Dear Captain Obvious: I have a sneaking suspicion that I had blackout sex while on a business trip with a beautiful colleague in Tokyo. Inexplicably this happens to me every couple of years and is always triggered by a potent mix of opportunistic women and excessive drinking which, in the past, has led to not only the regrettable reward of waking up feeling like a freight train running through the middle of my skull but also the shocking news that I’ve either gotten married or impregnated some woman I don’t recall ever sleeping with. You’d think that this predisposition would make me leery of drinking heavily around very attractive members of the opposite sex, but I can’t help being stupid, it’s a result of years of systematic henpecking from my very controlling wife who lives to strip me of my manhood at every turn. Now I’m faced with being eaten alive from keeping this a secret or telling my wife *shudder*. Which path to inevitable destruction do I choose? Sake Bombed.
Dear Bombed: Normally I would point you to the road most travelled by everyone in this town: Admit guilt but insist it only happened one time and will never happen again, but we both know that won’t work in a third offense so the obvious choice here would be to DENY, DENY, DENY as you slip slowly into a endless loop of paranoia where you constantly worry about keeping a lid on your most recent transgression. Might I also encourage you to try to see the silver lining in having a castrating wife leave you? Unless of course you actually want to be with a such a woman in which case I would encourage a really good psychiatrist.
Dear Captain Obvious: I’m drawn to the kind of women that tend to destroy lives with lies and sickening emotional blackmail. It’s sexy as hell when a woman knows what she wants and just how to get it! My married girlfriend, however, doesn’t agree and likes to pretend that running interference in my love life is merely an act of concern and care. She practically gave me a dossier on my date’s past and present acts of villainy and you know what? It only made me hornier! I’ve tried twice already to tell my friend this ain’t no love thang and I’m only in it for some cheap thrills but like a rabid dog to a bone she refuses to let it go! Any suggestions on how I can chase some tail in peace? Annoyed.
Dear Annoyed: Sorry pal. From the way you describe your friend it sounds like you won’t ever be awarded the opportunity to exercise your right to be a grown man unless you’re willing to return the favor by sinking to her level. The next time she fires up her broken record quickly ask her if she enjoyed making love to her husband last night. Follow that up with other cringe worthy question, such as inquiring if extreme flatulence is ever an issue in her relationship or something equally gross and inappropriate. Eventually things will start to get awkward and she’ll either stop sticking her beak into your affairs or stop being your friend altogether. Either way you win.
Dear Captain Obvious: I’m a broken man-child whose idea of a successful relationship involve crippling addictions, soul-shaking betrayal and a hollowed out existence peppered generously with secrets and lies. My ex-wife, whom I work for, seems to have softened towards me a little and it was all the validation I’ve been groveling for for over a year! If you’ve met my wife you’d know this was not an easy feat; she’s ridged, fretful and prone to self-doubt. I want to pursue this further to see if I can possibly rekindle the blackened ashes of our long dormant love but don’t want to scare her off (she scares easily). What would be a good way to snake my way around her heart and back into her bed? Comeback Kid.
Dear Kid: Since you seem to have a somewhat tolerable existence at work why not request a similar arrangement on the personal side? Offer to “work” for her in the bedroom. Increase the appeal of your proposal by putting a PowerPoint presentation together demonstrating all the ways you could add value by way of newly acquired skills, knowledge and expertise. Remember that this won’t be your first time at the rodeo so be prepared to dazzle her with something she’s never seen before, like your newfound ability to resist f*cking shit up when things are good.
Dear Captain Obvious: I’ve encased myself in a thick outer layer of exceedingly bad temper ever since the day I found out my now ex-wife and brother had the audacity to have an affair right under my nose for months. The thing is, no one in my tight circle of family and friends will allow me to reach my full potential as a bitter curmudgeon who likes to paint the town black with his ill-will and foul mood. It’s incredibly unfair, especially when I think about all the time and effort I put in each day being the perfect portrait of misery. Short of wearing a sign titled “F*ck Off!” around by neck what does a guy have to do around here to be left alone to rust from the inside out with resentment? Mad Man.
Dear Mad: Have you tried fleeing to a remote island? It’s very easy to be left alone on one of those. As a matter of fact if you choose wisely you can practically guarantee a long career of being wretchedly unhappy before dying of natural assholsim. Good luck on your quest!
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