In the battle of the Bullshit blog nicknames, I was confident I had picked a winner. Surprise, I fucked that up.

As I was transitioning in early 2021 from Kieran, working-in-Tucson, to Kieran, full-time-Phoenix-with-no-job, I started calling the wife, “Sugar Mama“. She foolishly promised to support me through what I thought was going to be years of unemployment until I became a ward of the state (social security).

Alas, I was “officially” unemployed for only two weeks. I burned through almost 3 months of unused vacation time filling out online job applications and envisioning a future of poverty and dependence.

I spent the next 6 months on this Bullshit website correcting my past mistakes and carefully rebranding the wife “Sugar Mama” in the most polite tones possible (for me). I thought it was helping. I thought I was doing good…

“What’s this Sugar Mama bullshit,” she said, as she was whipping her swipe finger over my online Bullshit. “I’d rather be the Bear.”

Well, fuck me.

Load 16 tons of kiss-assery and what do you get? Another year older and deeper in debt.

This is how I pictured my Sugar Mama. Showering me in unearned gifts. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

But she would rather be seen as an unpredictable giant of the forest.

Yeah, that’s the look of a woman who has been with me for 35 years. Disappointed, bored and ready to kill all at once. Photo by Janko Ferlic on Pexels.com

What can I say, bears are unpredictable.

I know I probably shouldn’t have started with stupid nicknames in the first place.

I thought I was being original — until I learned just about every blogger on earth has a “cute” word for their spouse and/or children. So even the idea to create a nickname was stupid.

Then to learn I leaned into exactly the wrong one. Is there any man alive who thought his wife would rather be called a “bear” than a “sugar mama”?

It’s almost enough to make me quit this bullshit (blog I mean) and return to my island of inner thoughts — where every idea is original, every simile makes people smile, and every body loves me (especially the ones with vaginas).

Eh. fuck that. If I wanted to live inside my head, I’d just do heroine all day.

In the meantime, let’s see if you people can help me out of this little dilemma…

Leave new suggestions in the comments. I’ll try out the “winner.” Let’s see if my 8 readers can fuck this up as bad as I have.