So, you say you can't find a suitable girlfriend? Just when you think she’s the perfect one and you're ready to anoint her goddess extraordinaire and about to pledge your undying faith (on weekends) and commit to her on an almost full-time basis – and then ask her if she can invite her best friend over for a tri-bangathon – a major red flag goes up and she commits a major faux pas, e.g. she won't sew your name tag on your underwear before you go to summer camp.

You toss her back in the sea and throw the proverbial line back in the water for another fishy, complaining to your friends that she just wasn't enough like my mom.

Warning! Stop, not in the name of love, but in the name of some kind of shit that goes down in the South every day. Proceed to the nearest shrink, do not pass go. Yes, you have crossed over into Oedipusville – you want to murder your father so you can sleep with your mother. Can you say: Jerry Springer material?

You don't want to know how Oedipus' story ended...yet.

Chances are, your dirt is buried so deep you may not even know it exists. But, if you go through a quiver of women as fast as George W. Bush lacerates the English syntax, “Houston, we may have a problem.”

Yeah, your rocket wants to blast off in the wrong direction and the command post needs to turn your ship around and de-program that incest-infested vessel before you end up challenging Pa to a Battle of the Foreskins™. And then wind up being tried in a court by your own peers. (I don't know about you, but our peers speak perfect English and are clever enough to never have to serve on a jury.)

It's a fact: some of us like our mothers, others of us despise them. Actually, let us put it in an equation for those of you who excelled at math better than English:

You + Older Women = You did not get the proper mommy-ing in your life. You are seeking compensation, therefore the incessant hanging out at the nursing home.

You + Any Woman Who is Not Enough = Chances are you actually liked your mom and have set the bar too high for an average woman. By average, we mean, psychotic, of course.

Okay, okay, so now you're wondering: Is there any way to find a healthy relationship?

And, we say, yes! But you need to constantly repeat these affirmations to yourself:

1. My mom is good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, I love her. As for my girlfriend...well she's okay, and that's...okay...for now.

2. No matter how many wombs I spend a lifetime trying to climb into, I will never emerge out again from my mommy's and have free passage to ride the nipple of my choice.

3. Click your heels three times: There is no such thing as perfection, there is no such thing as perfection…There’s also no such thing as a Maude for you Harold, a Mrs. Robinson for you Benjamin, a Siegfried for you Roy…

If the above fails to help you, then g'head, make your own bed, Oeddy: Slay your father, marry your mother, and then when you find her hung in the bedroom, you can use her broaches to blind yourself. Not how you used to blind yourself in junior high – with the National Geographic. Nope, this one will be ugly and make your self-imposed exile to the bat cave a dark and disturbing experience.



"Can someone, anyone, please direct me to the crap hole?"

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Recommended reading:

Beware the Cockblocker