Ladies and gentlemen (and I use that term loosely and with heartfelt consideration for those who identify as any of the 31 possible genders recognized by New York City – which means I just insulted all of your levels of etiquette but respected all of your chosen lifestyles), I have unfortunate news:
There will not be a blog today.
I am sorry, but it would be unfair to my wife, whose birthday was last month on a Saturday, if I posted a blog dedicated to my girlfriend on her birthday, which happens to land on a Friday (today to be even more precise in a long-winded manner) which is my consistent blogging day. A polyamorous family is a delicate balance and if I blogged today I am sure my wife would be disappointed that she did not receive the same treatment. Perhaps I could argue that since I had a huge party last year for my wife on her 40th birthday – renting out a theater and performing a self-written play outlining her life so far – and did not have an equal party for my girlfriend’s 40th birthday, but women seem to forget such details when feeling emotionally betrayed by imagined slights.
So I reiterate; there will be no blog today.
Look, I am as disappointed as all of you. I could have written 1,000 words on those 31 different gender identities found in New York City’s legal code. You would have laughed as I described my mother-in-law’s face when my 14-year-old nephew tried to explain to her that he knew of 13 of those genders off the top of his head. It looked like a crucifix was going to shoot out of her mouth, pin the teenager and me to the wall, so she could throw holy water on us while reciting Leviticus chapters. Or I could have talked about a woman I met and with whom I flirted (of course) who claimed she and her husband were poly. But when I asked how their relationship dynamics worked with a third person in the bedroom she listed so many restrictions that my only thought was, “What kind of pathetic, desperate for sex, individual would be willing to only give her oral sex while the husband watched his every move?” But would that topic be appropriate to post on my girlfriend’s birthday?
Therefore, there will be no blog today.
And believe me, you would not want one of those typical, “Oh my god I love her so much because she is such a great mom and girlfriend blah blah blah,” blog posts. Are those not the most annoying posts and blogs and messages to wade through? I am always thinking to myself, “Well if Joe Schmoe over there is the best husband ever, guess my wife settled for crap,” or, “You were complaining about how she annoyed you with drama over forgetting to clean out a gutter, and today she is amazing? I’m not buying it, lying brother-in-law!” And while I certainly could give many accolades to my girlfriend for being an awesome person, I would be sorely tempted to give non-traditional compliments like, “Fuck you and your dirty pirate mouth, you sexy piece of ass.” Many of you would think I was insulting her or being rude, even though that’s just how we talk to each other, and I do not want to have to explain a billion times how saying “fuck you” is equivalent to saying, “I love you and your smart-ass mouth.”
In light of this, there will be no blog today.
If I did give in and start complimenting her, my filter (what little of it I have) would probably let through very embarrassing and/or inappropriate information about my beloved. If I brought up her birthday, I would be tempted to bring up the fact that tomorrow is also the anniversary of the first time we made love… which happened a couple of hours after I threw her on the bed and took her like a crazed animal after not seeing her for twenty odd years. This would, of course, lead me to reminiscing about the head-banging incident, the futon incident, or the truck driving voyeur and she would not want any of those stories discussed on a blog in any amount of detail, especially not on her birthday.
Why are you still reading this? There is no blog today!
I would be tempted to ruin her birthday present surprise and describe how difficult it is to make a latex copy of your own penis. I would make a list of all the women who are on the “No You Cannot Sleep With Them” list, and all the women who are not. I would describe my favorite tacos. I would put up a video of my lip syncing “It’s Friday I’m in Love” while I danced in a thong that I borrowed from my perverted neighbor. I would cry about how I love her with all my heart. I would laugh about how she teases me about a girl I liked back in high school. I would pull out some of her poetry and post it. I would post that very erotic picture of her I found the other day on a disc I had completely forgotten about.
But there is no blog today.
Happy Birthday Cheri, my beloved… and probably my executioner after you read this.