edge over men. Being Asian and having a vagina means that women are fed false propaganda that they need to do less than men.

1. High Independence

Women start out in the relationship more dependent than when they end it. At this stage they will introduce several terms to men, such as ‘going dutch’ or ‘I’ll meet you there’. Though, men at this stage do not comprehend such terms, because they believe in things such as chivalry and giving a good impression, they will be impressed with women who suggest these.

A women’s independence is something men brag about to their friends because men feel good when they know they are not being made use of.

Women might occasionally offer to pay for their own movie or meal and will suggest taking a cab home themselves when it’s late or if their date doesn’t drive. This impresses men to no end and they will insist on sending them home anyway.

2. High Tolerance

Women have the best tempers at this stage. You will never hear them nag at you or throw a fit over a chipped nail. You can be late for your date and they will never yell at you for making her wait for 10 mins. They will always respond with a cordial civility that goes along the line of, ‘it’s okay. I didn’t wait long’.

They will also not complain about you smoking or wanting to have more tattoos and will generally not take extreme stances on matters too out-rightly, so much so that you believe this woman is actually easy to get along with.

Even if they get mad at you, it will take no more than a simple apology or a joke to get her smiling again. They will also never tell you stuff like, ‘nothing’ or ‘I’m fine’ but still be grouchy all day.

3. Makeup

At this stage where women need to market themselves, makeup is their best friend. It is a known fact that women usually look their best when they are single. Even if it’s a trip to the neighbourhood mall, they will generally never want her date to see her eye-browless or stripped entirely bare of cosmetics.

This is the one stage women will doll up for the slightest reason, because even if they might not be out to impress their dates, you can never discount the chance of meeting random hot men while they’re out.

4. Waiting

Men will need to wait for women the least amount of time at this stage. If the woman is never punctual to begin with, this is never going to improve through the next three cycles. Women will generally be on time and will not make you wait hours while they powder their noses in the toilet, lest the man’s interest turns to contempt.

5. Low Stupidity

Women are smartest at this stage. They will know how to safe-guard themselves from physical and emotion penetration and will have several proxies set up to ensure they keep the advantage on their court.

Examples of these might include, malleable guidelines on ‘no sex on the first date’, 'not spending lavishly on men’ and ‘no amateur porn videos’. They will also know how to palaver you with stories that will show them in a favourable light and leave out details like being a manic depressive or a potential penis cleaver.

The Honeymoon Stage

Once the woman has ascertained that the guy isn’t a child murderer and safe to commit a relationship with, she will start removing her barriers and surrender to the whole notion of ‘Love’. And we all know that while being in love is great, it also makes you stupid.

1. Low Independence

Suddenly, women at this phase of the relationship lose all ability to stand on their own. They will no longer know how to make their way to meet you on their own. Thankfully, at this stage, their amnesia is well compensated for by men’s over-zealous voluntary desire to chauffer them.

Women at this stage no longer need to do anything themselves and ‘going dutch’ is a derogatory term bent to challenge their guy’s love for them. In addition, this is the introductory stage where some women will experience the following,

Inability to peel prawns, the need for men to carry their bags and inability to order their own food at a hawker centre.

Men on the other hand will enjoy random surprise presents, blowjob and sex, usually in that order for their efforts.

2. High Tolerance

Being in love exponentially increases a person’s threshold for bullshit absorption. Being in the honeymoon phase effectively means that all disagreements or arguments last for 10 minutes tops and will end with one party being apologetic. At this stage, women are most likely to give in to men even if they are not in the wrong.

3. High Stupidity

This is the one stage women have the highest propensity to commit to moronic acts, which they will regret in time to come. While it is okay for couples to share many things like, a meal, toothbrush, secrets or siblings, there are things which should never be shared even if you are lullabyed into that false sense of security. Namely, passwords.

Women (and men) alike think that it is perfectly okay to let their partners know passwords into their Facebook, MSN or Friendster accounts. Two words.

Big.Mistake.

4. Easy To Please

At this stage, it takes the man minimal effort to please the woman. This is the one stage where the woman is contented to just spending time together. She will agree to watch soccer with you, sit next to you while you play World of Warcraft or any other stupid things women in love would renounce their own personal time for.

It is common for women to punctuate every other sentence with, “that is so sweet”, whenever the man does something nice for her. They will gush over simple trivialities and swoon to their friends about how wonderful their man is for folding an origami crane or surprising her with an afternoon picnic by the park, even if it’s under the sweltering sun.

The Maturity Stage

1. Moderate Independence

As time pass and men no longer have the vested interest to drive half way round the island to pick them, they will start remembering how to commute by public transport. This does not mean that they will not let you know how unhappy they are at the arrangement. It is common for women to complain prior to having to travel by herself and then show up for the appointment late and looking grumpy.

She will also then start blaming the inefficiencies of buses or the expensive taxi fare and then proceed to bitch incessantly about the hot sun, just till you get the hint that this will be the last time she is ever going to do this.

They will also introduce new terms to the man such as, ‘Girl’s night out’ and ‘breathing space’. Women will now no longer be willing to spend their entire weekend in abeyance and sit quietly by your side, while you button mash your X-Box 360. They will now start to say things like, ‘I’ve got better things to do with my time’.

2. Moderately Low Tolerance

Women become ticking time bombs at this stage. They get pissed off a lot easier and it takes a lot more just to pacify them. Silly jokes and funny faces no longer commands a smile like it used to, but instead women will tell you to not be childish and stop irritating them.

At this stage, women will also start to nag a lot. This is a common phase in a woman’s life to train her for motherhood. Nagging is a woman’s rite of passage and they are entitled to do it, because this disease comes with having a vagina.

Women will get pissed with you, even if you are not doing anything and will tell you vague stuff like, ‘can you do something’ or other stuff that just serves to further confuse men, just so that they get to nag at them more.

They will litter their sentences with, 'nothing' or 'fine' every time they are unhappy with you and expect you to know what they want. Leaving her alone is wrong and trying to pacify her sometimes gets to her nerves, because women don't know what they want. It is not easy having a penis at this stage.

3. High Stupidity

The maturity stage is sometimes also a bane to women because they become normalized to a certain way of life that they cannot fathom a life without it. In short, they are sometimes in the relationship because of companionship more than anything else.

As such, they sometimes become a sponge for bullshit and take all the crap that men throw at them. They do not know when to leave the relationship and allow men to dictate their lives. Being in a relationship makes a person stupid.

4. Moderate Trust

Women will start to check the guy’s phone messages and Facebook accounts at this stage. It is no longer enough for the man to say, “I’m going out with my friends”, but will now be required to give a detailed report of their friend’s full name, where they are going, what they intend to do, what time he is going to be home and if he can buy her that Prada pouch while he’s out.

It is common for women to have the loom of paranoia showering them periodically and will go ballistic when a man says he is going home and still not be home 2 hours later. They will also sometimes think men are lying to them when we say we can’t meet them because we need to work.

5. Makeup

Women at this stage will start wearing less makeup. They will also generally tend to be less image conscious and have the highest propensity to gain weight. All this because they believe foolishly that her man loves her for who she is.

6. Hard To Please

It no longer takes a surprise gift to make them beam with delight unless they come with words like, Gucci or Hermes. A frown from her now will last a good amount of time and everything you do or say in that period is wrong. Not doing anything to pacify her is also wrong and causes the frown to be extended.

Women now have quixotic fantasies beyond the realm of men’s capabilities, and we no longer measure up to it. We have Hollywood romance flicks to thank for a good percentage domestic squabbles. Women will now start to pronounce their displeasure with ‘You’ve changed’ followed by the disguised female conjunctive of, ‘last time you not like that one’.

A short history recap of their honeymoon period will follow.

The Demise Stage

1. High Independence

Women no longer need men to be around for them. In fact, the lesser time they have together is largely preferred. They will start making their own activities which involves systematically excluding the man. They will also suddenly have an explosion of new male friends, who will share your chauffeuring duties.

Men can forget about women buying random surprise gifts for them at this stage and all gifts are restricted to Valentine's day and Birthdays. Occassionally, she will buy you a shaver, because kissing you is still part of her duty.

2. No Tolerance

Women at this stage will not entertain bullshit. They are a querulous vessel that will snap at anything. Everything you say or do will irk her and you start to wonder if it is actually humanly possible to be grouchy every day of the month. Women will take hours to prepare before leaving the house and men are not even allowed to complain.

If you made her wait for even 5 minutes, you better have a valid reason like having to bury your dog or you got hit by a van, or she will rain a torrent flood of wrath on you and will stop only because her vocal chords have torn. They will always ask, "Do you know how long you made me wait?!". This is a rhetorical question you should never answer, because nothing you say matters anyway.

They will nag at you for no reason at all because that is now the only tone she will adopt when conversing with you.

3. Zero Trust

Everything the man says is a lie and must be taken with extreme caution and a bottle full of skepticism. At this stage, the woman believes that any activity her man has without her, is with another woman. They also think that ‘work’ is an excuse man use just so that he can have fun without her.

4. Impossible To Please

Nothing you do is ever going to be good enough. Randomly buying flowers or planning a surprise picnic is not good enough. Roses are now impractical pleasantries that are a waste of money and they will vociferously remind you that having lunch under the hot afternoon sun is a dumb idea.

You might remind them that they used to like picnics or flowers and they will remind you that last time, policemen wore short pants. Suddenly, you realize that change is the only constant and that the woman you have before you is no longer that easy going girl next door you fell in love with.

Welcome to reality, that’s false advertising for you.