Power Thinking, with Dr Morris O'Connor

Power Plans  

The Occupy movement has given us a very clear signal, power is shifting to the hands of the consumers and UBS aren’t that hot on building security. If you’re hot on squatting now might be your last chance to get into a large corporate space. The movement has exposed inequalities in society which have even spread as far as my personal relationships. My wife Pae Pwang, who’s currently occupying the garden shed, has reviewed our marriage and realised I control 99% of the money and have been exploiting her third world ‘resources’ on a daily basis.

I’m taking a corporate response to the situation and inspired by Paul Polman at Unilever I’ve devised the Dr Morris Sustainable Living With A Wife From The Third World Plan. The plan seeks to double the amount of sex and domestic chores I get from her, but there’s a commitment to improve her clothing, allowance and regulate the amount of salt in her diet.

At the heart of my plan is the desire to say the right thing to a woman that’s clearly very pissed off, whilst still essentially doing what I want, dominating the relationship and holding on to all of our spending money. If I give her some nebulous form of empowerment and recognize her desires. i.e stick some solar panels on the roof and get that Cath Kidston teapot she wants, she’ll think she’s with the right husband.

I don’t think anyone other than a woman who was born into poverty would do some of the things I request in bed, so obviously I don’t want the relationship to end. I didn’t use to listen to her whinging, but in the same way Bob at Unilever is on the blower to Greenpeace a bit more now, each week I’m taking Pae for a coffee so she can have a good old moan.

I slipped the plan in note form under the door, but she said if I was really committed to change  I would use all the money I’ve saved not having a wife with equal rights and put it into repairing the emotional damage she’s sustained from being with a man who cries as regularly as I do. She’s also seeking reparations for the tennis elbow she’s got from consistently scrubbing my stained grundies.

I’m going to sit it out, how long really can she last in the shed without food and TV? She’s going to have to really kick off if she wants those demands met, but then there’s always the threat of getting another wife. To a lot of desperate women, I’m quite an attractive package.

Dr Morris O’Connor is the best selling author of Saying The Right Thing To Pissed Off Third World Wives


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Your problems solved, with Holly Harper

Dear Holly,
I am deeply, deeply in love with a woman from work, but I don’t even know her name. We share a lift together every morning and although she doesn’t give me a second glance I am sure that she could grow to love me as I love her. The only real obstacle to our union is that the other day she sort of caught me smelling her hair while she wasn’t looking, and then got a bit upset when she later noticed I was attempting to borrow a few fibres from her sweater. She turned round and said ‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing you smelly little weirdo?’ and I attempted to propose that we make fast, hot love in the lift but my stutter and the dribbling got in the way a bit and she got a bit of spray on her face and she then exited the lift. How can I make her realise she needs me inside her?

Dear Daryl,
It sounds like you’ve got it bad for this lady and I can sympathise because I love Justin Bieber and I want to meet him and have his other love child! I’ve written him a few letters but he just keeps sending me Justin Bieber sticker books and application forms to join the Justin Bieber fan club. I think he must be playing hard to get too. But at least you’re not the boyfriend of our teaching assistant, Miss Stimpson. One time, he came into school with his guitar and was whispering about a big surprise, and we all had to sing along with him when Miss Stimpson came in and then hold up cards that spelled out ‘marry me, Edwina?’. And then the boyfriend got down on one knee and we all cheered but Miss Stimpson was crying a bit and kept trying to yank her boyfriend up and was saying ‘please don’t make me do this in front of the kids’ and ‘Peter, you know I can’t’ and stuff like that and then it went a bit quiet and Miss Stimpson cried a bit more and then her boyfriend got all sad and punched the wall and Mrs Dodkins, our teacher, said we had to stop staring and get on with painting our spaceships.
Hope that helps!