Women who decide to get involved with married men are stupid, opportunistic, gold-digging whores. I would, however, like to think it takes some sort of calculated smarts to wind up in an $11 million mansion with two small dogs (bill footed by Charles E. Phillips, co-president of Oracle).
Maybe it takes being smart to wind up on Oprah after your affair with a Presidential candidate goes sour.
Maybe it takes absolutely no sense at all because who in their right mind would fuck this guy? He always seemed to have two chicks going at once.
Serial adultery? Ladies, it’s time to wise-up and once again put on your big girl britches instead of leaving them on some married guy’s floor. I’m straight-up exhausted with all of the media talk about who’s boning who and whether it’s in or out of wedlock. Guys have screwed around as long as they’ve had the twig-n-berries setup and women…well, they’ve been screwing around just about as long. It’s always “news” to air out the dirty laundry of others and, quite frankly, I can’t blame the leader for latching on to Tiger like a bucking bronco.
I’m blaming the women.
What the hell are you doing?
Hello…I don’t know if you noticed, but that’s a married man. That means, at home, he has a wife, children, obligations. He may be a horny fucktard and cry about how his wife never listens, but if he wants license to go get some strange, he needs to cowboy the fuck up and get unhitched. And you, missy – you need to put your legs together and stop thinking about fun long enough to realize he’s not yours to touch. If you need a zipless fuck, go hit on the obviously single guy at the end of the bar who’s been ogling you all night. Take him home, bone his brains out and give him a wrong number the next morning instead of trolling sites like The Ashley Madison Agency. Remember when you took your classmate’s favorite marble and the teacher found it in your desk? Same concept. These are not the marbles you’re looking for. Move along.
It’s NOT glamorous to be a mistress
If you truly think it’s exciting to be involved in a covert affair with a man who will never go out in public with you and never leave his wife for you, you’re stupid. Completely stupid. I understand that mistresses throughout the ages have reaped financial benefits untold, but you’re still a home wrecker. Eleanor Herman, author of Sex With Kings (HarperCollins, 2004), reports that some royal mistresses received financial compensation up to $200 million. It’s generally not so glamorous in this day and age. Let’s take a little slice-of-life glimpse at the life of a mistress:
Watch your boyfriend/married man/fuck buddy who’s never going to marry you roll out of bed at 4:30am so he can rush to the gym to shower before heading to work where he’ll call his wife on the way and blame everything on the Johnson case. You get dresses and head to the office. While on the subway, Cute Guy With Bike glances at you but you glance away since Mr. I’m Not Leaving My Wife/Boyfriend wouldn’t take kindly to you seeing another man even though he’s seeing another woman. His wife. Go through your workday. Girlfriend calls to ask you if you want to double with your Mr. Mystery Man and her new BF. You decline, claiming late hours at the office when it’s really that, well, you can’t have a double date. Ever. Text comes late in the day. Mr. I’m Not Leaving My Wife/Boyfriend can’t make it to your place tomorrow night – he’s sorry but he has to spend some time at home. Flowers arrive at your office thirty-five minutes later from HIM. You smile. He really does love you. Colleague walks by your desk and knocks flowers off the corner, vase shatters on the floor. You call the janitor to come clean up the mess and busily scramble to save every blossom from the man who loves you so much. You head home. After staring at a pile of haphazardly arranged flowers and downing about 1/3 bottle of vodka, you decide to sleep. Alone. He’ll call tomorrow.
I acknowledge completely that the home may already be wrecked, but if a man tells you he wants to be with you and won’t leave his wife, he’s an asshole. Move along.
Stop acting all self-righteous
I don’t know nor do I care to know what went down to end the 8 year-long affair between YaVaughnie Wilkins and Cisco co-president Charles Phillips. Except…he wasn’t going to leave his wife for her. For fuck sake, girl – you got to live in an $11M lily pad and probably paid for nothing for 8 years. Take that cash you stashed and what’s left of your pride and move on. Not only have you wrecked your career and credibility, you look like a jilted psycho hose beast for putting up billboards and setting up a website to expose photos of you and your ex-lover. You fell with your legs open into a married man’s bed. You sleep in the bed you made…and now it’s empty. You can be pissed all you want, but the only one who looks like an ass…is you.
If faced with the decision to tumble with a ring-wearin’ dude (and even if he’s “progressive” and doesn’t wear a ring), here’s a few things to take into consideration:
- He’s married.
- He’s NOT going to leave his wife for you. They rarely do.
- Nobody owes you anything for the stupid decision you made in the first place to climb into bed with him.
- Why would you ruin your life for a man?
YaVaughnie Wilkins was far from working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when she met Charles Phillips. She was interning for fame financial analyst Mary Meeker at Morgan Stanley, a gig that business school kids would give their left nut to score.
Here’s what you did: you met a powerful man who thought you were a hawt young thang. You are – I’ve seen the pictures all over the internet. You slept with him for 8 ½ years and now you’re pissed it’s over. Guess what, girly: he owes you nothing. Relationships end all the time (don’t I know it) and if you’re too stupid to get a cohabitation agreement…which you probably wouldn’t get because your relationship was on the down-low…then Mr. Phillips owes you zippitydoodah, getoutofthehouse. You put yourself in the position, now you’re out of it. Way to waste what’s estimated at $250,000 for the high-profile billboards and website.
You’re not famous. You’re notorious. And pretty much a psycho hose beast.
This isn’t going to fix anything
Serial adulterers like Tiger Woods, New Gingrich (ew), Charles Phillips, and more politicians than I can count will always be around. One may even be living next door to you – they’re not necessarily high-profile, big swingin’ dicks. If you’ve ever been on Match.com and seen the relationship status “currently separated” on a profile…
that means STILL MARRIED. Right? Am I right here?
Some people have affairs as a catalyst to end things. Others do it for the excitement. I know those who have done it because there’s nothing so sexy as to have someone actually listen. And then there are the very few people out there who have the capacity to have successful open relationships. I’m not wired that way, but hey…I see that it can work. I can’t dis it. But I can say that if you’re a stupid woman who gets involved with a married man in the hopes that he’ll leave his wife for you…oh, honey. I’ll hold you down and Miss Manners can bitch slap some sense into you.
Do you really believe, in all honesty, that any person in an unresolved relationship (ummm…like MARRIAGE) has the emotional capacity to sustain an additional emotional relationship? They already straight-up suck at the one they’ve got going on and you think you’re going to be the panacea to make everything right with the world? It’s like being in the path of a snowball rolling downhill: sure, you’ll get caught up in it for a while, but it’s going to leave you dumped at the bottom of the hill or crashed into a tree. You’re simply in the path. You’re not THE path.
Wise-up, ladies. Go get your own man.