men are from mars, women like penis*

biggest problem i have in sensual relationships is when a sobbing young lady spills her guts to me describing her problems

i give advice.

i’ll give you advice even if you arent crying.

hell, i give advice on here to people who arent even seeking advice.

bottom line: im garbage and should probably be avoided.

but some have been unable to avoid my charms and end up in a romantic relationship with me and are bombarded with

if i was you i woulda said this or

you shoulda done that

or have you tried this technique

or in my day we woulda just done it thisaway.

amber gets so upset when she is trying to confide in me she has thrown phones, books, and even a tire at me out of frustration.

a long time ago Etienne would say “stop bossing me, busblog” and i didnt fully grasp what her problem was with me but now it is clearer. im terrible.

if you tell me it hurts when i do this

im gonna say stop doing that.

when all they wanted was someone to listen. but i am not a listener. im a fixer. im michael cohen minus the secret recording devices. i am a problem solving machine. i enjoy fixing. i do not enjoy listening and keeping my mouth shut.

my innards do not work that way. my brain says “this girl you love is in pain, give her the pain relief no matter what it is. be the hero. use your love gun. put a bandaid on the problem. BEGIN THE BEGUINE.”

but i am told in more ways than one that a beguine is not being ordered. two ears two eyes and no mouth is whats being ordered. back rubs are being ordered. walks on the beach are being requested. scalp scratches. butterfly kisses. viewings of Blackish. uh huhs and oh nos.

but i am not that robot. i have two turn tables and a microphone. if anything its a maxiphone.

im gonna die alone.