When the Ashley Madison scandal broke, I took a long hard minute, before I laughed my ass off.

I mean, this shit is real. Homes are being broken up over stupid indiscretions, and for fucking what? A husband or a wife, wanted a piece of tail on the side? That shit happens every day. People cheat. Lot’s of people cheat. They usually try not to leave a credit card blueprint for all the world to see, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

The only reason I can understand the appeal of Ashley Madison is that everyone on that site is a cheater. Either a husband whose wife didn’t turn him on and clean up after the kids, (that bitch). Or a wife, whose husband didn’t turn her on or make her a cup of coffee, (that asshole).

So now here they are, husband and wife in the same miserable marriage living in the same town. Their needs aren’t getting met, (in their eyes) their dreams aren’t being considered. The next cause of action, of course, the only cause of action, is an Ashley Madison affair. This ensures they can stay married although miserable, and still get their needs sexually met outside of their marital bed. And that is the part that pisses me off.

So both unhappy husband and unhappy wife sign up (secretly) for the Ashley Madison Affair Guarantee package; a whopping $259 per person (that doesn’t even include the monthly add-ons and cost of wooing.) And with that package, as long as they initiate a certain amount of contact within a three-month period of purchasing the package, Ashley Madison completely refunds you if you have not had an affair at the end of their trial period.

Makes perfect sense. Not to me, cause I kinda like the whole monogamy thing.

So the husband, with a semi-chubby in his pants goes on date after date after date. Only to find the same vapid women he compared his wife too in the first place. All this while spending money to date another woman away from his family.

And the wife, goes on date after date after date. Only to find the same guy she has at home. But with less hair, more ego, and a gaggle full of kids from his previous “relationships.”

After realizing the grass is not – in fact – greener on the other side of the fence they come back to each other.

He with a shiny rock-hard pair of blue balls and a wallet down a grand. She with some pent-up sexual frustration and guilt that she spent the other grand.

And for what?

He can buy her a Dyson Stick for $600 and the house would be clean.

She can buy him a Keurig for $119 and her coffee would be there.

And you wouldn’t have to woo a stranger, or cheat, or attempt to cheat.

Really. When it comes down to the math, it’s cheaper to go to marriage counseling and splurge on the Dyson.



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