Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Biff and Darla Join Forces

Dear Readers:

Darla and I decided to team up on some couple-oriented issues, originally dealt with much less directly in a national women's magazine. And, once again, Darla proves that she's not only damn beautiful and great in bed, but smart as hell, too!

Doggie Duty

Dear Biff and Darla:

I want a dog but my wife is against it. I told her that I'll be responsible for walking and feeding him, but she just laughs and says that she knows she'll end up doing the dirty work. I'm not a 6-year-old -- why do I need her permission anyway?

Biff says: Are you a man, or a pussy? What the hell did you ask her for? Remember, the first rule of marriage is, "It's always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission." Go get your damn dog, and tell her if she doesn't like it, she can take a hike. If she does, consider yourself lucky. The dog will be more loyal to you than she ever was; he will be glad to see you EVERY DAY when you get home from work; he won't be disgusted when you take a stinky bean-burrito-Dos-Equis-and-tequila shit; he won't lecture you for leaving your underwear on the bedroom floor; you will never have to worry about what he really meant, instead of what he said; and he won't even be jealous when you bring home skanky strippers, or tell you "I told you so," when you get the Clap.

Darla says: So, you think women are high maintenance? Try owning a dog. They are all pooping, peeing, puking bark machines, most of whom have no shame where or when they perform their dastardly deeds. Sorry buddy, but unless you plan to become VERY FRIENDLY with your new pet, I wouldn't recommend pissing off the wife. Better to be a pussy, than to have to beg for it, and believe me, you will be begging. Dogs live a LONG time. However, if you do grow some balls and get a dog, get used to operating a carpet cleaner, scooping lots of shit, and walking your new lover, uh, I mean best friend, in all kinds of nasty weather, while your wife looks on, laughing her ass off....

The New Wisteria Lane

Dear Biff and Darla:

My husband keeps buying me sexy, skimpy outfits. I'm in good shape but I'm too old to be prancing around suburban parties in micro-minis and too-tight tops. I told him if he wanted a hooker, he shouldn't have married a lady!

Biff says: Honey, somewhere along the line, you missed the whole Madonna/Whore lesson. Your husband does want a hooker, and if you don't provide him with one, he'll find one on his own. Shut up, dress up, and have some fucking fun for once in your lady-like prissy-ass life, for Christ's sake.

Darla says: I suggest turning the tables on this selfish dickhead. It's time to invest in some serious leather: a bustier, boots (the pointier the toe, the better); oh, and don't forget the whip, leash, and handcuffs. He wants a whore? Go him one better, tell him you want him to be your sex slave! He'll either be scared shitless, or better yet, get you both off big time. Either way, you're in control, and isn't that the way it should be?

Biff says: Leather bustier, pointy boots, and a whip? Ummmm ... say, Darla, are you busy this weekend?

Safety Crash Course

Dear Biff and Darla:

My son wants to get a motorcycle for his high school graduation, and my husband thinks it's a great idea. I'm violently opposed. They're high-fiving each other, and I'm furious. What should I do?

Biff says: Buy your husband a motorcycle, too, and a big life insurance policy.

Darla says: At what point in your marriage did you begin to allow your husband to make decisions? That is NEVER a good idea. Ultimately, you hold the trump card. It's located between your legs...

Biff says: Damn your irrefutable logic, woman!!! Want to play cards later?

Need advice on your relationship? Write to biffhumble@redflagpublishing.com. And visit Red Flag Publishing

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