Cheat: A Man's Guide to Infidelity

INTRODUCTION

If you even glanced at the front cover of this book, you know what it’s about. And if you’re some weirdo who picks up a book and starts reading it without looking at the front cover first, this is a book for men about cheating. Let’s get two things straight:

1. This book is gender specific for one reason: we’re dudes. If we were chicks, we would’ve written a book to help women act like pigs. But we’re not, so we didn’t. Besides, women don’t need any help in the deceit department. That’s not a cheap shot. It’s a respect thing. With this book, we’re trying to up our game to reach their levels.

2. We’re not telling you that you should cheat. We’re telling you how to cheat. Understand that. If you do something you’re not proud of after you read this book, don’t start whining that the book made me do it or it wasn’t my fault.

You did want to do it, and it is your fault. And don’t cry if you get caught. Getting busted is part of the game. Nothing is 100-percent guaranteed in life. The unexpected can always happen. So don’t try to sue us after you get pinched, like some tub of shit who blames Taco Bell after a heart attack.

At some point, at some time, most men cheat. This book is predicated on that fact. We figured it was about time someone sat down and wrote a how-to on the subject. After all, if you’re going to cheat, it’s better for everyone if you don’t get caught. This guide, if you take it seriously and pay attention, will teach you to cheat successfully.

Yes, seriously.

This book will take you step by step through the entire process of cheating, from choosing your mark to keeping glitter out of your pubes. We will break down this ancient art, present possible pitfalls, and provide you with solutions, all to make you a better cheater. This is information you need, especially in these harsh times when outrageous statements in divorce court such as she’s used to a certain lifestyle or demands of forty grand a month in child support in order to feed a kid Froot Loops are not considered highway robbery. This is a very dangerous time to be a man if you are even thinking about stepping out.

The first rule of successful cheating is Own your own shit. If you’re going to step out, you’ve gotta be a man about it. Control is key. Assess your situation, form a strategy, execute your plan, and take no prisoners.

Do you wanna get your dick wet or not? Then stop being a pussy.

A big part of not getting busted is recognizing what type of cheater you are or will be. This stems directly from your personality traits. There are guys who cheat for sex, guys who cheat for the rush, and guys who cheat for romance. Depending on your style, different rules and regulations apply to the approach. Not every cheat will play out in the same fashion. And women, diverse as they are, are also going to affect the circumstances. You need to be as familiar with her personality as you are with your own. We’re going to cover all of this ground thoroughly.

See, guys tend to think that fucking around is black and white: you either do it or you don’t. Looking at it that way is grounds for incrimination. The gray area is where to get all that sweet, discreet, extramarital ass. Infidelity is an incredibly complex endeavor, so you need to have your shit together.

When it comes to scoring some side puss, this book will be the best friend you’ve ever had. Of course, you could toss this book aside and go take advice from your real-life best friend. That’s probably not a bad idea. After all, he’s an actual person who loves you, and he might even buy you beers while you discuss the matter. It’s just that he won’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.

We do know what the fuck we’re talking about. Everything in this publication—facts, philosophies, opinions, advice—comes from legitimate, hands-on experience. We’ve cheated, and now that we have put that part of our lives behind us, we’re sharing what we’ve learned. This information has been tried, tested, and lived. The About the Authors shit usually comes at the end of a book, but in this case, you should know why you can trust us.

Bill Burr

I grew up in the suburbs of Boston. I got hammered, I got arrested, and along the way, I hung out with a lot of damaged people. I used to think it was because I found them interesting, but one day I realized that I was kind of fucked up too.

I did well in school through the eighth grade. But when I got to high school, I choked like Peyton Manning in the playoffs. So I began taking work in warehousing, sales, and construction. I hated having to be someplace. I hated having a boss. And I hated sitting across from someone as he reviewed my progress report, while I waited to see if I was going to make another twenty-five cents an hour.

To this day, I don’t use GPS because I hate listening to that voice telling me what to do. Make a left in two point two—go fuck yourself, lady!

I know my anger at the GPS computer voice is misdirected. I tried working it out in therapy, but it never really took. Sitting around talking about your feelings and crying because somebody stole your crayons in the late 1970s was just stupid after a while. Shit happened. It sucked. And now I’m like this.

In 1992 I began doing stand-up. It was the perfect job for me. And during my seventeen years of nonstop touring, I’ve lived a life that I’m proud of. But there are a lot of things I’ve done that I’m not proud of. And that’s the shit you are going to read about in this book.

My stories and insights into cheating are drawn from the most miserable and exciting periods in my life. Now I’m an old man—or at least too old to have kept living the way I was. I won’t act as though I was a saint or judge you for what you’re doing. No, I’m paying my knowledge forward.

Seriously: why should another man come home to find his wardrobe burned up on a three-foot patch of grass in front of his apartment complex when a retired piece of shit like me could offer some information that might prevent it? Finding the person you’re supposed to be with isn’t easy. You should be able to keep your sneakers. Good luck. This book will help.

Joe DeRosa

I have been single for all of my thirty-four years on this planet, with the exception of a few short relationships. What the hell does a guy who’s pretty much always been single know about cheating? I assure you: dating a woman is dating a woman, no matter how lax the circumstances appear to be. Being single teaches you a lot about monogamy. Some people—mostly the married, or taken, folks—think that being single is a free-for-all; that you can do anything you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want. They picture your sexual life as being the kind of perverted indulgent adventure you could have only if you were touring with Def Leppard in the eighties.

This notion is about as true as saying, Def Leppard are still as good as they were in the eighties. The idea that at any point in your life you can live like a wild gunman when it comes to sex and dating, free from any threat of consequence, is a pipe dream. Someone will eventually shoot you in the back.

Just because you’re single, it doesn’t mean that you are not cheating. We’ll get into the logistics of that later in the book. But every woman you ever date, at every stage of the relationship, beginning with the very first time you sleep together, wants to know she’s the one. (Of course, there are exceptions, but they are rare.) That brings up a very confusing question: If you can’t sleep with other women when you’re married, and you can’t sleep with other women when you have a girlfriend, and you’re not supposed to sleep with other women when you’re just dating someone—when the hell can you sleep with other women? I’m here to answer that question. Throughout my years of bachelorhood, I’ve had to stay on my toes: cleaning up after myself, hiding, dodging phone calls, looking over my shoulder, changing names to protect the innocent. These devious behaviors aren’t just for guys with wives and proper girlfriends. In fact, I’ve been at my worst when I’ve been most uncommitted.

My experience shows that having a few different women in your life is not just an ego stroke or an attempt to fuel your inner pimp, it’s economical. Guys have biological clocks too. Once we hit our forties, if we’re not married, in great shape, or rich, it’s fucking over. No man wants to be the old drunk at the nightclub trying to pick up young chicks, or the creepy uncle at the family reunion freaking out his niece’s girlfriends. I’m still cool! I listen to Nirvana!

I want to age with dignity. So sometimes I’ve juggled a bit in pursuit of the one. It speeds things up and ensures that you’re spending your time as effectively as possible. This approach forces you to shit or get off the pot—and start figuring out what you’re really looking for.

Robert Kelly

I am what you call a Rock Star cheater. Or what women call a piece of shit. I have cheated on every girl I’ve ever been with since the seventh grade except one: the first girl who cheated on me. That’s right, I was cheated on first. I had hopes and dreams of becoming part of the utopian monogamist world that people have been telling me about my whole life. You know:

Boy meets girl. Girl and boy kiss under an apple tree. Boy carves their names into the tree inside a heart. They stay together until they’re old enough to get married. They have kids and pass down the same traditions over and over again till the end of time.

It should be:

Boy meets girl. Girl and boy kiss under an apple tree. Boy carves their names into the tree inside a heart. Then girl fucks boy’s best friend in front of the rectory where boy’s grandmother works caring for the priest from the local Catholic church. Girl gets pregnant with boy’s best friend’s child. Girl breaks up with boy. Then boy finds out his mom is cheating on his second stepfather with his soon-to-be third stepdad, who is Mom’s boss. Boy cries in apple tree.

That’s real life.

Now, I’m not blaming that girl or anyone else for the road I took in life. Nor am I apologizing for it. I cheated for the past twenty years because it was fun and amazing. What a crazy fucking ride. To be with more than two chicks in one night! No, fuck that, to be with more than four chicks in one night!

Right now you’re thinking, Fuck that! No way you banged four different chicks in one night. Okay. I didn’t have sex with all of them. I’m not superman. I’m a one-and-done kind of guy. But to have manipulated all those social situations just to get someone to be into me sexually was an amazing power to have. To be that close to getting caught and hurting someone you really don’t want to hurt—but you just have to go for it. It’s like Tom Cruise in Top Gun. He had to take it to the limit every time he got into that cockpit. He didn’t want to hurt his wingman, but he had to feel the rush.

Looking back on all my relationships, thank God I did what I did. Otherwise I would have married—or even worse, had a family with—the wrong fucking girl. Not to mention, I never would have had all the fucking-great, holy-shit-wow sexual experiences I have had in my lifetime. I’ll never have to look back wistfully and say I wish I’d been adventurous, because I did it all: from one-night stands; to girls who thought I would marry them; to the prostitutes and massage girls in this great country and all the way to the termas in Brazil and the women in the windows of Amsterdam; to all the other girls who touched my front bottom so I could feel that feeling of lust, passion, or dare I say love—even if it wasn’t real. I could pretend for a moment. I could be whoever I wanted to be or whoever they wanted me to be.

I have been through it all: I have gotten caught, I have gotten away, and I have caught girls cheating on me. I have done every cheat in the book. And I completed my journey without losing everything, and found who I really was, who I really loved, and who really loved me. There were consequences, and some of them sucked. I had to question what really mattered. But that’s what life is all about, isn’t it?

This book gives you access to all of our wisdom. We’ve also talked to other cheaters, compared notes, and compiled the first known comprehensive document in this field to help other men. Of course, along the way we had to change a few names and details to protect the skanky.

This book will be good for you even if you’re not cheating or would never think about cheating on the woman you love. Why? Because you’re probably lying. If you are a man, the odds that you will commit some form of adultery are 92 percent.

Yeah, we did just pull that number out of our asses, but you know we’re right.

How does that old expression go? If you’re going to do something, you might as well do it right.

This book is not a pontification.

This is not a hypothesis.

This is not a theory.

This is HOW TO CHEAT.

— Chapter 1 —

So You’ve Decided to Cheat

Welcome to the Brotherhood

Let us be the first to say, Welcome.

Welcome to one of the largest fraternities known to man. The Fraternity of Cheaters is an organization that has been around since the beginning of time. It has no brochure, no sales call, no advertising whatsoever. So how do you join? It’s easy. The invitation is in your balls.

Just about every man you know has a pair of balls. Even if one of your buddies has only one testicle, it doesn’t matter. At some point, he too will become a member of the club: the sheer volume of sexual urges that every man fights through on a daily basis will guarantee it.

If females had any idea of the full extent of the uncontrollably filthy thoughts that run through our minds in the course of a single hour, they would be amazed that any man has learned how to tie his shoes, to say nothing of coming up with the iPod and Rogaine.

Yes, men are pretty impressive. We have invented trains, subways, automobiles, aeronautics, space exploration, cures for diseases, and more—all while trying to tune out the urge to go fuck something.

Members of the opposite sex may roll their eyes at what they consider to be a lame excuse. That makes sense: females aren’t wired the way we are. Plus, men have been known to roll their eyes at women for talking about the difficulty of going through a pregnancy. So it all evens out.

This book is not about trashing women. It’s about helping men deal with their sexual urges in a way that won’t destroy all the good things that they’ve worked for. We are going to help you bang something on the side every once in a while without the whole thing blowing up in your face.

Now, let’s get back to talking about your balls.

Your balls talk to you. And as a man, as much as you fight the urge, every now and then you have to listen.

Balls are why the brotherhood knows no boundaries. There are no secret handshakes, no monthly dues, and no halls of justice for meetings. Yet the fraternity thrives at the highest levels of power and influence and among the poorest of the poor. It is not held in check by the borders of any nation, the power of any church, or the iron hand of any dictator. Men do not listen to any of these organizations when it comes to their sexual decisions.

But they do listen to their balls.

Most of the men you pass walking down the street are your brothers in crime. And yes, many people consider cheating a crime. Our world defines man’s most natural urge for sexual variety to be a personality defect. If he acts on that desire, he is a bad person, or a weak one, or simply a piece of shit.

The reason why no one talks about the brotherhood is simple: shame and guilt. Both of these emotions loom large in the game of cheating. This book exists to wipe them out.

For God’s sake, you don’t have to be a chemist (sorry, we’re sick of the rocket-scientist reference) to notice the avalanche of powerful men taken down because they indulged in