A friend of mine once told me; "it’s not cheating if you don’t cum". I’ll let you be the judge as to whether this statement is the poetic ideology of a sexual genius, or the abhorrent justifications of a cheating asshole. We can all agree that cheating is universally regarded as a bad thing, although some statistics might have you believe the otherwise. Not to mention that defining cheating is probably more hassle than actually doing it. However, my philanderous friend raises a good question in where does the line between monogamy and cheating end? What about the annual kiss I have to give my Mom at Christmas? What about the weekly kiss I give your mom on her FUPA? What I'm asking is; is there a clear, distinct moment when it becomes clear, like in Bridget Jones? Or is it interpretive and blurry, like in Terminator 2?
Pictured: the clear distinction between monogamy and cheating in western culture
To answer this question with some degree of authority, I consulted with some of my new friends over at Plenty of Fish. Hit the 'Read more' button to find out what they have to say about cheating.
Now before we go into detail, I’ll tell you a story of how the inspiration for this article came about.
I've spent the majority of my working life doing menial tasks in shitty offices for incredibly uninteresting companies. Steel, paper, waste disposal, kitchen appliances, fasteners, car cleaning materials, bird medication, used car showrooms and supermarket bag distribution are about half of the industries I've worked in at some point. It will come as no surprise that my motivation to work in these places was primarily financial as opposed to a love of just doing things to pass the time. During this period I was in my late teens and early twenties when all I wanted to do was play music in bands and kill dragons on World of Warcraft and the idea of a career was an alien prospect. I came across similarly-minded people throughout these jobs, which served only to reinforce my contempt for such a lifestyle.
However, while I was working at a place which sold kitchen appliances as a front for running illegal porn websites (not a joke) I became friends a lovely, middle aged man with a wife and three children. We’ll call this man Jeff, because that happens to be his real name. Jeff was incredibly happy with his life, it seemed. He was financially capable enough to be able to work a low paying job and still support his family, and didn't rely on any form of benefits. On the surface, Jeff appeared to be a likeable, well-rounded gentleman. One day, Jeff surprised me by outright confessing that he regularly cheats on his wife with multiple women, after letting it slip that he loves "...putting a thumb down the poo pipe, but never with the wife". I questioned his motives for such infidelity, of course, but Jeff was adamant that he loved doing it and would continue to do it for the remainder of his marriage. The company we worked at soon went into administration so me and everyone else went our separate ways.
Cut to seven years later, and here I sit with a message from the very same Jeff in my inbox. But it’s not me he’s messaging, it’s a girl on Plenty of Fish named Laura who just happens to also be me. I can’t deny that I feel a smug satisfaction at the possibilities which have opened up, and I'm kind of reminded of the scene in Goldeneye when Sean Bean reveals himself to be the Janus Syndicate leader to Pierce Brosnan, mostly because it’s an awesome scene and nothing to do with what I'm talking about.
I've spent the majority of my working life doing menial tasks in shitty offices for incredibly uninteresting companies. Steel, paper, waste disposal, kitchen appliances, fasteners, car cleaning materials, bird medication, used car showrooms and supermarket bag distribution are about half of the industries I've worked in at some point. It will come as no surprise that my motivation to work in these places was primarily financial as opposed to a love of just doing things to pass the time. During this period I was in my late teens and early twenties when all I wanted to do was play music in bands and kill dragons on World of Warcraft and the idea of a career was an alien prospect. I came across similarly-minded people throughout these jobs, which served only to reinforce my contempt for such a lifestyle.
However, while I was working at a place which sold kitchen appliances as a front for running illegal porn websites (not a joke) I became friends a lovely, middle aged man with a wife and three children. We’ll call this man Jeff, because that happens to be his real name. Jeff was incredibly happy with his life, it seemed. He was financially capable enough to be able to work a low paying job and still support his family, and didn't rely on any form of benefits. On the surface, Jeff appeared to be a likeable, well-rounded gentleman. One day, Jeff surprised me by outright confessing that he regularly cheats on his wife with multiple women, after letting it slip that he loves "...putting a thumb down the poo pipe, but never with the wife". I questioned his motives for such infidelity, of course, but Jeff was adamant that he loved doing it and would continue to do it for the remainder of his marriage. The company we worked at soon went into administration so me and everyone else went our separate ways.
Cut to seven years later, and here I sit with a message from the very same Jeff in my inbox. But it’s not me he’s messaging, it’s a girl on Plenty of Fish named Laura who just happens to also be me. I can’t deny that I feel a smug satisfaction at the possibilities which have opened up, and I'm kind of reminded of the scene in Goldeneye when Sean Bean reveals himself to be the Janus Syndicate leader to Pierce Brosnan, mostly because it’s an awesome scene and nothing to do with what I'm talking about.
Jeez, talk about an opportunity. But in my head, all I can think is that this is a man with all the hallmarks of a real person. He’s not a bad man, and I’ve kept up to date with his life on Facebook like the world’s worst stalker. If this was a man who didn’t have three daughters and a wife, I would have taken him to manipulation town for the amusement of anyone reading this. But this time, I just couldn’t do it.
Jeff was understandably reluctant to tell me anything other than ‘looking to see where things go,’ or ‘depends if I meet the right person’. In order to get some information out of him I had to drop a truth bomb.
This was my golden opportunity to try and convince this man that he had no reason to be a serial cheater, given everything he had. A lot of times people will cite cheating as an addiction, and most of the time those people will be talking shit. Although I hadn't spoken personally with this man for several years, I believed I knew enough about him to declare that he wasn't addicted to anything.
I couldn't leave it there. I had more digging to do.
By that logic, I've never cheated on Metallica, but I digress.
Our conversation went back and forth with him being reluctant to say anything which could condemn him further, and me using vague analogies in order to convince him I was on his wavelength. Surprisingly, it didn’t work. But I did notice something; Jeff hadn’t been online for nearly a week. There were two reasons for this: either he was hiding low because he was scared I knew too much, or he’d blocked me. I took the last course of action before admitting defeat.
Our conversation went back and forth with him being reluctant to say anything which could condemn him further, and me using vague analogies in order to convince him I was on his wavelength. Surprisingly, it didn’t work. But I did notice something; Jeff hadn’t been online for nearly a week. There were two reasons for this: either he was hiding low because he was scared I knew too much, or he’d blocked me. I took the last course of action before admitting defeat.
Surprise surprise, I get this response:
In all honesty I was slightly gutted, I was kind of hoping Jeff had learnt his lesson; that playing with fire will eventually melt your cock off. Anyway I didn’t text him, I had no intention of carrying this on any further. This thing had been an experiment in how far a man will go for sex, despite the ridiculous risks involved.
Come the next evening, I found this in my inbox:
Come the next evening, I found this in my inbox:
So, in my best attempt at a Michael Caine style voiceover epilogue, I sent him a final farewell.
And for good measure:
On a personal note, Jeff was an important factor in motivating me to become a better person. I was perplexed that on the surface he appeared to be a perfect husband with a picturesque life, but kept something sinister from the people he loved the most. It was him that peaked my interest in the human psyche and pushed me to finish my psychology degree. So in a way, I guess I owe Jeff a thank you.
On next week’s Plenty of Catfish: No more of this emotional garbage. I'm going balls out wind-up on a guy who wants to poke a tranny. Until next time!
On next week’s Plenty of Catfish: No more of this emotional garbage. I'm going balls out wind-up on a guy who wants to poke a tranny. Until next time!
By Joe Turner
Joe is one of the many writers we have at Foul Entertainment and the author and deviser of Plenty Of Catfish. He is a main stay on the voice cast for Foul Fiction. He's also responsible for the bulk of the artistic design in our upcoming gaming department.
Joe is one of the many writers we have at Foul Entertainment and the author and deviser of Plenty Of Catfish. He is a main stay on the voice cast for Foul Fiction. He's also responsible for the bulk of the artistic design in our upcoming gaming department.
