Home stories Fuck It, Get Drunk! And Zebra Sex.

Fuck It, Get Drunk! And Zebra Sex.

written by M.E. Evans January 11, 2013

My friend Chule (nclick-kool-ay), a badass South African told me to read a book titled, The 5 Love Languages. I was obviously scared, because “love” and “self help” generally mean “sappy” and “uncomfortable,” however I acquiesced because Chule is wise and she insisted, plus she’s strong and intimidating. It took me two days to finish the book on my super awesome Kindle (every lazy person should have one of these things) and I have to admit that the book had interesting points.

The main point is that everyone feels and expresses love differently. While one partner might express love with gifts, the other partner might only feel love that is expressed by quality communication. The author claims that there are five main “love languages” and that if you learn your partners “love language” you can greatly improve or even save a failing marriage (and worst case you can stab them). I can definitely say that I’ve noticed that everyone in my life has a very different way of showing love. My mom is a “gift giver” for example. She waits the entire year to show everyone how much she loves them on Christmas. Love=Christmas gifts. She won’t call you, she won’t write you, and she isn’t big on quality time. However, come Santa day she’s showering everyone with love. It’s her favorite thing in the entire world and she shops for months in preparation, puts herself into heavy debt, and is more than happy to do so because she loves us. Gifts don’t make me feel particularly loved at all. I mean, I like them, obviously, but I don’t feel loved if someone buys me a gift. My mother feels loved if you buy her gifts. My father feels loved if you listen to his advice (which is easy to do because he usually corners you and you can’t really avoid it), but he could give a shit about gifts. Anyhow, parts of the book seemed to be true so I’ll admit it that it was enlightening. It’s definitely worth reading. I downloaded the “mans” version for my husband because anything that gets the wheels turning or improves communication is good for marriage (and his life span). He started reading the book that same night after work after I pretty much stapled it to his face. Later when we had dinner I was really interested in what he thought so far.  I asked him what he thought his “love language” was. He shrugged. I asked him what makes him feel loved. He said he didn’t know. I told him, “I feel loved when people are open and honest with me. It’s weird, but when people just sit and speak really openly with me I feel like they trust me, and I can trust them, and I feel a connection with them. I also feel loved when people do things without my asking them to.” He replied, “uh-huh.” I sighed, “like when we first started dating and you wouldn’t shut up and you would participate in life.” He nodded.

“God damnit Francesco! Say something!”

“Like what? I don’t have anything to say. I personally feel very loved.” He said, while chewing.

“Oh. You do? Well that’s good. I’m happy that you feel loved. So, that’s all you have to say to me?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“Alright. Would you please pass me the motherfuckin’ wine?”

And then I drank my problems away like the well-adjusted person that I am.

On a lighter note, this scenario gave me an idea for a more practical book titled, Love Languages Revised: Fuck it, Get Drunk! Way to miss out on that money maker, guy.

PS. You shouldn’t stab anyone, ever. It’s illegal.

PSS. You also shouldn’t drink your problems away. Unless you’re over 21. Then, do it!

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And also: I found this today while listening to The Postal Service on YouTube. The fuck people?

“Well I was making passionate love to my zebra through the back door when he got struck down with cancer. My zebra went through chemotherapy for 8 months and progressively got worse. Eventually my vet had him put down and sold to the meat packing industry for 2 pennies. Later I found out my zebra didn’t have cancer and my vet’s second husband had been using that as an excuse to make passionate love to my zebra. It’s just that I get this way whenever I hear songs because it reminds me of vets.”

Then I googled, “zebra sex.” And these are the first three comments:

“I hate when my penis drags on the ground like that.”

“Now it’s clear that Zebras are BLACK…with white stripes…”

“Funny I love zebra sex lol my friend Christine and Hannah watch it all the time XD”

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Then I ended up on a pelvic exam video then a Japanese girl getting a massage. Get me off the fucking internet!

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