Don’t think for a minute that after writing parts 1 & 2 I’ve expelled some of my energy and this will be calmer in the least. This is the one you’ve been waiting for…

Thankfully, this story has no bearing on the life of Dr.Viggy whatsoever, but rather a friend of mine who has no creative outlet for romantic strife nor a way to pay back the lying slut whore(s) in his life so I’ve taken it upon myself to eviscerate her in fiction for him. Plus I felt it my duty to take on such a task since we share not only the same first name but the same date of birth as well.

Backstory: This guy has been dating a woman for about a year. They started in a long distance relationship which seems to stand the test of the miles without fail. They talked, emailed, IMed daily and even traveled halfway across this great nation at least once a month. He traveled for about 6 weeks for work recently and she traveled for work for a longer duration and significantly farther away but they stayed in touch. He even re-routed business travel to get in one last weekend with her before he dug into his tasks. He did not know that his efforts would be in vain.

Things were still going well, so much so, that he scrounged up all of his pennies and began the quest for the female Holy Grail: a diamond. Metaphorically he picked up a string and pulled which caused the subsequent unraveling of this relationship. Unfortunately, all the following things happened TO him and left him holding a pile of string wondering “what the fuck just happened?” It goes a little something like this:

She gets distant but claims nothing is wrong. Emails are not returned, phones are not answered and excuses are made for both lacks of communication. Generic emails to groups of people, however, manage to arrive swiftly and regularly. They talk about this and get nowhere. He just wanted answers – good, bad, or indifferent. Can you blame him? Tell me you can and I’ll tell you that you’re a fucking liar. Anyway… this continues with further and further gaps until communication comes to a screeching halt. Now, had I been in contact with him, I’d have been counsel to him during these events, but if you were paying any attention to me, you’d know that he was away on business.

So this guy does what any red blooded American would do in the same situation and blew all the ring money on himself and bought a motorcycle. Why would he buy a diamond for her after the way she had been to him? He then returns home from his trip prepared to cruise around on the new bike, living the newly single life since he’s heard nothing from his woman and was pretty sure she had flown the coop. Well guess who shows up? Yup, just as unexpectedly as she disappeared, she was back. Reminds me of another article I wrote previously called “The Phantom.”

This makes no sense to him so naturally, he asks her if there’s someone else in her life. She swears up and down that there is not and even gets upset that he bought himself the motorcycle. He gives her a chance to explain her disappearance but she’s WAY too wrapped up in the stupid fucking motorcycle to bother taking a minute to save the relationship with the man that was going to buy her an engagement ring until she disappeared and CAUSED the purchase of the same bike that she was SO pissed about. At this point, he’s about had it with her and they decide to call it quits once and for all.

If that’s all that happened, this would be an open and shut case of a failed relationship and that happens in this world all the time. It’s a shame that’s not the case.

She shows up AGAIN after all is said in done. Apparently she had been checking up on him via the web and saw that he moved on and gave him some sob story about how much she missed him, etc. Of course he didn’t move on the way she thought but who dwell on such an event and remain away from the edge of a building? So he was ATTEMPTING to move on and just live his life.

So she wants to play Sherlock Holmes and see what he’s been up to? Two can certainly play the same game. One of the most notorious community sites out there houses a profile of said woman. This site gives “friends” an opportunity to comment on photos you’ve placed of yourself.

It goes without saying that it’s the first place he looked in his quest for information and closure. Neither of us was settled and sated by her indignation that there was nobody else in her life. And sure as shit, we find her to be a card carrying member of the Lying Slut Whore club when we see one of the aforementioned pictures that houses a comment by another male. Who woulda thunk it? I know you’re dying to know what the comment was. Well, I can’t and won’t restate it verbatim but it was something to the effect of this new guy telling her how great she looked in the photo, as always, and that he loved her very much.

So it’s time for the recap. She distanced herself from him to pursue the new guy and told him nothing of this. Why could this be? Maybe to not burn bridges in case the new guy turned out to be a dick which would also explain her recent return. Someone so cruel, cold and calculating doesn’t deserve either guy. What amazes me is that she had the audacity to get mad at him for getting the bike. Someone, PLEASE, explain to me how the fuck that is her right to complain or even give a shit given what she was up to. So she lied AND she cheated AND she came crawling back when it blew up in her face.

What did he do? I’ll be more than happy to outline that for you as well. He stuck by her while they were apart. He invested time, money, and emotions on her to make this relationship work and this is the payment he gets.

So ok… maybe I DID calm down just a bit on that one but the point remains the same. We, as men, constantly catch a bad rap about our behaviors and women get off free and clear with all of the romantic travesties they commit. Well folks, I’m sorry but I’m gonna raise the BS flag here. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… the double standard MUST come to an end. If you wanna be a lying slut whore then be a lying slut whore but realize that there are still decent people in this world and don’t drag the good guys into your ring of deception and bullshit. Pretend to be an adult for just a minute and conduct yourself as such. If you can’t do that… then… well… kill yourself because we don’t need that bullshit. My friend agrees. I told him all of this and said, “That’s truly how I feel” and he said, “Ditto.”

If you read part one of this miniseries, then you can only imagine what’s on the docket for part 2. More of the same intolerable cruelty on the part of what’s said to be the fairer sex

Here you will find 2 stories from my personal collection of lousy and downright unacceptable sets of circumstances with the broads.

First: Even earlier in my life than the lying slut whore from part one was another such woman who I spent the better part of a year with. We were still in school at this time. We met on the job and began dating. Neither of us had a shitload going on in our lives so we were able to spend a significant amount of time together and the relationship grew at an exponential rate. We had decided to keep sex out of the equation as she claimed (key word) to be waiting for the right one. I respected that. Once again, I’ll remind you as I did in part one that back then I was a sick, sick individual.

Days go by and weeks march on and things were right where we had hoped and expected them to be. One day I’m at work and she’s at school taking a final exam. As per usual, she meets me at work so we can have lunch together. Everything seems normal and we go on our way. One night we both attend a party. I didn’t know most of the people in attendance and everyone has a good time. The party winds down early so the contingent of people that I DID know find their way back to my place for some late night swimming and boozing. One of the latecomers pulls me aside with some news. Apparently, an individual that I met at the party earlier that evening had shared some information with my friend. Said information was such that he had slept with my then girlfriend. In a fit of rage, lawn chairs, picnic tables and anything else that wasn’t nailed down found it’s way into the pool by my hands. Luckily, the lying slut whore in question had gone home already by this point.

Naturally, I question the gentleman that confessed his sin to my friend and he swears he did not know she was with me. I chose to believe him over the simple fact that he took an ENORMOUS risk by coming clean with the disclaimer that should I find out that he lied to me then his best bet would be to just MOVE somewhere very, very far away.

When given an opportunity to come clean with anything I should know, she went into pure denial and told me boldface lies. So I came out with the fact that I KNEW and with a look of shock on her face she admitted it and asked me how I knew. I responded that it was not her problem any longer and she could feel free to fuck anyone she liked because I was done with her. She pleaded her case, stating that she knew not what she was doing to which I asked her “At ANY point did you look this man in the face and think ‘Hey, that doesn’t look like my boyfriend?’ or did you just not care?” I then reminded her that I was done with her and walked away.

The caveat to this: the day at lunch that I mentioned was less than an hour after she got out of his bed.

Analysis on this one: She lied about being a virgin, she cheated, she kept it from me and saw me almost immediately after this happened, she refused to come clean when given the opportunity and yet found it acceptable to beg for forgiveness.

Second: Either a few short months before that last relationship started or after it ended, I can’t remember which anymore, I had ANOTHER relationship. This one didn’t go on quite as long and the infidelity is yet unproven but as anyone who’s been cheated on can atest to, you just know when it’s happened. And on with the show:

We had been dating some months and New Year’s Eve was rolling around. I drove the hour and some change to where she lived to pick her up and bring her back to my place so we could spend the night out and about at a friend’s fraternity house (you can see how long ago this was). Things are, once again, going as planned and people are strewn throughout the house. I was always pleased that she was social enough to be able mix and mingle on her own without requiring the babysitting services of her boyfriend. Much to my shagrin, that was also what led to what I’m about to tell you. I go looking for her at one point and she’s nowhere to be found. Three floors of rooms plus a main floor with living room, etc and basement made for quite the search. Finally, I come across her on the third floor in a room reserved for seniors called “The Palace.” In said room, were only my lying slut whore and the definitive occupant of the room. They are not caught in the act but the did take some time to open the door and looked suspiciously nervous. I left with her and she cautiously walked the hallway with me as if she was expecting to hear me blow my stack but I had no proof and a long drive with her back home so I kept my cool.

I had to work the next day and so she hung out with some friends of hers that lived near me only to find out that she wanted to stay there rather than come back to me after I was done with work to partake in illegal and illicit drugs. Well, regardless of her wishes, I picked her up and took her home (the entire hour and change) and turned around and made my way back to my place. No words were exchanged as none were needed because we both just knew.

Last I heard she was blowing every guy that entered a 6 mile radius of wherever she happened to be kneeling at the time. Some people like to move up in the world. She got it backwards and decided to go down on the world. So good luck with that, I say.

So that about sums up part two and REITERATES just how horrible women can be. Still not the story that caused this miniseries, but it’s coming soon. Stay tuned for the third, and final, installment of “Lying Slut Whores and the men that love them.”

Oh ladies, I am fired up tonight. The say that Italians have bad tempers because we’ve got piss and vinegar running through our veins. Well add that with a bottle or six of wine and you’ve got an explosive combination generally. Sometimes that hot-bloodedness turns into the steamy passion that we all crave so much, but it also means we can flip like a switch or a bad acid trip and turn into a fucking nightmare. Guess which side of the fence the infamous Dr.Viggy is on tonight? You guessed it… Sit down, shut up and listen (or read, as it were).

That is it. It is officially time to knock this shit off about the cheating, lying, scumbag, dogs that men are because you women have just securely fastened the last nail in the proverbial coffin. It’s on like kong now. I have some stories for you about just how low you can go (ladies) and why us men are done taking it lying down.

Story #1 comes from the life of the Doc (long before I was the Doc, so don’t try to blame my “profession” on what happened. See… I know what you’re thinking). In days of old, back when knights were bold, Dr.Viggy was in love (keep the “awwws” to your damn selves). Things were great. She was gorgeous, seemingly sweet, and, incidentally, one hell of a lover. This came at a time in the Doc’s life where I was not looking for this but it showed up on my doorstep and I was not one to tempt fate back then so I went with it as if it were meant to be. I was a sick, sick individual back then. Now, let’s paint a picture here about the situation. This young lady was a bit younger than I (in her early 20s), she was already divorced with one child. Not the type of situation one dreams about but things were so fabulous that nothing else mattered. So on we went down our romantic path as we planned our life together and all was well.

Work had moved me roughly 8 hours away from her, but that didn’t phase me. The very next weekend or so, I was on my way back to her (unbeknownst to her) for a surprise. She welcomes me into her home and the bed we once shared nightly and all was well.

I left to return to my job at the end of the weekend and we spoke every day for several hours (I have the cell phone bills to prove it). There was no stress as we were so very much in love and we assured and RE-assured each other that we would stick together no matter what and all was well.

Mutual friends of ours were to be married in only a few weeks after my surprise visit and I was to be back there yet again, but I had ANOTHER surprise up my sleeve for her. I arrive down there and, yet again, she welcomes me into her home and that same bed. We spend the weekend together at the wedding and there are no signs of stress or strife and all was well.

Now… the night before the wedding, I throw caution to the wind and say to hell with my plans and from within the bed I turn to her, pull out a ring box (with a not-so-modest diamond ring in it) and asked for her hand in marriage. She looks shocked, cries, hugs/kisses me, says yes, hugs/kisses me again… and again… and again, we make love and go to sleep and all was well.

A couple of months go by and the distance grows between us, not necessarily in a geographical sense but emotionally. Maybe it was more of Dr.Viggy standing still and her slowly backing away. We hit the rocks and call it quits. I decide that I can’t have that and we talk it out and get back together. This roller coaster continues for some time. We get back together one final time and I tell her it’s one of two things: a) Third time’s the charm or b) three strikes and you’re out. (I love cliches). So we give it a go yet again and we even keep our initially planned wedding date which was 4 months away at this point. Ready for the shock? It didn’t work again. So that was that, I had given up and we went our separate ways and all was NOT well.

We would speak from time to time. I’ll clarify: She’d call and talk about herself, her child, the pain in the ass her ex-husband was being in her life and all other nonsense that I didn’t give a shit about; all while not even pretending to be interested in my life for about 15 minutes and then we’d hang up. I found it easier to endure that every couple of months as my alternative was not answering and dealing with 3 calls per day or until I answered.

About a year since the final break up goes by and I’m spending time with the mutual friends, at whom’s wedding I was at with the ex and I’m asked if I ever speak with her to which I promptly reply, “Nope, never.” That response garnered one from the couple that I was not nearly prepared to hear. Thankfully I was drinking at the moment and I hear, “Well since that’s the case then there’s something you should know.” The sentence that follows that is never a good one. In any event, I’ll paraphrase. In the 3 or so weeks between my surprise visit and the weekend of the engagement, my ex had slept with another man. OUCH, there’s the injury. Here comes the insult that was added to it. Of all people on the planet Earth for her to fuck, she managed to do it with her EX-HUSBAND.

So thus, she has ever since been known as “The Lying Slut Whore” which I think is very befitting of such a character and action. Think about this for a moment please. This lying slut whore not only slept with another man, but it was her ex-husband; someone she found so vile that she broke the sacred bond of marriage. But wait, lest we forget that sometime roughly 3 weeks (or less) later she saw me, slept with me, and acted like nothing was wrong when she accepted my MARRIAGE PROPOSAL. That is lower than low.

So that about sums up that story and just how horrible women can be. Oddly enough, that’s not what prompted this article. That story hasn’t been told yet. The story that got my creative juices flowing brought this one to mind and has since spawned a “Lying Slut Whores and the men that love them” miniseries. Look for the next installment coming soon to a browser near you.

How can a site like this exist and let a day like today go swiftly by with no mention? Well in good conscience I couldn’t do it. Granted, it’s not Valentine’s Day today, but I have nothing new to report and it’s been slow lately with regard to people looking for sound advice from an upstanding professional member of the medical community.

So on that note, I figured the only thing I could do is share with you, yet another, wonderfully sexy situation gone awry. This, like the others, is from my personal collection of misfortunes. Here goes:

Several years back I was involved heavily in a fairly serious and legitimate relationship. As hard as it is to believe, it’s true nonetheless. Sure enough the dreaded Valentine’s day arrived. I made sure to do the whole cutesy, lovey dovey flowers routine and to benefit myself as well, we went out for a fantastic Italian feast. What better way to cap off this girly day than with a good meal and some wine? So we spend some time out at dinner so I can stuff my face with every fattening, heavy morsel I can get my hands on while downing an entire bottle of wine (as any good Italian boy is trained to do since the age of five).

We get back to her place and I’m sharply instructed to stay out of the bedroom while she goes to “prepare.” After being beckoned in, I find rose petals strewn all over the place and roughly 18 thousand candles on every available surface, making the room upwards of 85 degrees.

I must say that I was quite intrigued since she had gone through all that the trouble and prepared to set aside the gurgling noises coming from my well sated belly and truly celebrate our relationship on Valentine’s Day.

I pounce on her in the bed and we tear into one another. Being February and chilly, she throws over us the blanket I got her that day – something embroidered with names and all that jazz. She is so enthralled with my apparent thoughtfulness that she disappears under said blanket and goes to work. Her mama didn’t raise no quitter and she kept on right through the end for the big payoff.

Abruptly, she appears from under the blanket with a big grin and says, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back. I bought something that I want to try on for you.” You can imagine my excitement as I watch her saunter out of the room; my mind racing at the possibilities of the gear she was donning at that very moment.

Now… let’s remember that I had just eaten an enormous meal, drank a bottle of wine and lay in a room that makes the Mediterranean feel like the polar ice caps after just having emptied a “bullet from the chamber.” What do you think happened? Well, by the time her Superman, quick change act was over and she reentered the room I was sound asleep in the same position she had left me in. Out cold to the point that I may as well have been in a coma. That is the state and position in which I spent the remainder of the night.

The next morning I open my eyes and look over to find an icy, stare or more of a scowl looking back at me. Naturally surprised to see this on the day after the most romantic day of the year, I said, “You look upset. What happened?” I’m still trying to pry my foot out of my mouth. Her reply was simply, “NO-THING. NOT…A…DAMN…THING!” Shortly thereafter, the previous night’s events found their way into my memory and I said “Oh, I fell asleep.” Mistake number 2 was that at that moment, I found that to be one of the funniest things I had experienced in a long time. The daggers from her eyes set me straight and I bit my lip and watched her walk out of the room with a much different swagger than just a few hours prior.

And that was that… there were no apologies or reasoning. She was pissed, I was a jerk and that was the way it was to be for at least several days.

I have no advice because I think given the same situation I may do the same thing. There are certain forces of nature that have certain effects as individuals. Combine them and you’re really in for it – big meal, booze, heat and some sexual satisfaction = sleep. There’s no two ways about it.

So there it is… Dr.Viggy is apparently NOT infallible. Stay awake, have some fun, send me the pics!

Good Night!

Well Ladies and Germs, the time has once again come for me to unleash upon you another anecdote from the never ending list of romantically challenged events in the life of yours truly.

Now as we all know, and I’ve said time and again, men have been getting this bad rap over all the years for the disappearing acts we pull on the unsuspecting women in our lives. Women are just as capable at being phantoms in our lives and coming and going unexpectedly, without warning, explanation or rhyme or reason. Throughout my writings, I’ve continually attempted to level the playing field and have men and women on an even plane as far as blame is concerned. And yet, what do we have? We have me roaming this great world hearing stories of how “All men are pigs” and other ridiculous blanket statements of the same sort. Well, it’s time for a story that will settle the score and prove once and for all that women are just as guilty because, frankly, I’ve had it with being part of a mislabeled genre of scumbags. So ladies, listen up because you’re about to lose all rights to point that finger. This is not your average essay – full of wit, nonsense and comical takes on real relationship events – I’m pissed, girls!

I met a woman some time back. Another friend of a friend like the last time (see my archive article called “Games”). This delightful woman was not only currently involved but actually engaged to a man. Let me tell you folks, when I first met this individual, I could not stand her! She was quite the prima donna and there were several occasions where my foot wanted to make an appointment with her ass. But there was no agenda so I let sleeping dogs lie, as they say.

The man had, at one point, gone away on business, we’ll say, for an extended period of time and this female joined us for a social evening of drinking, silliness and fun while flying solo. Suddenly it became apparent to me that she was not an inherent bitch… he made her that way! She was actually rather pleasant to be around. On a side note, she was particular easy on the eyes as well. So what do you think happened? As you can imagine, I rolled up my sleeves and went into the fray preparing for a battle. Much to my surprise, there were no defenses and by the end of our night of playful banter, flirting and other teasings we find each ourselves in the throes of passion.

Strangely enough as I’m seeing the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel (through a vodka induced haze), I have a moment of moral clarity. Wait a minute, that light was the gargantuan diamond on a very conspicuous finger. Against my better judgment and usual decision process, I halted all activities and begun to retire for the evening. I know it’s hard to believe but we all have our moments. On the way to my room, I’m followed by her and asked what changed, etc and I simply said, “____, forget it. You’ve got him and this ring. We can’t do this.” She assures me that the next time I see her, the ring will be left at home and for a moment I considered this, but stuck to my guns and decided to leave it alone.

As fate would have it, the ring was right in place on her finger at our next junction and it was like nothing had happened. And so it goes, disappearing act #1 had happened. Do you honestly think that I can be that lucky and have something THAT simple? Of course not. We suffered through the awkwardness and pressed on with our day. A friendship quickly grew between us that had us speaking outside of our common association of the friends that made the introduction (unbeknownst to said friends, on her request).

That friendship sparked a romantic interest in one another and we begun to investigate the road down which that interest would take us. Let’s not forget, all the while she is still technically engaged while her fiance is away on business. She tells me of the status of their relationship and that the engagement is a mistake but she cannot break it off until he returns from his trip and would like to see where things go between us. I understand being caught between the rock and the hard place and allow this charade to continue. Things are goings marvelously well for us, to the point that she is prepared to leave this man before his impending return so we can ride off into the sunset. We sure did have a lot going for us in the way of interest, background, future wants, etc and it was worth it for me to endure this drama.

I did ask her to assure me of one thing and that was that if she decided to choose to stay with her prior man, then she would at least have the decency to let me know in an open, mature and dignified manner. And that if she did that, I would understand and wish her well in all her endeavors. I did all I could to make sure I was the one she would choose though. From my time, my efforts to help her with school, the house, her child, etc. I locked myself in her bedroom when her man would call so he wouldn’t hear. I jumped out of bed and hid when he came on the webcam from his remote location. I even kept this whole forbidden affair a secret from our mutual friends for the month and change this went on.

And then, the phantom strikes again – disappearing act #2. Phone calls go unreturned as do emails. She stops making appearances at our weekly social gatherings. Time I had set aside to spend with her and her daughter as well as some well planned, fairly costly surprises go to waste. Even things a simple as online conversations come to a halt as she comes and goes from the internet without so much as a hello or that dignified explanation I mentioned earlier.

And so she walked out of my life forever. Disappeared without a trace with this man to another state where she now lives. Never did I get that explanation. Was it guilt that wouldn’t allow her to face it? Not likely. Was it fear for my reaction? Doubt it. Was it purely cruel, heartless behavior based on wanton disregard for the position of another? I think we’ve nailed it that time. So as with any sudden stop, it was quite jolting and jarring and left me feeling slightly battered but I’m pretty resilient and decided that rather than waiting for her to reappear or pining for days lost, that I should just cross my fingers that she’d take a long walk off a short pier.

Life was good. I hadn’t given her but a second thought since the abrupt ending of our short tryst. Hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her and couldn’t have cared any less. It was to the point that I actually laughed about it with others and told nearly everyone I came across of the ridiculousness of the situation, to include some ex-coworkers of hers that were under the impression she was a stand-up character.

You knew there was more, didn’t ya? Well, I received, out of the blue, an email from her just this very evening. Was it a letter or explanation/apology or even an “I’m wondering if you’re still alive?” email? Guess again cousin. It was a chain forward… Not even a funny one tailored to my humor that she’d put some thought into acknowledging that I’d appreciate it. It was some bullshit email to pray for this diseased child from her home town. No disrespect to the child or the family of that child, but is it not ridiculous for her to email me so brazenly; because the email asked for support? Support? This poor child will lose out on my support for the simple fact that my knowledge of this child originated from this dopey, selfish bimbo.

Why would she even bother? I know you’re asking yourself because I asked myself the same thing. There are a variety of reasons, but I think I narrowed it down. First, it could be that she just cares so much for the ailing child that she wants as many names as possible at the bottom of the list but as we’ve seen thus far, if it’s not about her, she doesn’t give much of a shit. Secondly, it could be that it was an excuse to contact me, but that’s clearly not the case because she had her chance and she blew it. The final, and definite, choice is that her name (as well as her daughter’s) at the bottom of the email were signed with a new last name. What name could that be? The name of the man she was originally with. They are apparently married now. I think it was an attempt to give me the good news that it’s official.

(I have to tell you quickly how I responded. I couldn’t let it go, that would have been absolutely NO fun. I simply said, “You’ve GOT to be kidding me.” And would you believe it, she replied to me with “Nope this is true, she is from the same local area, my mom sent it to me and asked me to send it on.” As if my comment had the slightest to do with the content of the email and not the fact that she even had the brass buttons to email me at all.)

I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass what she does with herself. I’m less interested in who she’s fucking/dating/marrying than I am in getting a railroad spike inserted in the tip of my pecker. But the funny part is that since she did that in secret, I can only imagine that our short relationship was kept secret from this guy. The even funnier part is that I recently heard that he is due for another one of those LONG business trips in the not too distant future and she’ll be back to square one but this time she’ll be married.

So, it just goes to show that women are just as capable at executing poor judgment or no judgment for that matter as are men. Women can show up and disappear just as easily. Women can act and lead us on under false pretense just the same as we can toward women. Women are just as much dogs as men… but what’s the name for female dogs? I believe the term is BITCHES. So before you all get huffy puffy over being called a bitch realize it’s just a female dogs and you throw the dog term around for men even more freely.

On that note, congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Smith, may you forever feel the burn of being eviscerated in a literary fashion. Mr. Smith, may you live happily and blissfully in ignorance to what happened in your absence.

Thanks and good night all!