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married life

The man, understood as a male, is a really simple behaviors, in his manner of thinking, as a way of life. For a man, the things that matter are 4: the pussy, football, food, and again pussy. For women, it is known, it is not. But what is the problem? She lives a life much more difficult to man, because it must be to fight daily with her hormonal cycles. For many members of the female hormonal cycles these last days, others are so sudden to see the facial expression change continuously in a loop: happy, sad, so so sad, happy, sad, so so, excited, sad , happy, excited.
For a man with a woman like interface is very difficult, but think about two women who have hormonal cycles similar and so fast: they can never communicate peacefully and this explains why many women prefer to be with us, or because the relationships between them based on falsehoods.
The weapon of women is what I call "we-ok-well-no". For a man does not mean anything, but a woman has a very important meaning: "Look what you made me, bastard." Of course, you do not know what it refers to, and they know it well, but even more because you blame YOU SHOULD KNOW!!
The man, in cases like this, must continue to ask "what have you done?" to the bitter end and the woman must continue to say "no!". This is a sign that the woman has put her man
. The correct behavior of man, in my opinion, should be one of the following:

"nothing", "ok! go to a movie"
"nothing", "Thank God, Didst thou appear angry. I go out, see you later."
"nothing", "All right, go to hell"

Unfortunately it would take a book to learn how to handle certain situations and yet no one has ever written. Perhaps, I could be the first, who knows.
Tactics "is-ok-well-no" is an integral part of hormonal cycles and is related to the state of mind "offense", which captures all the sudden changes in facial. In fact, the expression becomes like this: eyebrows lowered, eyes fixed and elusive, arched mouth, hair messed up, to live free. The shame that is causing so much offense can be a serious look at another girl, her voice a little Scazzi, a sigh too much, the memory of bad behavior had fourteen years earlier.
The last point deserves a chapter of the book separately. The chronic shame. I came to the conclusion that the hormonal cycles have a historical memory and are of different kinds. Some hormonal cycles carry the memories of the former and the resulting depression for choosing the wrong man, others carry the memory of a special event. The worst are those that bring all this together. One of those situations where you're all reproach reproached and cursed is the day that you were chosen you and not the other. And in the end you, helpless, you think "but I I just said hello ......".
You man you're reading, how many times have you found yourself having to fight with the hormonal cycles of your partner (or one of your companions?)? And you, woman , reader, how many times have you found to have the strange desire to see your partner died because he dared to, and should not, make a joke about your hair?
For this, I understand people who choose to stay with the men, but I can not understand women who choose to be with women: that is, the hormonal cycles we have them too, but as you thinking you want to be with another? That is, it's as if I were a trigger-happy, I would never want to be with another that likes to shoot his gun on another person!

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Close Encounter of the 3rd kind with the other side .....

I'm on the subway and I'm going on my own and, as every time that I have a book, I look around a bit. I love watching people, trying to see what they read, what shoes they have. I mean, how can I entertain in one of the most useless of the day.
Suddenly I see someone on the other side of the truck, staring at me insistently. The first thought is "Fuck you?". I turn, I pretend to feel nothing but his gaze on me and it gives me very, very annoying. What I find even a little educated, and so the disk with the gaze incacchiato and he continues to stare at me. The make a gesture with his head as if to say "you?". He stares at me.
He was not just a skinny boy, well dressed, at least in their thirties. I turn, I look around, look around, I make vague. Still looking at me, I'm a bastard. I watch it again even more pissed off, I try to strike him. Train all the energy of my body over his eyes, convinced potergli launch lightning from his eyes, but nothing. I committed there, trying to incinerate, use all my energies superhero but nothing. She stares at me.
In my head begins to turn the question "but what does he want here? Why am I fixing? Maybe I know him?". Doubt, when someone looks at me is that I can know, because if I meet her on the street, I could not even recognize my mother. Memory zero. Indeed, if I met you somewhere and I have not welcomed, do not think I'm a bastard. Although I looked at you, probably I have not even seen.
And so, I try to think if this matter seems to me known, if I had met him somewhere, but I do not remember it, do not remember. Damn, still staring at me, I can not do, is giving me a nuisance crazy and I do not know where to look. I support his gaze, still grimacing and threatening movements with his eyebrows? Start staring at your shoes? I look out the window, despite the fact that we're underground? I pretend that I fell asleep on the pole? I
also some anxiety is rising, this will be a murderess? That goes looking for?
Maybe it's better that I try to use my other power, as the lightning from his eyes does not work. So, I try to make myself invisible, but again the results are not very happy.
While I am committed more and more to disappear, my concentration is interrupted: it was moved and is moving. With a mixture of pace and a sparrow from the jaguar moves towards 9 kilos me. Start thinking about how to reject it if he tries to hit me. If he pulls out a knife to steal the chain, I might try to kick him on the balls. I have to be ready, because it is close. I am also planning to strike first, without giving him even a chance to speak and I'm almost convinced me to do when he stops in front of me. "Hello. Where are you going to?". Shit, is trying to tow, can not believe it. Inside my head explode a thousand thoughts. I begin to wonder how he did not understand the looks angry, threatening movements of the eyebrows and partners of the head. You are completely stupid, you can not read body language. In a second, then flashed through my mind in another strange truth: "I looked like the fag." Good grief, but of what I Recchione? They are graceful as an elephant, I look at all women's asses that I pass within five miles. How do you regard me as the other side? I take a cold sweat, I'm not going to look like Mary forever! My manhood is not to be doubted, never!! EVER! Then, I'll explain it with "oh well, at the end hath been thrown out and which has the proven ... a bit blind." The
keep repeating "I'm going by my girlfriend," which I hope the sentence received as "I'm straight, I have nothing against you, but always stay straight." A little sorry not to be homosexual because in the end I was too nice, But just was not my type. Here comes my stop, I greet him, the smile and get down ...... then began to run and run!
I have nothing against homosexuals, even if I turn on TV when two men kiss. But I think that everyone is free to do what he wants with his life, with his body, with his own c. ......... In short, I give a damn to me? But what I do not understand is why I need your fix?

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