Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Are You Pussy-Whipped? A Test

Since posting my "Relationship Readiness Test" in April, which at that time, I failed like a fat kid fails gym class, I've somehow managed to go and get myself into a brand-spanking new relationship. Now, instead of picking which bar to score drugs at, I find myself picking which brand of mango sorbet to pick up for movie night. I'm not really complaining because I still pick bars to find drugs at, just not as often. Oh and the constant sex is better than the inconsistent sex I got when I was single. We can all agree on that perk of relationshiphood.

Even with the sudden influx of intercourse, I can see the single, breezy, carefree Jack that we all used to know and love...changing. I feel like there needs to be a barometer for relationship newbies like myself. Something to let them know when they've officially slipped, and maybe, just maybe, this barometer can help keep people away from the dank abyss that is Sunday trips to Home Depot and Thursday nights spent watching Sandra Bullock/Ryan Reynolds romantic comedies (which was actually a lovely little film).

See, I'm already slipping...

At what point does a relationship change people into gelatinous, weak shells of them former selves? At what point can you officially point at your friend and say, "You're a pussy-whipped little bitch....Now get me a beer Nancy." ?

I've devised an easy test to help you determine which state of whipitude you currently reside in:


The Jack Goes Forth "Are You Pussy-Whipped?" Test:


1.) It's Thursday night at 7:00 PM and your best buddy calls and asks you to meet him for a few pops. You promised your woman you would be home by 8 because she's making dinner. You:

a.) Are confused. Best buddy?? What is this? College? Isn't my best buddy supposed to be my girlfriend?
b.) Tell your buddy, "Thanks but no thanks. The missus gets a lil testy when I'm late. Maybe next week?"
c.) Call your woman and tell her you're going to be 15 minutes late. Meet your friend, have two beers.
d.) Your relationship ends sometime around the 8th beer. It officially ends three days later when you finally get back from Atlantic City.



2.) Your girlfriend mentions that she is meeting her ex-boyfriend for an innocent lunch, just to catch up. You?

a.) Go into the bathroom and sob silently, eventually coming out and through tears, make her "promise to never cheat on me! I love you so much! Pleeeeaaassse promise!"
b.) Say that's fine and then say nothing else.
c.) Say okay but then casually mention that you ran into one of your exes and figured this gives you an excuse to meet her for a quick drink, ya know, "just to catch up".
d.) Show her the Polaroids from you fingering that girl at your brother's bachelor party last weekend.



3.) You and your girl haven't had sex in two weeks. She keeps giving excuses and tonight it's another "headache". You?

a.) Say, "It's okay. Sex isn't that important to me...You are."
b.) Say nothing and silently resent her.
c.) Say, "I'll get the fucking Advil, you spread em."
d.) Say nothing. After only two days of no-sex you dropped her like a bad habit.



4.) Her cousin is getting married in Bumfuck, Utah and she's insisting you take off work and spend a ton of money to attend a wedding for people you've never met. You:

a.) Cancel all meetings and withdraw two thousand dollars from savings for the trip. After all, money is supposed to be spent on your loved one, right?
b.) Say, "I'll go, but either you or your jerkbag Dad is paying."
c.) Say, "Not gonna happen sweetcheeks, now spread em for even suggesting such a foolish venture."
d.) Mail homemade packages containing explosives to her cousin, her dad, her mom, her brother, her pets and all of her friends. A complete genocide of everyone closest to her is the only way to ensure your absence from any future weddings, bar mitzvahs, family reunions, etc...



5.) It's Superbowl Sunday. Your team is in it and they're about to kick off. You are ensconced on the couch with six different Dorito flavors, and what can only be described as a veritable cornucopia of meats and cheeses. She tells you that she really needs your help moving some stuff around the house before her Mom gets there the next day, and that right now is the only time you have to do it. You:

a.) Turn the TV off and get up to help. Relationships are all about sacrifice.
b.) Keep the TV on and dash back to check on the game every 5 minutes or so.
c.) Laugh in her face. "Baby!!! It's my Cowboys in the Superbowl! Get serious. "
d.) Beat her about the face and neck with the remote controller. You then chase her out into the yard, winging full, unopened cans of Milwaukee's Best at her head.





Results:

You answered with mostly "d's" : Congratulations, not only are you not pussy-whipped, you could be in a federal prison. The crime? Five counts of Badassery. You are a bastion to men everywhere. A shining example of strength and virility. Other men cower in your presence. You probably have a huge, Poseidon-like beard. Your testosterone smells of fine Italian leather. I have only one thing to say to you: "Please don't kill me sir."


You answered with mostly "c's": You're certainly not whipped, but you are sometimes scared to upset your girl. You keep your girl in check with subtle, somewhat insulting comments. Never quite pushing the envelope too far with her. You are a man that is to be respected and you probably are in mid-management somewhere with at least 3-4 people underneath you. Someday you may be in the rarefied air of the alpha dog above you.


You answered with mostly "b's": You have never been in a fight with another human being. You sometimes raise your voice but mostly you are shot back down by your domineering woman. You played golf in high school. You will definitely get married by 27. You're wife will cheat on you at least once.


You answered with mostly "a's". I'm in shock that you're even alive. You shuffle around, head hung low, never making eye contact with anyone. The relationship you're in now is the first and only girl you will ever sleep with...that is, if you have actually slept with her yet. You're brow-beaten by your girlfriend, your boss, your peers, your mom, the drive thru guy at Wendy's, your pets, and most hobos you walk past on the street. Consider suicide by pills, as you don't weigh enough for the rope to snap your neck.