I love this bit from South Park. I have from the moment I first saw it. Including James Taylor in the sequence was just priceless. (To find it on YouTube, I entered "chef sings about prostitutes" in the search bar, and that was the first link. Google should work so well.)
The stuff about the horseshoe crab in #952 made me dig out the archive of my e-mails with Satomi, because I couldn't remember "horseshoe crab"; while trying to find the name I got to reading the archived e-mails, which led me to thinking about how much I liked her and how sour things went.
...but, I wondered, what about Marlene, the Filipina who ripped my heart right out of my chest, took a bite out of the still-beating organ and then--her hands and face smeared with blood--threw it to the floor and gleefully tap-danced on it?
SHE IS A WHORE.
I'm not the kind of guy who precipitously throws major insults around. I'm not. But she warrants the label.
I made myself go through the entire thing.
Item: Everything was great until my last night in the Philippines.
Item: Everything was great until she said she wanted me to give her a monthly allowance.
Item: After I replied, "You're my fiancee, not my wife", she decided to call the whole thing off.
If the success of the relationship depends on me giving her money, she is a whore. I think that's pretty obvious. Actually, she's worse than a whore, because at least a whore is honest about her motives!
"Pretty obvious", that is, to most people who are not me. And so I had to painstakingly examine everything about the end of that relationship to realize that what killed it was the fact that I would not send her money.
In actuality I would have sent her money. After I said, "you're my fiancee, not my wife", I said that I wouldn't have a problem with sending her some money for miscellanious expenses and things. I thought about $100 per month, since she was living with her parents; $100 per month is a hell of a lot of "pocket money" in the Philippines as many families live on about $3000 per year. But as it turned out she wanted $3600 per year from me ($300 per month).
I wanted things to be otherwise, which is why I had so much trouble facing the truth of the situation. But it's a fact: she's a whore, the worst sort of whore imaginable.
Satomi at least was honest with me: she wanted to marry and have children, and that was her primary reason for looking for someone--at age 37 (at the time) she was bascially an "old maid" in Japan and had spent enough time abroad that she wanted out of Japan anyway. She'd lived with a Scotsman for about a year before returning to Japan, and eventually she dumped me (politely and fairly) and returned to the Scotsman.
I shouldn't have been as critical of Satomi as I was here. Even if she did break my heart, she was decent about it.
Well, we all make mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them, and to accept the consequences.
Somehow it led to an epiphany: Dude, you're not getting a girlfriend. You're not in a space where that can happen, so F it--just concentrate on being as happy as you can be, as things are! Stop worrying about the bitches and do your own thing for a while, and just concentrate on doing your job and fixing your cars and whatever the hell else floats your boat.
Life is too short for a man to make himself miserable over things he can't control--life does that to you more than enough without that.
Why is that so hard for me to understand?