by SG’s Team Agony feat. Clio

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: I have been going through a long divorce, it has taken most of my time away from my girlfriend and she is growing more and more irritated with me. I on the other hand, have been doing every thing I can to finalize all the paperwork and move on. But she thinks I’m trying to get back with my ex no matter what I tell her. As far as I know she is a pretty trusting person, and I haven’t given her any reason to not trust me. I just don’t know what to do. Should I push through it? I really love her, and don’t want to lose her because of my crazy ex wife.

A: All I can say is… get that shit over with as soon as possible. Talk to your girlfriend about her distrustfulness and step it up a notch to show her that she’s the only object of your affection. Are you still in touch with your (almost) ex-wife? Limit the contact you have with her. Don’t talk shit about her, just acknowledge that she once mattered but doesn’t anymore. If you still own any of her crap, get rid of it now. When will the divorce be finalized? Celebrate with your girlfriend when you’re officially a free man. You could even throw a divorce party if that’s your thing. Bottom line: spend more time with your girlfriend, and less time on anything that has to do with your ex.

Good luck!

Clio
xoxo

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Laurelin

Last night, sitting in a barstool while sipping my Sam Adams Summer Ale, I seriously wished that I were anywhere else. My mind wandered: I thought of going on vacation, I wondered what everyone was doing at my bar, if it was busy, I wondered about my bed, and what would be on TV when I got home. I wondered if it was going to rain tomorrow, if I would sleep in or if I would get up and go for a run. I wondered if I would be hungover. Probably not.

It’s another Tuesday, and the most excitement I’ve had all night is tracing the outline of the snakeskin print leather barstool. My two friends sitting next to each other are squawking about their relationships and I am trying not to fall over out of sheer boredom. We’ve been out since 7 PM. It was 1 AM. My brain had officially turned to relationship mush.

“He doesn’t touch me anymore,” one says. “I go home, he ignores me, he wakes up, goes to work, I know he doesn’t love me.” The other shakes her head vigorously in agreement.

“I KNOW,” she says. “Mine doesn’t love me either. I said I love you to him and he didn’t say it back. Laurelin, what do you think?” She says, turning towards me and asking for advice that I know she’ll never take.

“I think I’m going to stab myself in the throat,” I say absentmindedly. The two girls look at me, horrified. I totally didn’t mean to say that out loud. What I meant to say, and what I had been saying all night is this: How can two beautiful, amazing, once independent woman stay in these loveless relationships simply because they don’t want to be alone?

“We live together,” one says. “

We work together,” says the other. I’ve been down both of those roads, and you know what? You do right by you. You make the important decisions and you trust that one day, you will meet someone who is right for you. Some day you will find your best friend, that one guy who wants you to come home and crawl into bed even if it’s late, the one who won’t leave you sobbing in the street after telling you you’re “lucky” he came home because he totally could have banged that chick at the bar.

These poor women; They often look at me with sadness in their eyes because when I ask them to go out a lot of the time they can’t – they’re with their boyfriends. “Aren’t you lonely?” they ask, the question dripping with pity. Yes. The answer is yes, I am so lonely that sometimes it’s all I can do not to just fling myself into bed at the end of each long day, praying to never wake up. I am so lonely sometimes that I call my ex-boyfriend and tell him to come over when I know he’s been drinking, just so I can listen to him snore and remember what it’s like to sleep next to a warm body.

But I am not so lonely that I would ever do what these girls are doing. Love is hard and relationships need to be worked on. But these, these have been dead for a long time and that type of lonely, well that is something I don’t have. My lonely can be solved with the simple concept of hope. I haven’t met someone yet. I will. I always do. With every sunrise and sunset I never know what’s around the corner, but these girls, they do, and it makes me so sad and bored for them that I could just die.

We walk home later, and one of them is crying. “I can’t do this anymore,” she says. I hug her and tell her to do the right thing, whatever that is. I fall asleep alone, and I know she’s drying her eyes before her boyfriend sees that she’s been crying.

I text her the next day, “How’d it go?” and she writes back like nothing ever happened. “Fine,” she says, “I was just being silly. He went golfing. We’re going to the movies later.”

I’d rather go alone.

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by SG’s Team Agony feat. Kurosune

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: I’ve been married for seven years to my high school sweetheart – if you can call him that – I just call him my legally bound roommate. During our marriage I was faithful for the first 6 1/2 years. Him? Well that’s a different story. He’s cheated on me 3 times that I know of. The worst was when I found out about the first two 6 months after my mom died. The last one was about a year ago.

I don’t want to loose him but I don’t know if I really want to stay married either. The idea of an open marriage sounds appealing but I know in all honesty that would probably be the first step of the demise of us. I know I love him, but I just can’t seem to figure out if I’m still in love with him.

A: Seven years is a long time, I commend you for staying in a relationship so long. I speak from personal experience when I say I know exactly what it is like to fall in love and then move in with your high school sweetheart. Me and mine were together for over six years before we finally broke it off. However, your situation…well, it’s a toughy, isn’t it?

I will just cut straight to the chase: A CHEATER IS A CHEATER IS A CHEATER. Very rarely do cheaters change. And for him to have abandoned you when you needed him the most for some nookie – that’s even worse.

I truly empathize with you, because when my mother was in the hospital, all one of my guy friends was trying to do was fuck, so I can appreciate how incredibly insensitive he is as well. Under the circumstance, the fact that you stayed faithful for so long is even more commendable. I’m slightly reminded of the song, “I Shoud’ve Cheated.” You should look it up – a little music therapy for you.

And honey, those are the three times THAT YOU KNOW OF. Again, I wouldn’t have forgiven him after the first incident. But when you say, “You did what you want to do,” that implies that you cheated as well, and, sweetheart, two wrongs certainly do not make a right.

I have a personal philosophy when it comes to cheating: If he loved you, he would have never cheated in the beginning. The opposite side of that, as I see it, is that the minute you had sex with that other guy while in a committed relationship it meant you were basically admitting to yourself that you were no longer in love with him.

Truly, this is your decision, but in reality, however subconsciously, it seems like you’ve already made it. I can understand that you love him, but are you in love with him? And how deep does that love run? Will it cost you your dignity? Your heart? This may just be a relationship that has run its course and that is emotionally healthier to let go. But, ultimately, only you can know what path you need to take.

If it were me, I hope I’d have the strength to take the path away from a man who cheats, who will continue to cheat, and who will break your heart again and again and again. Stay strong and stay focused on what makes you happy. Remember, YOU COME FIRST.

Best of luck and all my love,

<3 Kurosune
XOX

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Brad Warner

Lots of people think the question “What happens after you die?” is one of the most urgent in all of philosophy. So they invent concepts like rebirth and reincarnation to try to deal with their anxiety over it. But the problem is that the question makes no sense.

The question is based on several assumptions that are not true. It’s based foremost on the idea that there is something called “me” that belongs to us as individuals and that this something is subject to birth and death. Now I could sit here at my laptop and type out a series of logical thoughts to try and lead you to the conclusion that this belief in a personal self isn’t true. But I’m not sure that would be very helpful. If you want that sort of thing there are thousands of other places to find it. Most of these explanations are produced by people who can write better than me, who have more impressive credentials than I do, and who look better in flowing ochre robes than I ever will. So I will leave the explaining to them.

What I can tell you is this. When you learn to see life as it actually is and not through ways that umpteen thousands of years of human thought has conditioned you to look at them, the idea of the existence of a personal self starts to look incredibly absurd. It takes a good deal of time and a considerable degree of effort to do this. It will not happen in a few hours or a few days or even a few years. Remember that you’re trying to cut through perhaps as much as 200,000 years of human conditioning (going by the most reliable scientific estimates of how long our species has been around). This isn’t easy to do. But it’s a lot easier than it ought to be, given how thoroughly we have been conditioned to see life in terms of a personal self.

You don’t die or get reborn because there is no you to die or get reborn in the first place.

You can see this for yourself if you are willing to put in the time and effort to do so. Notice, though, that I am forced to phrase that sentence in tens of “you.” This is how pervasive the concept of a personal self is. There is no way to make a coherent English sentence regarding this subject without having to use the idea of a personal self to put it across. Our thinking is forced by language to flow through certain channels. We are so deeply conditioned to see things in terms of self that we cannot think our way out of it.

The key is to transcend all thought. This may sound like a big deal. But it’s really not. We transcend all thought all the time. There’s an old Zen story about a guy who realizes the essential truth of the universe when he stubs his toe. When you stub your toe really hard, thought disappears completely. At the moment of toe-stubbing, there can be no thought and no personal self. Later on thought can come along and explain what happened in terms of “me” and “my toe.” But that’s just an explanation. That’s not what happened. This sort of thing goes on constantly throughout our lives.

Meditation is just the practice of sitting with what actually is until we learn how not to ignore what actually is.

Brad Warner is the author of Sex, Sin and Zen: A Buddhist Exploration of Sex from Celibacy to Polyamory and Everything in Between as well as Hardcore Zen, Sit Down and Shut Up! and Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate. He maintains a blog about Buddhist stuff that you can click here to see. You can also buy T-shirts and hoodies based on his books, and the new CD by his band Zero Defex now!
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by SG’s Team Agony feat. Rydell

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: My girlfriend of seven years left me recently and it devastated me. We lived together for most of that time, and I was ready to marry her. After she landed a new job in a salon, our communication broke down starting a downward spiral. We never really fought about anything of importance, and we’re incredibly happy and good together up to the end. She left saying it was because she felt under appreciated/loved and that we were growing apart. I know I fell into a ‘funk’ and became less outwardly affectionate towards the end, but the feelings I have only grew, not subsided. It’s been two months and haven’t had any contact, and I want nothing more than the chance to see if she was right about growing apart and see where that takes us. What can I do to try and get her to see that I’m a changed man that understands what went wrong, and that I was a chance to start over and date her again?

—A sad and optimistic guy in the South Bay

A: If you are looking to “reconnect” with her, contact her and see where her head is. Maybe she is in the same mind set or maybe she isn’t. All you can do is ask. If she feels that enough time hasn’t past or really just wants to move on and away from the relationship you had, then really all you can do is respect it and try something new in your life.

Try dating someone else when you feel your heart is healed enough and take things slow. I am sure it will feel weird at first, but in time maybe you will see more “little things” that maybe weren’t so right with your past relationship.

Getting a little perspective with time and space, will help you realize the things you don’t want in a current relationship, and also recognize the things that were good that you would like to carry over to a new one.

Like I say, talk to each other and see if a reconciliation is possible. if not, have a Plan B and start there. Maybe in time she’ll realize what she wants is what she already had, and maybe she won’t. Who know, by then you may have something even better anyways.

Good luck.

<3 Rydell

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Bradley Suicide

When I go out, things tend to be completely insane, and not always in a good way. When I look back on my nights out, I am not always proud of my antics, but they do always provide for an interesting story – my life is never boring. In true Bradley fashion, last weekend did not disappoint…

Saturday:
Milloux calls me to tell me about an epic bar party that is going down. I am freaking stoked. So excited I could jump through my skin. This bar happens to be in Redondo Beach and it is their three-year anniversary. Not only are they having a party of epic proportions on Saturday night, they are having a white trash pool themed event the next day. I Google the bar, The Gasser Lounge. It looks like my kind of place. A complete party spot. I am now so excited that I am counting down the minutes until I get out of work. It’s been a long ass week and I need a release for sure.

I get off of work at 7.30 PM, and rush home to change, asking my roommates for their opinions on outfits. My final choice ends up being a Guns ‘N’ Roses top and tiny, tiny white shorts. I curl my hair, throw on some makeup, put on some ridiculously high heelsm and I am out the door, Redondo Beach bound. I’m seriously juiced by this point. Adrenaline pumping through me as I give my liver a pep talk about what it’s in for while I drive up the 405.

I get to the bar at about 10.15 PM and link up with my friends. As I walk in I eye-fuck the shit out of the hot bouncer outside. This is a great start to my night and I’m feeling pretty on point.

The place is jam packed. A live band is playing some old school Cash. We go to the bar to order our first drinks. I ask for my usual, a Greyhound and a shot of Fernet Branca. As the bartender (who looks just like Rob Zombie) gets my shot I realize that the Fernet is on tap. I promptly lose my shit at this revelation. This bar was made for me.

I take my shot and down my drink, we are laughing, drinking, partying, and having a grand ol’ time. I am starting to get my drunk on and all of a sudden remember bouncer sexy pants outside. I ask Milloux to come outside with me, light up a cigarette, and promptly work my hot girl magic.

Two minutes from the time we step outside that gorgeous piece of dude is all over me like white on rice. Within 5 minutes he is getting me shots. Within a half an hour he is pushing me up against the wall for a good make out sesh in the dark breezeway between the front door and the bar. I always get my mark.

Before you know it, it’s last call, and the crew and I are ready to go to Denny’s. Bouncer sexy pants gets my number and triple checks that I am going to be at the white trash pool party the next day. I assure him that I will be there and we bounce.

We leave and head to Denny’s. I have never seen a Denny’s so packed during the daytime, let alone at 3 AM. My mind is promptly blown. It’s at this point that bouncer sexy pants starts blowing up my phone. I am not interested in hanging out with him right away because I am going to have to see him the next day at the white trash pool party. I want to keep the cat and mouse going a little longer, knowing what the ending to this is going to be anyways, or so I think, and I want the build up the suspense to keep going. I tell him I will see him the next day and to sleep tight. We all head back to our friends place and pass out.

Sunday:
I wake up cuddling with an insanely hot SuicideGirl. Life doesn’t suck. Any morning when that happens is awesome. We get our day going slowly, heading to her place to get changed and to get some food in our bellies. We grab some amazing empanadas and mack on them while we get our white trash outfits together. I am also drinking rum and coke out of a wine glass at this point – gotta keep it classy.

I change into a skull and confederate flag bikini, the remnants of some blue jeans that now function as shorts, and a white wife beater. The hair is backcombed to the max and in pigtails with a rolled up bandana. Jaime Pressly ain’t got shit on me.

We trek it over to Redondo Beach. As we walk up to the bar my eyes get as big as saucers. They have enclosed the parking lot with an open roof tent so that though it’s still sunny inside, no one on the street can see the debauchery going down. Its like a giant makeshift patio. We walk into this ghetto rigged tent of awesomeness and there is a huge blow up pool, a “lifeguard” tower, a menagerie of blow up animal rafts, and babes everywhere. I’m in heaven.

We beeline it straight for the bar. The whole time keeping my eyes peeled for bouncer sexy pants. Milloux tells me that he is standing pretty close behind me so I promptly lose my wife beater so I am in my bikini top and cutoffs. My timing is perfect. His jaw hits the floor. He comes over and starts giving us drinks.

Now that I’m a little buzzed we venture outside to the makeshift pool area again. Bouncer sexy pants is in true bro form, threatening to throw me in the pool. I end up manning up, doing the shimmy out of my little shorts, and hop in. We all continue drinking and partying.

Bouncer sexy pants then announces that he has go home, shower, nap and change since he has to be back at the bar by 7 because he is bartending that night. He then asks if I would like to join him. I’m hammered but I say yes anyways. You can guess the rest of this part of the story.

We head back to the bar. I continue drinking with my crew. We are all obliterated. We decide to head out at this point, I say goodbye to bouncer sexy pants. I trip walking down the street in my flips flops (this is hearsay, I don’t remember it, but I have the bloody and scraped knees to prove that it happened). We get back to the house and I pass out from exhaustion. Drinking in the sun all day is damn tiring.

My phone starts going off like crazy. Milloux wakes me up after the third missed call from bouncer sexy pants. I also see a couple texts from him. He is straight up begging me to come back to the bar. He is offering to pay for a cab to come and get me from wherever I am to get me back to the bar. He’s asking me to stay with him overnight in Redondo and then promising to take me back to my car in the morning, etc., etc. Is this guy for real? I put up a good fight because, honestly, I was not feelin’ like doing much of anything at this point. I was tired and semi drunk still. After a good half an hour of his badgering I relent and get dropped back at the bar while everyone else heads home.

Please note. From this point on, Bouncer Sexy Pants will be being referred to as Bouncer McNutsack. This next part of the story is a blow to my ego, but it needs to be told…

Bouncer Mc Nutsack got me a drink and we sat and chatted. He was bartending with one other dude. I sat at the bar and chilled, it was pretty dead inside, just a handful of people. Around 1.30 PM I started to notice that Bouncer McNutsack had been spending a grip of time at the end of the bar with an extremely plain looking chick and her friend. I began to feel some irritation building up but I pushed it aside. After all, he made such a huge deal about me coming back to the bar to see me again anyways.

About 15 minutes later I see him go into this bathroom with this chick. “Are you fucking kidding me?” is all that I can think. I sat there in shock for a good minute – jaw on the floor. I calmly got up and walked out. Still wearing his hat that I had borrowed earlier in the day at the pool party (and he is not getting it back, ha!). I was fuming at this point. Who does that? Homey was in the clear, I was gone, I was not coming back to the bar until he called me incessantly and begged me to come back. If you are going to hook up with some plain Jane why drag me back to the bar at all? My ego was more than bruised.

Still confused I trek it back to my car, which is a couple of blocks away. I am smart enough that I know that driving is not an option, so I turn on my seat warmer, curl up, and sleep it off in my bug.

I wake up the next morning, cold, tired, and still a little buzzed. I go to turn on my car – uh oh! I guess I forgot in my drunken pissed off stupor that turning on my seat warmer would drain my car battery. Woops! I am a little freaked out at this point since I am a good half an hour away from Huntington, where I live, and I don’t know anyone in Redondo Beach. I muster up my strength and walk to one of the nearby houses. These poor people open their door to a girl in cutoffs, yesterdays smeared makeup, and a confederate flag bikini asking for a jump start. They were the sweetest, kindest people and gladly help me out, just asking me to pay it forward – proof that there still are some really amazing people in this world. Sadly my car battery is so dead that even a jump won’t help.

I call my friend Justin from my work. I have no clue what else to do. I am still pretty limited down in SoCal at this point and don’t know a ton of people. If I wasn’t still slightly buzzed I probably would have been in tears. Justin drives a good half hour to come and rescue me. When he pulls up he sees me sitting on the curb and immediately asks what in the hell happened to me knees. I look down and see that they are all torn up and bloody. I have no recollection of falling down but tell him that that’s what I assume happened. He just smiles and shakes his head, looking at me like with a “how do you get yourself into these messes?” look, which I know all too well.

We charge up my car battery for a good half an hour. Sitting, talking, BSing about work and life. He’s a good guy. Good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. The kind of guy who would give me the shirt off his back if I needed it, the kind of guy who would drive a half an hour out of his away after doing inventory the whole night before to sit with a blonde hot mess with scraped knees while her car battery charges. I try to turn the key and miraculously it starts. I let out an audible gasp of excitement and Justin starts laughing as he sees my face light up and gives me the best hug on the planet.

By the time all is said and done we are both beat, me from the above outlined escapades, and him from being up until 4 AM doing inventory. We decide to head back to my place in Huntington and to lay out by the pool. He picks up a of couple beers on the way back. We bathe in the SoCal sun, smoke a little, and drink a couple of Chimays.

All of a sudden, as we sit, laughing, smiling and telling stories I realize something: maybe what I am wanting is right in front of me. I don’t really know and am scared to take the chance, but could this work for me? Time will tell I guess. But I do know one thing, I have butterflies.

Xoxo
Bradley

Ps. I have not spoken with Bouncer McNutsack since these events occurred. For curiosities sake though, I would like to know what in the hell went down. So Bouncer McNutsack, you know who you are, if you happen to be reading this – what in the hell was that all about? Not only did you fuck me (or not as the case may be), but you also screwed the bartender you were working with who was forced to do all of your closing work while you man-whored it up in the dirty ass bathroom. Seriously? WTF?

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by Nahp Suicide

A column which highlights Suicide Girls and their fave groups.

This week Kewpie Suicide tells us why she hearts SG’s Gay Girls Only group.

Members: 335 / Comments: 63,926

WHY DO YOU LOVE IT?: I love it because it’s a small, intimate group of hilarious girls who aren’t afraid to speak their minds.

DISCUSSION TIP: Hmmm…Don’t talk about Shane from The L Word lol.

BEST RANDOM QUOTE: There are a ton of awesome quotes but I’ll go with “You know you’re a lesbian if you have every season of Xena on DVD.”

MOST HEATED DISCUSSION THREAD: Most threads are pretty mellow but the ‘Ok [Stupid] Cupid‘ thread has a lot of bad date venting that is always entertaining!

WHO’S WELCOME TO JOIN?: The name says it all, gay girls only!

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