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UBT: The Sugar Daddy

gloriousNew York magazine runs a feature called “Sex Diaries,” sort of like Penthouse forum but without the improving articles. Readers anonymously send in details of their sex-lives — “with comic, tragic, often sexy, and always revealing results.” 

The other week, a 42-year-old corporate trader shared his hijinks with a much younger Sugar Baby. (Which could be a post all its own — why the treacly euphemism for sex workers? Should we name all professionals after popular candies? “Cancel my afternoon appointments, Marion. I have a meeting with a Milk Dud.”)

Anyway… today the Universal Bullshit Translator is tackling the Married Trader and his Sugar Baby.

4:45 a.m. I am a trader, and I live in Chappaqua, so I wake up at the ass crack of dawn and sneak out of the house without waking the wife or kids. They prefer it this way since it’s so damn early.

7 a.m. First Starbucks triple latte of the day. Settled into my desk. Let’s go!

4:20 p.m. The market was not my friend. Get me the fuck home.

Did you have a bad day, Boo Boo? Do you need a friend? I think we could buy you a few.

UBT: I work hard for the money and am a considerate family man who lets small children sleep. My one small pleasure is a frothy caffeinated beverage. Behold my suffering! And pity me. 


4:45 a.m. Same evil wake-up call. I’ve been doing this for 20 years; you’d think I’d be used to it. You’d also think I’d be richer. We just moved out here to the ‘burbs. It’s a big house in the safest possible neighborhood. The wife likes it. My two young children like it. Me? I’m not about to run for mayor, but I don’t need to burn the town down, either.

4:30 p.m. Every other Tuesday, I go to physical therapy for an old back injury. But the wife thinks I go every Tuesday. This is not a PT Tuesday. This is a Brie Tuesday. Brie is my special ladyfriend: We met at a fundraiser about six months ago, and she is 24. It is pure sex. And money. She’s not a proper escort, but she might as well be.

U-huh. You met at a fundraiser. Sure. And the UBT is a chocolate-covered pretzel.

Because that’s how it goes — you sidle up to some young thing at the Save Dyslexic Quakers gala and whisper, “Care to be my biweekly fuck for money?” And she’s in total accord with your wishes. Every OTHER Tuesday? Yes, she’s free!

UBT: Brie is my special ladyfriend. The kind of special I have to pay to touch me.

5 p.m. We meet at a midtown hotel and quickly down two dirty martinis each at the bar — it’s a solid routine. We never touch at the bar because, in case I’m ever spotted, I have a pre-rehearsed story that Brie is my niece. My real niece goes to Columbia, so it would make perfect sense if it ever got back to the wifey. The hotel is also right near my physical therapy, so I’m covered that way.

It would make perfect sense that I would drink cocktails at a hotel with my college-age niece. No one would find that creepy or unusual at all!  Doting uncle is the perfect disguise! No one would ever suspect me of paying for sex! 

The UBT thinks someone slipped some stupid in your drink.

5:30 p.m. In the hotel room, I always go down on Brie for as long as she lets me. Today it’s about 15 minutes. I love her pussy. It is very pretty and smells like cotton candy. We have sex missionary-style on the hotel bed and come together after about 12 minutes, if I’m being honest.

Brie fakes her orgasms.

5:42 p.m. I take a quick shower.

Gotta wash all the cheater juice off before I go home to wifey. 

5:50 p.m. I give Brie $600 after every time I see her. This is because (1) she handles the hotel room, which can cost up to $350, (2) she has to cab it to Brooklyn, where she lives, and (3) I’m happy to give her spending cash. She is a part-time nanny for a Park Slope family and doesn’t make a lot. I’m no fool, I know it sounds like she’s a hooker, but it’s really not like that. And if it is, fuck it, I don’t care.

I’m not paying a hooker! I’m giving a part-time nanny some spending money! It makes perfect sense that a woman who earns $600 per half hour would spend the rest of her non-biweekly-Tuesday time babysitting small children for crap wages. 

She’s just that kind of selfless, crazy kid! Don’t spend it all on comic books, okay Brie? 

7:30 p.m. Home. Wife and kids are so preoccupied with bath time that I don’t have to lie about what I did at PT … because no one asks.

I’m a sad sausage. No one asked me about my day with the hooker. They don’t love me. Ergo, I should see hookers.

9 p.m. I go to bed hours before my wife. All good in the hood.


4:45 a.m. Motherfuckin’ alarm.

12 p.m. It’s been a tumultuous day, work-wise.

4:30 p.m. Get me out of Dodge and straight to … SLT. I love SLT.

6:30 p.m. I meet the family for pizza in the town next door. My kids are my life. And no, I don’t think about Brie at all. I’m able to fuck her every other Tuesday and leave it at that. No texting. No sexting. No missing each other. No trouble.

As long as everyone stays in their place, everything is fine. Family pizza night/hooker night. Can’t mix it up, or it’s like when pizza delivery goes wrong and all the toppings slide off and slosh around. Family pizza night cheese cannot touch hooker Tuesday pineapple. Chaos will reign.

10:30 p.m. When all the kids are asleep, my wife and I cuddle in bed. I have a massive boner. We’ve been together for a decade, so the sex isn’t what it was, but it’s still pretty good. Last year I got “snipped,” so we’re still enjoying the freedom of that. I fuck her from behind while rubbing her clit hard, around and around, how she likes it. Brief flashes of Brie, but nothing I can’t handle.

You have an affectionate wife, who turns you on, a good job, and a lovely family. Yeah, your life just sucks. I think you deserve MORE.


4:45 a.m. Fuck my tedious life.

12 p.m. Market blows.

5 p.m. Drinks with a buddy down in Tribeca. He says his new girlfriend is coming in a little while. This guy is in the middle of a gnarly divorce, so I’m glad to see he’s getting some … in the butt. Yep, he and new girl are into ass-play, he tells me. Mostly hers, a little his. Whatever floats your boat, brah.

6 p.m. I just can’t take his new ladyfriend seriously knowing she likes to take it in the tushy.

I can’t respect a slut who likes anal sex. But a woman who takes money for sex? Hand that special lady friend $600, I say! 

9 p.m. On the Metro-North home, I’m just glad to be married.

I’m sure your wife is just thrilled to not have you arrive home until after 9 p.m. I’m sure her life is never “fucking tedious” staying home with kids.

UBT: I’m just glad for cake. 

4:45 a.m. I look at my phone, and there’s a voice-mail from “Joseph Hedgefund.” Guess who Joseph Hedgefund is? It’s the name of a certain soft cheese. Brie must have drunk-dialed me late last night. In the past, this would have really pissed me off, but I’m too tired to get riled up at the moment.

6:30 a.m. I listen to her message from the car: She is wasted and says she wants to see me and to “choke” — on my cock. We’ve done some bondage stuff before — it’s mostly me getting whipped and emasculated and shit, but sometimes we tie her up, too. She has more than once requested to choke on my cock, so I shove it down her throat until she’s all drooling and lightly gagging. For some reason she loves it. Fun times.

She calls me to request sex. I’m sure it’s because she can’t get enough of my cock and not because she needs money.

5 p.m. I’m meeting the wife and kids at our place in the Berkshires straight from work, so I head there as soon as the market closes. I can’t wait to play with my kids all weekend.

8 p.m. Wife has made spaghetti and meatballs, and there’s a Chianti open. We play with the kids, put everyone to sleep, and make love.

Fuck my tedious life! 


8 a.m. Oh, sleep, I love you. I fucking love you.

12 p.m. We play outside all day. Tag, hide-and-seek, etc.

4 p.m. We go into town for Chinese food — my kids go crazy for Chinese food. Looking at my wife and spawn, I’m a happy man. These happy, healthy days make me wonder if the Brie thing is in fact a good thing for my marriage. It’s just the right release to keep things balanced.

It’s not cheating, it’s BALANCE.

A balance of power in my favor.


9 a.m. Sleep, marry me.

3 p.m. Another missed call from Joseph Hedgefund. Now I’m getting pissed. I’ve been up front about my situation and limitations from the start. In the voice-mail, she says she got tickets to some comedy show during the week, and do I want to join her? Please, Jesus, don’t let this woman start going crazy on me. Please. When I fill the car with gas, I send her a text that says, “No more messages, please, please, please, this is serious.” And then — wait for it — I type, “See you next Tuesday.”

7 p.m. Back home. Back to the grind tomorrow. And that’s my life.

Crazy woman and her cultural events! How dare she text me! Doesn’t she know she’s a bi-weekly orifice?

I’m sorry Babe, there’s just only so much of me to go around. I give my best to my spawn and wifey. But I can choke you with my cock on Tuesday.

Calendar it.

This column ran previously.

Ask Chump Lady

Got a question for the Chump Lady? Or a submission for the Universal Bullshit Translator? Write to me at Read more about submission guidelines.
  • It’s proof how utterly banal cheating is, isn’t it? I know you’ve run this before, and every time I read it, I just think, “Dude, you’re pathetic *and* unoriginal.”

    (I realize this could be a fake letter, but it reads like so much like what chumps here have been through, so who knows? The self-justification certainly rings true.)

  • This could be a journal entry of my x’s—It’s so close it’s eerie. Trade in “doctor” and it’s practically plagiarism! He even told our kids the $500 he paid his “sugar baby” isn’t what it looks like: prostitution. Because being paid for sex is prostitution, no matter how it’s worded.

    • My brother was arrested for solicitation. I gave him HELL. The ex relished this happening for gossip purposes. At this point I never discussed anything with him because he’d twist everything against me. I’ll never support that lifestyle but I made it a point to direct him to the fact he was only putting himself at risk as he’d never been married.
      Jaw drop as his response was along the lines of I never go cheap. 500 is the minimum for one. I later heard he hired multiple at the same time. I’ll remember that forever.
      My brother passed away shortly after that leaving me just enough money to hire an attorney to leave the ex. He hated the way he treated us.
      I won’t get into everything the ex asked for or thought he would benefit from his death but thankfully it was nothing.

    • There is an entire genre of romance novels starring doctors. It makes me gag, after decades of watching those creeps in medical school and residency and practice. If ever there was a profession that was made for adulterers, a profession FILLED with adulterers, medicine is it. No way a doctor would ever be sexy, romantic, or appealing to any female physician who has watched them in action. They have the perfect cover for cheating: that pager they all wear. “Honey, I’ve got to run to the hospital! See you later!” “Honey, I’ve got to go back to the office and do some paperwork!” “Honey, looks like I’ll be here all night – OR is backed up”. I have personally sat in labor and delivery and watched a ‘respected’ colleague juggle two cell phones and a blackberry while talking to his wife, his mistress, and the hospital switchboard simultaneously. Mind-numbingly common.

      • You’re absolutely right. It’s gross. I fell for all of those excuses. In the end, he blamed his late nights (til 9pm!) on having trouble with EMR (electronic medical records). He’s a slow typist. But wait. He had Dragon (speech to text), which I set up on his computer. Dammit. Why didn’t I question that?

        I feel like an idiot for falling for those excuses.

        I have a theory about some of those docs. I think there are some, like my ex, who were nerdy and couldn’t get a date in high school and college. But, lo and behold, they become docs and find that women “want” them. It goes to their heads. They feel they missed out by not sleeping around earlier. They deserve this! Boundaries/barriers fall. They flirt with all the nurses, secretaries, and drug reps. It’s SO easy and intoxicating.

        My ex said he “lost his 20s” because he was so busy becoming a physician. Mind you, we were married when he was 25, and I was 23, but these are minor details that get in the way of the sad-sausage, I-gave-my-life for medicine story.

        He gets together with a small group of his med school male friends every summer. They’re all in their 60s now. These aging docs sit around drinking while trading stories about the nurses they “nailed” back in the day. “Oh, you did her, too?” Laughter ensues.

        It’s disgusting.

        I’m so upset that I was so blind to all of it for years.

        • I have been in medicine for 27 years and I can assure you; even if we were both single, there is not one physician I would consider sleeping with. When you deal with them for 12 plus hours a day and see their true colors, there is NO CHANCE of attraction.

  • While mine wasn’t nearly this bad, I also got the “I thought she was good for our marriage” when discussing the beginning of his EA. Uh, you thought the 23 yo you would disappear all night to talk to was good for our marriage? Yes, he did, because he wanted to give her flowers and thought, “hey, maybe I should get my wife flowers too.” AND, he got her a present for her birthday, which was a month before mine, which made him think (this is word for word) “I got this girl a really nice thoughtful gift for her birthday, I should probably think about getting something my wife would this was thoughtful too”. It’s unfortunate because he did get me something that I thought was one of the most thoughtful presents he had given me in 20 years (the only other gift that I truly cherished and stood out was 14 years ago during Christmas), which promptly went in the trash when we separated because she became the love of his life.

    • When klootzak bought one of his APs and her kids a big box of presents (jewelry – for her AND her teenage daughter who I suspect he was grooming, Christmas ornaments, etc.), he tried to say she was a nice person he knew through his sex addiction group and he was just being nice. I asked him when was the last time he bought gifts like that for any men and their kids and he went silent.

      He had bought me one small glass ornament but bought her three large ornaments shaped like hearts with ornate gold and crystal. He bought our child a wooden train suitable for a younger child. He bought her kids necklaces, model cars, and remote controlled helicopters. I’m glad it wasn’t anything great and it was easy to toss out. The train sat in my son’s closet gathering dust for over a year until I asked him if he was OK with me purging it during a room cleaning and he said sure. I was so glad to be rid of the gifts he bought out of feeling obligated.

      Oh, and just recently klootzak went on a trip and came back with Lego kits for our son. One set was a space thing which the kid loves. The other was a set for a younger child (bigger blocks) and apparently for one who likes pink, purple, and cute little pets. So I am guessing it was purchased for someone’s little girl but klootzak didn’t get a chance to give it to her before leaving town so he gave it to our son. Kiddo had no interest in it. He attended a party of a classmate and I asked him if we should purchase a hostess gift for her. He volunteered to give her the Lego pets set. If klootzak keeps giving our son gifts that make no sense, I think our chils is going to catch on – if he hasn’t already – that something doesn’t add up.

      • The narcissistic ugliness of their behavior towards their very own children is mind-blowing. I can accept that they replace us with newer models, but how in fuck’s name do you replace your own child?

        My rage knows no bounds when it comes to the rotten way they treat their kids.

    • My ex rarely ever remembered my birthday, but the ccard showed three years of bday gifts and valentines gifts among other monies spent for the whore.

      In fact he took pride in not remembering my bday. He used the old; I just don’t think of those things and valentines day is just a made up holiday as his excuse. I can getting flowers only twice in our 21 years together. First, the day our son was born (he was in Vietnam and had them ordered) two Sep 6, 1988. My birthday is 6 October. He called me right after they were delivered and said “since I always forget your birthday, I though I would send them to you a month early” I was so pleased. He drop kicked me to the curb Dec 12 of 1989.

      I am guessing those were flowers to throw me off the trail until he could get his promotion and get the property he wanted bought the following summer.

      He knew if all his shit had been exposed before his promotion he would have never got it. (she was his direct report).

  • I watched Lisa King’s This Is Life last night. A new episode about sex work.
    The angle of the story, completely overlooked, were the effects of sex workers on people who are unknowingly partnered with people who patronize sex workers.

    All of the adults involved and affected are not necessarily consenting.

    It definitely got me thinking.

    • I live near a major highway corridor. Young women are trafickked along this corridor and not enough is done to help them. The criminals that run these rings have addicted and degraded these girls so badly that they have zero self worth. Half of the young women are of First Nations backgrounds.

      People are whining about having to wear a mask, while these young women are being tortured for profit in their own back yards

      Men use these women to act out sick things they see on porn sites. The indepedant happy hooker idea is a fantasy that is used to cover up the purile reality of the majority of the sex trade.

      • My x showed me a disturbing porn video of a young teen (he’d put “teen Latina” in the pornhub search engine) being strangled and raped. She was crying and gagging. I threw up. He told me to “grow up” and that he’d find willing prostitutes to do this if I didn’t. We were on a marriage saving get-a-way prescribed by our marriage counselor. I was terrified he’d choke me in the night in our hotel room. This man is a doctor who preys on drug addicted, marginalized prostitutes.

        • I’m horrified just reading what you were exposed to. I would have run screaming. What a disgusting pig. I hope you have been able to go total NC. People like him are walking nightmares.

        • What a sick creeper. He belongs in prison.

          Did the marriage counselor know he was a rapist who preyed on hookers and still prescribed this get-away?

          • No, she didn’t realize how bad it was at that time. She did call me, the session after, to tell me she had contacted her legal counsel to see if she was required to report him as a mandated reporter. Apparently she was told it could hurt my divorce case. Protect the perverts at all costs.

        • Faithful

          ???? WTF
          I think at some point they cross the line
          of “ normal” and there is no stopping them
          For me the comment “ I would like to put a plastic bag on your head when we fuck, that would be exciting “ was the final straw….

          In my case, my h was “ helping prostitutes” by taking them for dinners, lunches, listening to their stories ( and fucking them of course)
          Creepy as hell…

      • So, women are just props scattered around this man’s life. He is the human being at the center, and everything else is either of use to him in the moment, or it’s in the background, waiting to be of use to him later.

        (By the way, at 5:30, he says he goes down on her. This lasts for 15 minutes. Then they have missionary sex for 12 minutes. Although that would put him at 5:57, he takes a shower at 5:42. Where did her 15 minutes of pleasure go? Even if this is just a story and the time written is a mistake, it’s a pretty telling one.)

        Andrea Dworkin, that “crazy radical feminist,” thought pornography was complicit in violence against women because it’s dehumanizing. Crazy like Copernicus, she was.

        What I find concerning is how commonplace and accessible even the most disturbing images are. I wonder how the brains of our children and grandchildren are being shaped by what they see.

        In this sense, pornography becomes a form of propaganda. It reminds me of those Nazi films that cut in images of rats with pictures of Jews. The message is the same: these people (Jews, wives, prostitutes) are not really human.

        If, in your mind, you turn a person into an object, then hurting them becomes much easier. Since objects don’t have feelings, empathy is not an obstacle. And we all know what a nightmare it is to deal with someone who has no empathy for you.

        Cheating, pornography, human trafficking (aka slavery), sexist violence, propaganda, The New Yorker story – all of this is uncomfortably connected.

  • Wow! Seems like he knows what he’s doing. Can’t go back years later and say, “I didn’t know who I was. How did I become that person? I don’t remember the details……….” He needs a hobby and not a fuck buddy. Maybe he should take up scrapbooking. Seriously doubt “wifey” would think his secret PT appointment is healthy for the marriage. ????

  • I hate the concept of cheating being entertainment. It has ruined Hallmark Christmas Movies for me. I hate it that I woke up thinking about LTC Fuckface He is now contesting my property list he agreed to open court. I’m sure his 32 year old side side piece or his 50 year old HoWorker wants my things. The HoWorker has admired my belongings for years. Yes, that whore has been up in my house. I hosted Holiday events for his office at our home for years. I hate it that his cheating is profitable for my lawyer. But most of all I hate all of his fat cheater guts. Why won’t evil die?

    I have new standards. If I know you are a cheater you are dead to me. I don’t find infidelity or any other abuse entertaining. This sugar daddy is a psychopath.

    • I also hate that cheating as a “whoops, no biggie” trope runs rampant in popular entertainment. It really sours a book or a movie for me.

      • Me too! There are so many movies that I cannot watch & I just rid myself of a popular author’s book series because of this.

        The first book in the series was great… husband cheats, wife begins divorce, he crawls back & she tells him to get lost. Yay! BUT, each series book following this one had a “forgive the cheater” narrative. No thank you! I just cannot stomach it anymore.

      • Here are some excellent movies that tell the truth about cheating:

        Happiness, by the incredible Agnès Varda. A critic called it a “horror movie.”
        Gaslight. The film that is the basis of the term “gaslighting,” with Ingrid Bergman.
        Dodsworth, with Walter Huston. For male chumps. So good.

        These are all old movies, if you’re into that.

        • Also, The Tribes of Palos Verdes. It’s not old (stars Jennifer Garner, I believe) and is relentless in its depiction of how destructive cheating is.

          Trigger warning: if you’re not at meh, you might want to wait on this one.

  • A non cheating story.

    My uncle and I work in different branches of the same industry. There is a huge trade show annually held in Las Vegas. His attendance is mandatory. I usually don’t go but one year my largest client wanted to attend. They asked me and a few representatives from my company to be there and of course we were happy to oblige. So off we fly to Vegas and check into our hotel.

    We made arrangements to meet in the lobby for dinner. As I’m waiting for coworkers to gather I hear a familiar voice and see Uncle “Mike” who is 35 years older then me . It turns out we were both at the same trade show and staying in the same hotel! He gave me a big hug and with his arm around me, introduced me to his coworkers. He said, “I’m probably the only guy in Las Vegas who can say that he’s having a drink with his “niece” and have that be a true statement!”

    Here’s to stand up decent people who also have a great sense of humor ????

  • When I read this the first time, I couldn’t believe how much it replicated my Wall Street FW’s life. Always looking for sympathy for his early mornings and long days, even though it was nothing I had ever asked of him. I actually wanted to spend time with him rather than have him be a workaholic every day. But his family always made a big deal of how hard everyone worked – think overtime on holidays, 12 hour workdays, etc.

    Someone suggested I hire a PI to confirm my suspicions. The PI recorded him walking into a hotel in the horse farm lands of NJ, then driving to an expensive restaurant where he met up with her. Afterwards they returned in their own cars to the hotel. Guess how long from the time they walked into the hotel to the time he walked her out? That’s right – exactly an hour. The only difference is she was 50 at the time to his 60. They are still together 3 years later. They only see each other once a week or every other week as she is out of state. And he has never mentioned her to the now adult kids. (They know he cheated) Who knows if she wants more from him – I didn’t.

  • Well, that was an interesting read. Super crass as well, but that makes sense considering the intended audience for the magazine. It was intended to be a bit of an autobiographical, titillating adventure. To me, having been “the wife,” it read like a horror movie script.

    The entitlement! The bemoaning about how dull his life with his reliable employment and loving family was! My FW could have written that. In fact, one of the reoccurring themes in his love letters to his first secret girlfriend was how boring his life was, married with kids to me, and how the predictability of me having supper ready for him every day he came home from work was driving him crazy! He didn’t know how much more mediocrity he could take!

    I look back on those days now with more UBT in my eyes than I used to have. Poor baby. A reliable job, two healthy kids, and a wife who genuinely loves you, suspects nothing is wrong, and who knows you work hard every day and tries to make sure that she, at least, has supper on the table each night for you. *Shakes head* How could I not see the horrors that FW, or here in the CL post, the Sugar Daddy, was going through?!

    I’ll stop being sarcastic now but Sugar Daddy and my XFW sound remarkably similar in nature: bored and entitled. The kind of person who lumps the lived experience of being married to someone who loves them with other daily drudgery like taking out the trash or having to get up early for work.

    It didn’t escape me that nearly throughout the entire letter to the magazine, Sugar Daddy here kept devaluing and distancing himself from his family: the kids, the wife, the wife, the wifey, the wife, the wife, etc. It wasn’t until the very end that he claimed a kinship with them and I saw the fleeting phrases “my kids” and “my wife.” It stood out like blood on a snowbank; he must have been cycling back to the boring, safe, reliable comfort of the family nest the day he wrote that. Every other time he used the phrase “the wife” an empathic stake was driven into my heart for that woman who, like me once upon a time, didn’t realize that she wasn’t “his wife” anymore… just “the wife.”

    • “Every other time he used the phrase “the wife” an empathic stake was driven into my heart for that woman who, like me once upon a time, didn’t realize that she wasn’t “his wife” anymore… just “the wife.””

      THIS! I remember the devastation on the day that I saw that he had updated my contact info in his phone. I went from “wifey” with our wedding photo to just my name only. Talk about a punch in the gut! I never liked the wifey thing, but seeing it removed absolutely broke me.

      • Wow. I relate so hard to going from Wifey to Name. It was so hurtful. This was before Dday that I happen to call him when he couldn’t find his phone. and when I asked him he claimed his phone upgrade changed it (while leaving everything else the same??) Yet he left it just like that. After Dday I asked him several times to just be honest about changing my contact info and he maintains the same story.

        It seems so small but it’s one of those little things that just clicked in my head after Dday

    • Wow, you and others pointing out that he called his wife and kids, “the wife”, “the kids”; I never noticed that the first time I read this post.

      Years ago, the XH was asked if he wanted to contribute to his college alumni magazine; an update of his success post graduation. He fancies himself some great and clever writer. He asked me to read it before he submitted it. The entire article was about his typical day going to work, working and then going home. His loving wife and children were named as “the family” in the last paragraph. The exact sentence is, “I think of dinnertime with the family……….” The entire article was about him, his job and his coworkers. After reading the article, my heart sank and I felt that awful feeling in my stomach. But I didn’t dare say anything to him about my disappointment that he didn’t see success as having a loving, beautiful family. If I did say something, I’d be met with rage and a comment from him like, “I can’t do anything right!!” I kept my mouth shut and told him his article was good or something like that. I read other articles submitted from other alumni. Yes, of course they talked about their jobs. But the ones that were married and had children, also talked about their families and submitted happy family photos. The XH submitted a photo of himself at work and a photo of what his company makes.

      So, yeah. The wife, the kids, the family = we are just props/appliances in the cheaters lives. That’s why they can swap out “the wife” for another “the wife” overnight.

      • Yes. Exactly.

        I have made a conscious decision to refer to my former husband as “the ex” instead of “my ex.” I almost never say “your father” on the rare occasions when I speak of him to my adult children. They don’t want to be reminded of the sperm donor anyway.

        • Yes, today a had lightbulb moment and going forward the XH is going to be called “the ex” or “the dad”. One more step closer to Tuesday! 🙂 Or maybe today is actually my Tuesday? 🙂

          • The rare occasions I mention ex to my son I refer to him by his first name.
            I’d be lying if I referred to ex as your Dad or father. It would also be demeaning to all the men who are actual Dad’s and father’s.

            I always felt as if I was training two children one a spoiled, self centered. jealous teenager bully to his much younger brother (our son).

      • “I can’t do anything right!” The DARVO attack which ends the conversation at home and begins the conversation with the OW. Fuckers.

      • “The family”, I’ve heard people say this and I would cringe but never thought about why. It does objectify one’s spouse and children. It makes family seem like an obligation. Pretty sure I’ve been referred to as the wife and ole ball and chain, one of those “I just joking” digs of a narcissist.

      • Your story is similar, so similar to mine. It was all about him. Not our family. You mention he raged. Yes. I’m still numb. You also mentioned the gaslighting. The shutting up and saying his article was good. For me, it was that his sermon was good.
        Thanks for sharing-it helps me

    • I also noticed how he got a dig in at the mistress with his “…wait for it…See you next Tuesday” remark. He just called her a c**t (*C U Next Tuesday). I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked Tuesdays for their trysts based on that alone.
      Zero respect for anyone.

      • Yeah I noticed that one too! Too bad he’s not more clever.
        Pretty soon his wife will find out about the cheating and his wish will be granted! Life will be anything but predictable for him, trust. I hope he gets everything he deserves.

    • Any man who calls his wife “the wife” is disgusting and entitled, IMHO. WASband didn’t do that to me until the end. But he had plenty of misogynistic friends who referred to this spouses like that and I never cared for them for that and other reasons. I think it’s rude and condescending. And yes, I call him WASband. Never MY former husband, never MY ex. Because I believe things I call “my” (friends, home, family, etc) are precious to me. Makes me wanna puke.

      • Not to mention referring to his kids as his spawn.

        THE ex used to refer to our kids that way. He’s now basically disowned our oldest and will most likely abandon the youngest as well, once she is no longer useful for image management.

        Referring to your own kids as your spawn is now a red flag to me.

      • Holy moly, it just occurred to me that the ex did this with me too. The last few months he started mentioning “the wife” here and there. I’d roll my eyes at it, but looking back… wow.

  • Loving family, nice home (plus weekend place in Berkshires), well paying job, with enough leisure time to go out for drinks with friends several nights a week, but poor baby has to wake up early, so no wonder he has to cheat with someone half his age? It’s appalling, but all too familiar, to see how he justifies his selfishness, entitlement and lack of remorse as “good” for “his” marriage (because really, it’s all about HIM).

  • Notice his use of the dehumanized term, “the wife.” He doesn’t even say, “my wife.” He could be talking about the lawnmower or the vacuum cleaner or any other object he uses. And it IS dehumanizing and belittling, makng a joke of her, like “the old ball and chain.” He can’t even bring himself to say my wife.
    I’d like to say a belated thankyou to the many writers who gave such phenomenal responses to the last column on sexting and online affairs. They shared so many great insights.

    • Exactly. Makes me sick. Everyone is an object of utility to him, including his “spawn”, who he plays hide and seek with on weekends away to prove he’s a great dad. Typical Disney Dad cheater.

      My fuckwit was like that as well. He did fun things with the kids and left the grunt work of parenting to me. He didn’t call me “the wife”, he just used to first initial of my name when speaking of me in order to devalue me. His kids too. We didn’t have
      names, just product designations. I saw this in emails to his whore and scumbag friends and I was horrified by the cold objectification of his family. It helped me to realize I had nothing to work with.

      These entitled pigs should all die in agony.

  • This made me queasy.

    As far as I know, my ex did not pay for sex with a younger woman. But every other element of entitlement, deceit, gaslighting, devaluing had to exist for his sexual relationship with the OW.

    Added to that was the conspiracy, as they caused the end of my 30 year marriage and planned their future. And then the retreat from responsibility, leaving it to me to file for divorce.

    There is no honor or entertainment with infidelity.

  • It brings to mind the reality of woman being an commodity to be bought

    A bored man can rent a woman

    There is no recongnition that the majority of the sex trade involves men exploiting and destroying the lives of vulnerable young women

    • Yes, “rent a woman.” With “the wife” being “leased” like a car, and subject to “upgrading to a newer model.”

  • “The wife”, “the wifey”,”my spawn”.

    Words of objectification and devaluation. But oh, his “spawn” are his life. Yeah, right. What a disgusting piece of shit.

    He admits to using no protection with his wife and it sounds like no condoms with the hooker either. But wait! She’s not a hooker. Or if she is, so what? He has a boring job and has to get up early. The oppression! Okay, maybe 75% of the other people on planet earth do the same and get paid almost nothing for it. But he’s a speshul snowfwake and needs to fuck soft cheese nannyho to relieve the agony of being bored with his aimless, self centered and entitled existence.

    A barf bag warning should come with this article.

  • Thank you CL for reminding me of the repulsive people out there who act this way. I mean, they’ll break your heart in exchange for a BJ or wherever “floats your boat brah”.
    How much viagra does that guy ingest?
    Single life is waaaay better than being with trash like that, I hope his wife finds this site if she ever becomes aware.

  • I’ve read this article before with one of my many google searches. It was insightful to see the mindset of these cheaters, and how for them it’s 100% about them no thought of how he is ruining his marriage, how his wife may feel (or her unknown exposure to stis). How many times I was the wife in this story, doing all the things for the children and him so he could “work”. Only for him to return drunk from power of cheating. The cheating is only one aspect of how these people are scum, they are abuser, power hungry controllers. Mine is so much so that I’ve been trying to get a separation and him out of our home for over 1 year. The rabbit hole of problems is usually deeper than the cheating.

  • Yet another sign of the times. Nothing new under the sun. Hedonism is dominant in society while the print, tech, screen and social media promotes it day and night. Living life in pursuit of ultimate pleasure to the exclusion of wisdom and fellow humanity brings decay and destruction. Life has a noble purpose, most of which is lost on wayward souls. Watch what you entertain in the heart for it will surely corrupt the mind. Dead men/women walking are everywhere. Today’s story highlights only one…

  • Gun Friday Challenge suggestion: Write Brie’s letter to New York Magazine…

    DAY 1. Alarm goes off at 4:45 am. I’m a Nanny for a family in Park Slope and which is far away form my shitty apartment in Queens. They expect me there at 6 to help getting the older children off to school. Public transportation sucks. Our rent is due in a few days and my I’m short. Crap. I never thought I’d still be doing this at 26.

    Day 2. It’s Tuesday. Ugh. What is it with men and chocking things with their cocks? It’s just a penis, dude. Half the world has one.

  • May his back never heal. Let that ache be a reminder of what a pain he is 24/7. And May that pain progress daily. Forever.

  • I look forward to the second installment. This would be where “wife” finds out. Leavrs him. Gets the house. And at least half his trader money

    There is no awareness at all that he is risking his marriage or his family. Or any potential sense of protection towards his children. Arrogance is overwhelming

    Do you think New York magazine would publish that ?
    Life destroying consequences are not entertaining to read

  • From the wife’s perspective:

    4:30 p.m. Every other Tuesday, he goes to physical therapy for an old back injury. He thinks I think that he goes every Tuesday. I did at first, but I became suspicious when the PT office called one day to reschedule. On the advice of a new friend I’ve met in Chappaqua, I hired a PI. When I learned that he’s been cheating, I was devastated. I’m still reeling, but I know I need to pretend all is well until I can get all my ducks in a row and file for divorce. I still can’t believe he did this to me! I also can’t believe how stupid he is to meet with this sex worker in public! She’s half his age. Unbelievable!

    I’ve hired a lawyer. We’ve been meeting every Tuesday. So convenient.

    I’ll have my FW served while he’s having drinks at the hotel bar…on a Tuesday, of course.

    It will be just the release I need.

    • Spinach, love it. This while issue is just so disgusting and deceitful. I know I should not try to figure things out, but why can’t these people just be honest and say “hey, I don’t want this life any more, let’s end our relationship because I want to be with a 24 year old rather than with you”. Maybe not what anyone would want to hear but at least it is not putting the chump in a position to get STDs, having to live with lies, become the marriage police and all the other things that a DDay brings. At least the marriage could end in honesty.
      The sense of entitlement is just so great……..

      • I agree with you. But, at least at first, they don’t really want to end their marriages. As CL says, they want cake (the spouse AND the AP). The power imbalance must be intoxicating.

        One thing revealed by this trader/traitor is that many of these people have perfectly fine marriages. But they see an opportunity to grab more for themselves. And they feel entitled to these side dishes. They justify it all. I need balance! A release!! Mine said: she flirted; we bonded over taking care of sick patients. I just fell in love!

        After Dday, and if they feel the monkey branch will hold their full weight, I’m convinced that they reverse engineer reasons–dead bedroom, no love, fight all the time. “I should have ended it 10 years ago,” my ex intoned. Ten years ago, he got my initials tattooed to his thigh.. Funny way to show he was miserable.

        • I do not doubt that they use the same playbook. I did the pick me dance and I finally was able to see how much he enjoyed it. Wow, he kibbles he got. Then I stopped. I reached the end of my rope. I saw the texts of how he didn’t love me, maybe he never did and the references as the wife. I knew I was just an appliance.
          Now he is a sad sausage who left the house, the adult son will not speak to him and he is reaping what he sowed. Process is still going on and knowing that he won’t get everything is making even more sad. Oh well, he made a choice. He can always go with Schmoopie until the money runs out and so does she.

      • Because being divorced is much harder and more expensive than remaining married to a wife appliance and fucking around in the side. The wife appliance cleans your home, makes you dinners, and watches your children. When you are divorced, you are forced to clean your own place, make your own dinners, AND being responsible for your kids up to half the time is often a big increase from what it was before. Plus, if it was a long marriage, your wife is entitled to half your assets.

        • Maybe the next issue will have the following part of his story where he runs the “cost analysis” of staying married to “the wife” appliance vs getting a divorce and moving in with soft cheese. $600 every other week vs half of the houses, child and spousal support plus attorney fees, plus apartment rent, hiring help because fuck if he’s going to wash his own socks… that’s probably going to be a very short chapter…

      • Entitled pricks. I think they fly high on the idea that they “can have it all” – the sexual adventures of the old Playboy/Penthouse readers or the abusive adventures on PornHub AND a reputation for being a loving husband with devoted wife and family at home.

  • The idea of this asshole taking advantage of a young, economically stressed woman is infuriating. He needs a thorough Wiseguys-style ass kicking. But almost as upsetting is the possibility that she is a willing accomplice in an economic/entertainment exchange regardless of who gets hurt. I think the latter is less likely, but I am confident my cheating ex wife for example did as bad or worse willingly, happily. She thought it made her cool, sexy, and sophisticated. In the end it destroyed my family and my sons’ family. She would’ve welcomed the chance to write about her sexual “adventures” for Cosmopolitan or The Independent.

    Some days it’s just hard to bear the thought of so very many sociopaths in this world.

  • a diary from the wife, a real one, an honest one, would be much more interesting.

    i’m exhausted. i’m always exhausted from the busy weekends (so. many. activities), and i’m relieved when he leaves for work and the kids for school. then i can breath and remember i’m someone else other than wife or mom. it feels like i hardly own my own body anymore, someone is always touching it.

    i read a book on monday morning. 2 glorious hours to myself. it feels scandalous.

    monday is for reintegration.

    i feel lonely on tuesday and i don’t know why?

    there are so many details to take care of on top of my part time job, the kids, and the house, of course. i can’t keep up. i keep buying organization systems to help me organize my life. i think i need a wife.

    no time to write; i’m too busy. but i had the weirdest dream in which a werewolf climbed into bed with me and ravaged me as i slept. i wonder what it meant?

    i look forward to the glass of wine i have on friday night, and i’ll admit that i often have more than one. more like 3-4. sex helps. alcohol consumption is worrying but i need to relax before THE WEEKEND carousel of activities.

  • “ 5:30 p.m. In the hotel room, I always go down on Brie for as long as she lets me. Today it’s about 15 minutes. I love her pussy. It is very pretty and smells like cotton candy.”

    All I could think was…. Brie is a hooker/stripprt and/or a teenager …. the type that buys candy-smelling fragrances from Victoria’s Secret or Walgreens and sprays it in her panties. Meanwhile this dumbass thinks she has a magical pussy.

    I do hope his wife figured it all out and took him for everything. And sprayed all of his suits with that fucking perfume.

    • Michelle, great observation, Victoria’s Secret, Walgrens, Bath and Body Works probably has a fragrance called cotton candy, body wash, body spray, body lotion, and the dumbs thinks it’s magical pussy.

      I hope his wife leaves him, he marries the lovely cultured Brie and discovers magical pussy is no longer pretty and smells like rotting fish.

      • Thank you Brit!

        Honestly – his description of female genitalia as “very pretty and smells like cotton candy” made me think:

        “This guy is a pedophile”

        Let’s hope that “Brie” (if this story has any reality to it) is actually of age and not an underage babysitter who is now prostituting herself to this pig FW douche

  • A cheater’s thought process:

    One lie.

    One tiny little lie.

    What the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

    The kids will never find out. I love them and play with them. #greatdad

    I get up SO early so deserve a side dish. I need the release. Our marriage benefits!

    The AP LOVES the sex. My cock is SO great!! She even wants it when it’s not Tuesday. #soannoying #hardtobeme

    We don’t have anal sex, so we’re…pure!

    I must share my story with the losers who don’t have the nerve to do what I do but will at least get a thrill from reading about it. #mygift #sharing

  • Man, today’s article cuts really deep. It’s mind boggling the levels of destruction these cheaters cause and their only view is why does everyone make such a big deal about it? I work so hard for my family and I deserve to find my happy in some young thing’s crotch. They have really convinced themselves that they are truly deserving of these escapades, and the entitlement trumps the destruction every day of the week. ( I get up at the ass crack of dawn, don’t you all agree I deserve a cock suck from some financially challenged sweet young nanny?!) It’s never been anything but all about them and they actually believe that is the right view to take. Totally unfixable sociopaths. They can’t take another view, because they would need to be accountable for their actions and that leaves them with their boring loving family life, who wants that level of torture?
    My ex once told me during one attempt at rebuild after a D day, that is he is so complex that one woman couldn’t fill all his needs. It’s almost laughable if it wasn’t so warped and sick. He imagines on some level that he has a positive effect on these women’s lives ( buys one realtor he’s screwing a car saying I would really want to help her too, she’s such a good person, then screwed some other newlywed lawyer that was sad cause her lawyer husband wasn’t making her feel loved enough and of course, no one was a better lover than my ex, so he puts on his cape and he and his dick come to the rescue! He helped another advance her career with a 6 year relationship with who other than ‘the great knower of all’ in the industry and on and on it goes, what would the world do if he wasn’t around to help all these pretty young things?!) He’s so helpful!
    I also think there is some level of accomplishment in seeing the women he actually hurts, that never do fully reset. He keeps tabs on them all and he enjoys being the only man that could make their hearts sing, he basks in that power he imagines that props up his ego with toothpicks. He believes one of them never married after an affair with him and he def seemed to enjoy that thought, even though he feigned being sad over it. He is a misogynist on steroids.
    No concept or care of how his 30 y/o daughter, who he claims to love, navigates relationships now, when the man in her life that she loved and adored, treats women like disposable items, namely her own mom.
    I came across a receipt from Costco with a $1300 bracelet purchase on it. I asked him about it and he said it was a “goodbye gift”.( to the most recent mistress) I thought, well, maybe that finally means he is ready to love me and his family again?!?( the hopium pipe is most addictive)
    How I wish someone would have placed a copy of LACGAL in my lap at just that moment! I stayed hurt and in the dark for decades.
    It’s not possible for them to do enough good in the world to ever offset the bad they have caused, but that is never going to be what they sell themselves. In their eyes, they are the man every woman dreams about having. ( to the women they soul rape, they are the most inconceivable nightmare)
    It’s sad that these are the men of highest value in our society, the rich, successful, good looking and entitled, that narrative really needs a complete overhaul to make any headway in changing it.
    These emotional predators get to roam free and never fully are held accountable for the endless generational and societal destruction they cause.

    • Wow, well said Chumpasauras45. It’s bloody scary, the societal and generational abuse. Where have the women’s groups gone? I used to belong to one but they are out of fashion despite being needed more than ever.

  • It’s hard to admit I married a deranged man. The entitlement, the cultivated chaos of his work environment that helped him hide his dirty little secret for the entire 34 years of our marriage. Surprise honey, I’m gay, and I’ve been exploring my sexuality all along so Im no longer confused and I feel lighter, happier. No remorse, no apologies, no acceptance of responsibility in destroying another human being. I trusted. I loved. I kept my side of the street clean. Cheaters love that about chumps. We are faithful beyond what’s considered normal. Feeding their egos. The longer I’m away from my abuser, the clearer I see my part in the dysfunction. And that’s all I’m responsible for. Changing my picker. (This includes friends as well.) Choosing healthy boundaries. Yep, it’s a snail’s pace kind of learning. Two steps forward, one step backwards. I’m the winner here, not him. He has zero interest in changing. I’m 67 years old and 100 years wiser. Not my monkey, not my circus anymore.

    • Me, too.

      Just turned 68 last week. 32 years married when my now-ex came in one day to say “I’ve decided I’m a woman in a man’s body,” and “I’ve been ‘exploring’ with Molly” [a former student], and “I’ve known since I was ten and wore my mother’s slip and drew breasts on myself with her lipstick.”

      And like you, throughout our marriage I fed his ego, and made sure that any achievement of mine in our joint profession was followed by me finding a way for him to also advance (I orchestrated a campaign in our department to put him up for a teaching award, I urged him to apply for an NEH seminar I knew he was perfect for, etc).

      And now, like you, “the longer I’m away,” the more clearly “I see my part in the dysfunction.” No wonder he thought that I’d be as ecstatic as he was, and go right along in his delusion he was now a lesbian, and therefore I was, too. He had no empathy for me or for the years I’d been struggling in a marriage that could never have worked because he never wanted to be a husband, while he was stealing my underclothing and frequenting porn sites featuring “women with penises.” What he is, is a man who gets off sexually on seeing himself in women’s lingerie: a straight up fetish cross-dresser trying to dignify his fetish by calling himself transgender.

    • Agree. The entitlement gets to me. We chumps have to find out about their secret lives, we (not everyone, I know) have to file the paperwork, talk to the kid(s) and worst of all we have to go through the battery of STD tests. I confess that I cried the whole way through that experience. Thankfully, the kindly women who took care of this said this happens quite a bit and my family doctor was very understanding. Of all the hell they put us through, risking our health without our knowledge of it is the worst. Now, that he is out, I am just looking forward to being free of a fuck wit and not having to deal with moodiness, incessant secrecy and the disrespect. My next step is to get the house sanitized and get rid of cheater stink. Have also been thinking about getting the house saged and blessed so their are no lingering FW spirits in it. We chumps have to deal with a lot but I guess our chumpiness gives us the strength to move forward (not always as easily as we may hope because our worlds turned upside down).
      My process is in full swing and FW is starting to realize that he is losing the wife appliance and a goodly amount of money. His young thing will drop him eventually when she realizes that he is hers 24/7 now.

  • A point that I don’t know if male chumps understand is the huge sense of sexual entitlement that so many men have which allows them to buy sex and treat women as commodities and objects.

    He gives two examples of women doing a pick me dance by offering degrading, painful porn style sex (anal,”choking on cock”) because these days a lot of men, influenced by porn, demand this stuff, and women offer it because if they don’t they can’t get a boyfriend. They’ve been so brainwashed by this culture of female sexual servitude that they probably have even convinced themselves they like it. This helps creeps like Sugar Daddy justify engaging in abusive sex. These pick me women don’t really like choking on a penis or taking it up the butt, FFS. It’s abuse, pure and simple, and it isn’t really consensual if the only other choice besides agreeing to do degrading acts is to be rejected and spend the rest of your life alone. Lots of female chumps experienced their fuckwits demanding abusive sex as well and tried to keep them by agreeing, something very few, (if any) male chumps go through. This has to stop.

    This pornified world is what’s waiting for female chumps in the dating pool when we divorce. This is one of the reasons why I don’t date. I’m afraid of encountering more depravity. I found out my fw was a sick porn zombie and into creepy stuff, and from research I’ve seen, the majority of women have encountered abusive sexual practices from men they are dating, like choking, slapping, being called degrading names, being spat on, etc. I recall a British study had it at around 77%. The odds aren’t good so I’m staying out. Chump men, I would like you to be aware that this is what we are dealing with and understand our fears. I think that good men have a responsibility to resist the cultural brainwashing and take a stand against this abuse. If you use porn you are part of the problem.

    Yes, for the record and before somebody says it, I know it’s #notallmen. Just 77%, apparently. How fucking depressing is that.

    • Thank you for bringing it up. Thanks to internet porn, pick up artistry, red pill movement etc. the situation now is that male sadism has become mainstream. We have several generations of men who are not able to get off without inflicting pain and humiliation on women or seeing someone else do it. No, not all men. But frightingly many. And it is fully accepted to a point that you will be labeled sex-negative and prudish if you are not willing to pretend that you like it.

      • “Why don’t you shave off all your hair ?”
        “Do you squirt when you come ?”
        “You don’t do anal ?!”

        Some men watch too much porn and are dumbfounded when they engage with a live, thinking, feeling woman with her own desires and boundaries.

        All of the above questions were from middle aged (divorced SURPRISE !) men. ????

  • My initial reaction (and, I suppose, hope) was that this is an attempt at fiction writing.

    But those of us who have lived with lying cheating double-life assholes have found out the hard way that such a self-centered, disgusting, narcissistic worldview is a very real thing. And there are lots of these amoral con artists out there.

    In Robert Plant’s “Stairway to Heaven” voice I imagine his famous question reworked:

    “Does anybody remember integrity?”

  • This one always gives me hives. And I bet he’s a bad lay anyway. Self-obsessed folks are always selfish in the sack.

  • Also this is gross, but if he can only go down on her as long as she lets him, and he never mentions her orgasming until they “share” one after PIV for 12 minutes, says everything about him as a lover.

    • She tolerates his sloppy attempts at oral sex to please him and fakes orgasm during intercourse. Everything is about him, but he tells himself she likes it even though he pays her.

      It was similar with my FW. He was bad at oral so I would only do it because he liked it. I think that is the case with many men who learned to do oral, badly, from the bullshit they see in porn. They learn intercourse the same way and there is no intimacy or love in it, they are too rough and they demand kinky acts.
      This is the reality most women have to deal with, not just prostitutes- objectifying, heartless and often abusive sex. It’s a serious problem but people shy away from talking about it.

      • My FW tried to pressure me into anal sex, and I’m so glad I resisted. He was unpleasantly rough, as well. Make love, not porn.

  • He should be extremely careful. There are only about 1500 people in Chappaqua, NY and a quick Google search shows who is a day trader from there. Obviously I won’t mention any names but I easily found one who perfectly fits the descriptions of his life in his writing and social media confirms he loves pizza with his kids at the next town over and has been trading for exactly “20 years”. And what do you know…he went to Columbia…the same place as his niece! I swear…if cheater’s only had half a brain. I’ll let karma handle this one.

      • So true! They never think they will get caught. Hubris is what it is. Just like stupid John Edwards. That dude was a jackass of all jackasses.

        I lived in NYC. I can tell you first hand there is lots of money and lots of shitty bankers, traders, hedge fund types, and non-financial narcissists who bought women.. I was shocked when I learned about the so called “normal” people who paid for young college girl prostitutes aka sugar babies. And there are lots of them who think nothing of sex for money, sex for jewelry, sex for a fancy bag. Heck, a family friend’s daughter even told me she would do it to pay off her student loans and her mother was all for it. Gross. F*cking gross.

        As fiction sounding as this may have been, it really isn’t. It’s NYC. Just look at all the Wall Street and Hedge Fund Managers (billionaires) who left their wives for much younger women. There is always a skanky ballerina (major hedge fund manager), model/waitress, instagram influencer fitness/nutritionist (billionaire hedge fund manager in recent news) just waiting for her chance to destroy a marriage for money. The guys don’t care either. They really don’t. They think these women actually love them for their fat dad bods and old faces and not the fact they are filthy rich. No pun intended. It’s entitlement.

    • Out of some sort of boredom I found an active cheater online and he had dropped so many bread crumbs I found his real FB and twitter accounts. So I got in my recliner with some popcorn and watched his outing, his nasty comments about his lover, his wife and life in general. What do you know! His lover told his wife who, after a couple of years, decided he wasn’t worth it. She gets life long alimony.
      He thought he was hot shit because of his job. The most sickening parts were the active cheaters who wrote “poor is me” letters to him. None of these people EVER recognized the damage they were causing the innocent spouses and children.

  • I am pretty sure there is a typo in the the first line of the cheater’s diary. Let me correct it for everybody’s ease of reading….

    “DAY ONE
    4:45 a.m. I am a trader, and I live in Chappaqua, so I wake up ***AS*** the ass crack of dawn and sneak out of the house without waking the wife or kids. “

    • … also, I’m pretty sure this guy was dictating, and didn’t proofread the results.

      Those pesky apps frequently have trouble with words that sound similar.

      It’s obvious that “trader” was supposed to be “traitor”.

  • And to add to the mind fuckery of the NY Times, we now have the one-sided sob story of CNN’s Lisa Ling October 2021 presenting “Sex Workers Past, Present, and Future” that categorically paints all whores as victims. Her expensive, slick-produced segment failed to mention the literally 100’s of CURRENT, EXISTING public web sites that volunteering, self-employed independent whores advertise on everyday like: The Erotic Review, City Source Escorts, The Erotic Monkey, LA Escorts. Ling left all that out, she ignored Extortion as the new Prostitution. She ignored the rampant existing on-line business. She covered the ‘poor’ sex workers, the victims, and Back page. Back page is old news that’s back in business. She left out whores spreading COVID in 2020. I’m so !@#$% tired of the courts, the cops, the media, all turning a blind eye to the very active prostitution business. While we work, pay out taxes, stop at red lights, run to put coins in our parking meters….. CNN Shame on you – what happened to your whole “truth in media’ campaign. I’m beginning to think everyone’s nuts except Chump Nation.

  • I know this is a re-run but whenever I wish a genital-melting STD on cheaters, this is what I wish for them. (Yes, it’s oral too.)


  • This Norman Maileresque ‘let’s call all women broads’ pseud shit is so tired and warped straight from the 50s. Trapped in surburban hell, life is so monotonous and hard that I gotta catch a break in the form of a mid 20s semi-professional who let’s me indulge my lazy attempts at edgy sex and make like it’s only what I deserve for putting up with everyone. Pure fiction by the look of it, but I guess it does okay in a kind of penthouse confessional kinda way and some douches lap it up as the story of their life.

    • That was exactly my thought. An entitled manchild who is bored with his life and tries to break the monotomy in the most basic way: Some outdated James Bond fantasy that would make even Hugh Hefner yawn.

  • I read this and my overwhelming feeling is tiredness. I’m in England. Tonight, as a protest, a boycott of nightclubs will take place, organised by a group of female students. They are sick of going to nightclubs in thick coats to protect themselves from being ‘spiked’ with drugs. Yes, it used to be the drinks that were spiked. Now that expense has been cut out, and the drugs go straight into the body via a syringe through thin clothes. It happened to my goddaughter’s friend. She woke up in an unfamiliar room into which men came in and out and touched her. She reported the assault to the police but as usual there was nothing they could do, they said. Horrifying enough. On the BBC report of the boycott, the word ‘men’ is not used. Instead it is ‘people’ doing the spiking. There’s no evidence that women are spiking each other, to my knowledge. There is evidence that men are spiking women. I can’t comment on whether those who identify in another way are spiking, but I’d hazard a guess not.

    Until there is honesty about who is doing what to whom, spiking will continue, domestic abuse by men against women (much more prevalent than that by women against men) will continue, exploitation of impoverished women working the streets will continue (the fragrant Brie doesn’t seem to be one of these women), and women will continue to be at risk of death, disease, and life-changing injuries both physical and mental endured at the hands of men.

    I thank the universe for CL and CN for telling it as it is. This validation has enabled me to be stronger when holding my ground in my life when I see abuse in action. And I include in the abuse category women who have sex or enter into emotional affairs, or sext with men they know to be married. They are not victims of love but liars and cheats too. There has to be a fight back by good women and men against acceptance of men disrespecting and abusing women and women disrespecting and abusing themselves. I also thank the universe for the students doing their best to lead the way.

  • I’m really glad I finished my bagel before reading this one. I might have actually puked. What a colossal asshat. OMFG.This guy is the definition of an entitled prick. I feel so sorry for this guy’s wife.

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