Sgt. Pecker's Never Touched Club Crybaby Whingefest Complainathon

Dear Wench Whisperer,

    my problem is I can't find a girlfriend. Women don't appreciate me. They use me and exploit me. They manipulate me and then give me nothing in return for my troubles. No matter how many favors I do them or how much money I spend on them I don't get anything for it. The last time I took a woman out I paid for everything the whole evening but then when I suggested we go back to my place she said she was tired and just wanted to go home and sleep. No sex, no romance, after all the money and trouble I'd gone thru.
    This has happened before, hell it happens every time, with all women. I make a good living and I drive a nice car but that's not enough for them. What do they want anyway? Why are all women so superficial? Even the ugly ones are superficial. Why can't they appreciate what I do for them? Don't I deserve at least something for the efforts I make?

-Lonely and It's Not My Fault

Loser,

    please, somebody just dig me a grave so i can roll over in it.  The bilge has been seriously scraped for subject matter this time. Your problem is contemptablecommon and not even close to interesting, but your letter is such a caviling, carping complainathon i feel like i just read a chapter of the Mangina Monologues and, for that reason alone, i simply Must. Have. Revenge. 
    Do you honestly believe that the only reason you can't find a girlfriend is because the cold and usurious females of the world are incapable of fathoming your awesomeness and hence don't realize what they're missing? Keep believing that, monkeyassdear reader, and if your head gets any bigger it's going to break your sphincter.
    i can't advise you on how to find a girlfriend because, for one thing, i'm not the Guru of How-To-Succeed-With-Women-Despite-Being-A-Clumsy-Thirty-Year-Old-Hard-on-Attached-To-A-Clueless-Ten-Year-Old-Mind and, for another thing, i think most women are better off not being your girlfriend. But since Mutiny gets pissed if i don't send them a column i'm here to help, i will identify your problem for you and thus, possibly, enable happiness and fulfillment to manifest within your contemptable, uselesstroubled life. You're welcome.
    Your problem is that you don't like women. You are angry at them after years of rejection and thousands of solitary nights spent swabbing your own bowsprit whilst plowing thru a fishless sea. You despise women yet in a paroxysm of irrationality feel that you deserve to have one. You can't find a girl at all yet insist that "Even the ugly ones are superficial." That line alone could win you the Nobel Idiot Prize.
    Your anger is palpable to women. They sense that hostility and just want to get away from it. i don't blame them. While some people radiate charisma, you just radiate 'needy,' 'desperate' and 'stalker.'     
    The good news is there are plenty of women who'll overlook your resentful demeanor and who'll gladly put out after you spend money on them. They're called prostitutes. There are also women who'll listen to your cry-baby bitchfests about how you've been done wrong by an uncaring world, they're called psychiatrists (but they're much more expensive). Still, you probably need one of those more than anything else right now.
    Lastly; since i won'tcan't help you find a prostitutegirlfriend -or even give you the least splinter of hope that you ever will- i'm going to open the Olde Pirate's Dictionary and introduce you to a very useful nautical term.
    Frigging: A kindly, though solitary, easement of nature, commonly practiced by seafaring men, particularly on lengthy and arduous voyages when feminine compire is lacking. Their worn and callused hands indeed providing but the barest relief from that incessantly recurrent swelling which doth afflict and torment them.
    Get familiar with it because, judging by your letter, you may have a lifetime membership in Sgt. Pecker's Never Touched Club.

- You've been whispered.

Thirteen.

Gates of Horn and Ivory

         Mutiny Magazine #8, featuring the return of Wench Whisperer, has just been inflicted upon the world and -for the first time EVER- i have a direct (do not pass website) link to the mag itself: Mutiny #8.
    Should you be inclined though, Mutiny does have a sparkling new website which is way more lively than the previous one so Go. NOW.
    As well, the first Mutiny pirate cruise will be setting sail this weekend. This is not a Sea of Darkness voyage but, rather, an initiation of new members into the Order of Leviathan pirate group for which Mutiny Magazine is throwing the party because somebody had to do it. i will be aboard ship and at the after party where i may or may not be offering live whisperings from the stage. The Pirates Charles will be appearing on the ship and at the party so come aloft and get yer harle on!
    Godspeed!

Violence is the Flower of Predictability

Dear Wench Whisperer,

    Every Friday I send flowers to my girlfriend at her work. It always makes her happy and she enjoys showing them off to her coworkers. The trouble is, a couple weeks ago my usual florist was on vacation and I was working late every night so I wasn't able to make other arrangements hence, for the first time, my girl did not get a flower delivery on Friday. By Saturday she had gone from sulking about it to angrily accusing me of cheating on her. She keeps asking who I'm f*cking around with and when I tell her I'm not (which is the truth) she just gets angrier. Well, the following Friday she got her usual flowers from me but instead of being thankful she arrived at my door later that evening and threw them on my floor and stomped on them until each one was crushed, all the time cursing me and my "Goddam f*ing roses!" So I missed one week. I'm sorry. Why can't she just understand and get over it? 

    - Not Sure What I Did Wrong

Dear Not Sure,

    This is serious, but it's your own fault. What you did wrong was you went and broke Flower Rule #1: Flowers should always be a surprise. There are many reasons for this rule. Among them; unexpected flowers can give a woman a rush of happiness, a quickening of romantic cheer, a pleasant surprise to inspire in her the will to continue an otherwise banal slog through the futility of pointless existence we call life. Their sudden, sweet-scented appearance can shake her from the doldrums of abysmal contemplation. You might even say they have the power to "make a nothing day seem worthwhile."
    But flowers won't surprise her if she's expecting them and they won't give her that rush of happiness if they don't surprise her. Her appreciation of them will diminish if they become a perfunctory expectation, she'll notice them less and less each time they come but when, inevitably, the day occurs that she doesn't receive the flowers she feels entitled to, she'll notice that. She'll notice it like a bleeding herpes outbreak on your bowsprit. 
    To you, it'll be as simple as "Oh, I worked late and the florist was closed." But to her it won't be simple at all. It will be symptomatic of your lack of concern for her and the fading of your passion. It will bother her no end as she tries to figure out why you don't care anymore. She'll wonder if you're having an affair. Yes, she'll decide, you're definitely having an affair. She'll go thru her previously compiled mental list of all the women you might be cheating with (yes, every girlfriend has such a list, even the good ones who don't realize it). She'll determine the most likely candidate, 'It's that bitch who works in the next cubicle from him! I remember the way that bitch was looking at him!' (you know the one she means: that poor epileptic chick who volunteers at the charity ward on weekends and has mild seizures from time to time during which she stares blankly into space, space which you happened to be occupying once at a company party that your girlfriend was attending with you? Yeah, that one.) Your girlfriend won't believe your denials about it because the absent flowers are all the proof she needs. (you bastard.) And now, what she'll demand that you do and what you will do merely to appease your angry girlfriend by proving that this (oblivious) other woman means nothing to you, is you'll fire her. Yes, you'll have to fire that (blameless) poor epileptic woman who has rent to pay and kittens to feed and whose poor, Protestant parents back in Kansas -who, after decades of praying for their misfit daughter to find a place in the world were finally singing 'She just might make it after all!'- are going to have to hear (because to avoid a lawsuit you'll need a good reason for firing her) the accusations that their precious, special girl has turned into a tramp. And, trust me, that gossip, however baseless, will spread faster than a Lohan's legs thru the whole state of Kansas until her parents are ostracized.
    She'll probably never find another job either, because nobody wants to hire a seizure-prone epileptic cat-hoarder who was terminated from her previous position under suspicion of having shagged a coworker. The morals clause in her volunteer's agreement at the Orphan's Ward will require that she be dismissed from there too. So, to be perfectly accurate, you have condemned a blameless soul to a future of staring hopelessly at her chamber walls, withering away in a purposeless life whilst those precious kittens starve and her formerly steadfast parents are disgraced and disown her, (will alcoholic suicide be somewhere in her bleak future? Of course it will.) And all because you just H-A-A-A-D to make a habit of giving your wench flowers Every. Single. Week... (Arsehole.) Was it worth it? Well, was it? Punk? You disgust me.
    i don't think you can fix this. You're just going to have to get a new girlfriend. Not that you deserve one. Good luck.

-You've been Whispered

 

 

UPDATE: i quoted this song a couple times in this whispering. Here's the full version for those who didn't recognize it. Godspeed ye!