I know how important it is to get away....to take a much needed vacation from the daily grind, before you feel like mental exhaustion will overrule your mind (and body) and you start stabbing people, only in your head-hopefully.
That being said, when you go on vacation, the people who you are friends with at home are happy for you (at least, I know I am).
However, those people back home? Their lives will not stop because you are not there. They are still working, paying bills, doing chores, and juggling the stresses of everyday life.
And to be frank? They don't really give a crap what kind of a time you're having because they are too BUSY to care. So, when you keep sending them texts and pictures from your vacation destination of you floating around in the ocean half nekkid (while they are sweating their balls off at 8 o'clock at night--after real work--cutting the grass at their 82 year old mother's house) or drinking tropical beverages with random, drunk people you've never met before (while they are at the doctor's office getting versed on their new heart medication)? They just want to tell you to go bang your ankles...because like I said before, THEY'RE BUSY.
And when you continue to send queer texts (even though you've been warned), eventually, THIS is what's going to happen...
Day 1:
Douche-Canoe: Look at us in the pool! So beautiful here!
Me: That's nice. Hope you're having a good time.
Day 2:
Douche-Canoe: Look at this giant donut we bought! So delicious!
Me: Working. Stop texting me.
Day 3:
Douche-Canoe: Hanging out with these girls on the beach! (sends picture of scantily clad hosers)
Me: Grocery shopping. Stop texting me.
Day 4:
Douche-Canoe: Look at this view from our balcony! Isn't it amazing?
Me: Good for you. At the doctor's office. Stop texting me.
Day 5:
Douche-Canoe: We are at the Ritz-Carlton, having breakfast. It is beautiful here!
Me: We ate at McDonalds. Fuck off.
For the record, I'm not jealous. I'm just busy, WORKING...so I can save my money to go on vacation, where you'll never hear a gahdamn peep from me :)
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
Kicking Ass & Taking Names: Portuguese Old Lady Style
Last Thursday was Sophia Petrillo's 82nd birthday (or as my husband calls her, The Mama). In our family, Sophia is kind of like the Godfather, except she doesn't own any guns, which is a good thing because some lady--who keeps letting her dog shit on the sidewalk if front of her house--would have gotten shot in the ass by now.
In the last few months, Sophia has had some health issues (diagnosed with Epilepsy) and has been extremely verbal about how much aging sucks. She's not taking it lightly and she's fighting it tooth and nail, y'all. The following is a conversation that took place in her hospital room during a recent stay. Several of my siblings were present....
Hospital Check-In Lady: Hello Sophia! How are you?
Sophia: Old.
Hospital Check-In Lady: You 're not old! You look so beautiful for your age!
Sophia: Ppppptttttt....
Hospital Check-In Lady: Sophia, I need to ask you some questions. Is that OK?
Sophia: Yes.
Hospital Check-In Lady: I understand that your primary language is Portuguese. Would you like me to get you a translator?
Sophia: No. My chi-dren gonna help me.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Oh. OK. Let's see...How old are you?
Sophia: Eighty-one.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Wow! Eighty-one! Good for you! You look amazing!
Sophia: Ppppppptttttt......
Hospital Check-In Lady: Where do you live?
Sophia: *accurately gives address*
Hospital Check-In Lady: Do you live alone?
Sophia: Yes, but my son live in apartamente upstayas from me.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Are you abused at home?
Sophia: *looks around the room, puzzled*
Hospital Check-In Lady: Sophia, ARE YOU AFRAID AT HOME? Does anybody abuse you or hit you at home?
Sophia: *looking at my brother* HUH?
My Brother: *speaking Portuguese* Ma, the lady wants to know if you are afraid of us. Do we abuse you or hit you?
Sophia: *a look of disbelief across her face* MY CHIDREN NO HIT ME. I KILL DEM FIRST.
My Sister: She's not kidding.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Well alrighty, then.
In the last few months, Sophia has had some health issues (diagnosed with Epilepsy) and has been extremely verbal about how much aging sucks. She's not taking it lightly and she's fighting it tooth and nail, y'all. The following is a conversation that took place in her hospital room during a recent stay. Several of my siblings were present....
Hospital Check-In Lady: Hello Sophia! How are you?
Sophia: Old.
Hospital Check-In Lady: You 're not old! You look so beautiful for your age!
Sophia: Ppppptttttt....
Hospital Check-In Lady: Sophia, I need to ask you some questions. Is that OK?
Sophia: Yes.
Hospital Check-In Lady: I understand that your primary language is Portuguese. Would you like me to get you a translator?
Sophia: No. My chi-dren gonna help me.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Oh. OK. Let's see...How old are you?
Sophia: Eighty-one.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Wow! Eighty-one! Good for you! You look amazing!
Sophia: Ppppppptttttt......
Hospital Check-In Lady: Where do you live?
Sophia: *accurately gives address*
Hospital Check-In Lady: Do you live alone?
Sophia: Yes, but my son live in apartamente upstayas from me.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Are you abused at home?
Sophia: *looks around the room, puzzled*
Hospital Check-In Lady: Sophia, ARE YOU AFRAID AT HOME? Does anybody abuse you or hit you at home?
Sophia: *looking at my brother* HUH?
My Brother: *speaking Portuguese* Ma, the lady wants to know if you are afraid of us. Do we abuse you or hit you?
Sophia: *a look of disbelief across her face* MY CHIDREN NO HIT ME. I KILL DEM FIRST.
My Sister: She's not kidding.
Hospital Check-In Lady: Well alrighty, then.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Let's Talk About Sex---Salt-n-Pepa, 1991
The following is a recent conversation that I had with Lou (El Pain-o in My Ass-o) at dinner. I CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP, Y'ALL.
The Setting: A Sushi Restaurant
The Cast: Lou, his wife--Linda, Hubby, and Moi
The Scene: Discussing Lou and Linda's recent vacation to Florida
Me: So, you had a nice time in Florida?
Lou: Yeah. We had a really nice time. The weather was beautiful.
Me: That's nice.
Lou: You know what we learned down there?
Me: What?
Lou: Apparently, there's been a very high incidence of STD'S going around in senior communities.
Me: Huh?
Lou: Yep. I guess with the introduction of pills like Cialis and Viagra, there's been an increase in the spread of sexually transmitted diseases down there. As a matter of fact, I heard that there's been a 60% increase, in the last year alone, of older people contracting SHAMALIA (Shuh-mahl-yuh). Unbelievable!
Me: I'm sorry, but WHAT ARE THE OLD GEEZERS CONTRACTING?!
Lou: SHAMALIA!
Me: WHAT THE F*CK IS SHAMALIA?
Lou: Duh! It's a sexually transmitted disease, dummy!
Me: No it isn't, jackhole! Anybody else at this table EVER heard of Shamalia?
Hubby: Nope.
Linda: *blank stare*
Me: Hmmm...Nobody, else has ever heard of it. Do you know why? HELLO? ANYBODY?
Hubby: *blank stare*
Linda: *blank stare*
Lou: *big, fat, blank stare*
Me: Maybe because it's called CHLAMYDIA. Not, SHAMALIA, you bonehead.
Lou: Really?
Me: YES. Really.
Lou: Hey! Don't blame me! I went to a vocational high school! BEFORE THIS, I'd only heard of V.D. and CRABS! You went to the same school, Paul. Tell her!
Paul: I'm not getting involved.
Me: Smart move, Homey.
Epilogue: The newest chapter in my life: Teaching Sex Ed to old perverts. Awesome.
The Setting: A Sushi Restaurant
The Cast: Lou, his wife--Linda, Hubby, and Moi
The Scene: Discussing Lou and Linda's recent vacation to Florida
Me: So, you had a nice time in Florida?
Lou: Yeah. We had a really nice time. The weather was beautiful.
Me: That's nice.
Lou: You know what we learned down there?
Me: What?
Lou: Apparently, there's been a very high incidence of STD'S going around in senior communities.
Me: Huh?
Lou: Yep. I guess with the introduction of pills like Cialis and Viagra, there's been an increase in the spread of sexually transmitted diseases down there. As a matter of fact, I heard that there's been a 60% increase, in the last year alone, of older people contracting SHAMALIA (Shuh-mahl-yuh). Unbelievable!
Me: I'm sorry, but WHAT ARE THE OLD GEEZERS CONTRACTING?!
Lou: SHAMALIA!
Me: WHAT THE F*CK IS SHAMALIA?
Lou: Duh! It's a sexually transmitted disease, dummy!
Me: No it isn't, jackhole! Anybody else at this table EVER heard of Shamalia?
Hubby: Nope.
Linda: *blank stare*
Me: Hmmm...Nobody, else has ever heard of it. Do you know why? HELLO? ANYBODY?
Hubby: *blank stare*
Linda: *blank stare*
Lou: *big, fat, blank stare*
Me: Maybe because it's called CHLAMYDIA. Not, SHAMALIA, you bonehead.
Lou: Really?
Me: YES. Really.
Lou: Hey! Don't blame me! I went to a vocational high school! BEFORE THIS, I'd only heard of V.D. and CRABS! You went to the same school, Paul. Tell her!
Paul: I'm not getting involved.
Me: Smart move, Homey.
Epilogue: The newest chapter in my life: Teaching Sex Ed to old perverts. Awesome.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Margaritas and Vajayjays
We all have friends that we don't see as often as we'd like to. Yet, when we finally get together with those friends, it kinda feels like time has stood still...and you seem to pick up right where you last left off. My friend, Debbie, and I have that kind of a relationship. We've been friends since we were four years old and have remained in each other's lives throughout the years---even when things seemed way too busy or totally off kilter for one, or both of us.
Since we haven't seen each other in a few months, we were finally able to get together on Monday night for a "girls only" Mexican dinner and to celebrate our belated Christmas.
Our conversation inadvertently turned to this....
Me: Ugh. I have an appointment with the gynecologist tomorrow.
Deb: Yuck.
Me: I know. I hate it.
Deb: Me, too.
Me: Last year, the stupid doctor tried to peddle some birth control bullshit called Mirena. You ever heard of it?
Deb: Hmmm...No.
Me: He was all, "It's so easy to use! I can insert it (YOU KNOW WHERE) right here in the office and all you have to do is keep monitoring the string."
Deb: The string?
Me: Yeah, some bullshit about a string hanging out of my hoo-ha and how I'd have to keep checking on it to make sure that it was still there or whatever. I'm sure it was probably invented by a man who wouldn't dream about walking around with a rope hanging out of his wiener. Damn it.
Deb: A STRING? What the f*ck do we look like? Piñatas?!
Me: I KNOW, RIGHT?! I was all, "Look dude, I'm not walking around with a string hanging out of anywhere, let alone monitoring it for changes in length or location or whathaveyou. I'm not a gahdamn weedwacker."
Deb: EXACTLY!
Me: Then I told him about how last year, Paul asked me to help him cut down the weeds in the driveway and the stupid thingy wasn't working right, so I was all, "WHAT THE HELL? THIS WEEDWACKER ISN'T WORKING!" And Paul was all, "Did you check the string?" F*CK THAT.
Deb: That's just GROSS.
Me: Exactly.
Girlfriends are awesome.
Since we haven't seen each other in a few months, we were finally able to get together on Monday night for a "girls only" Mexican dinner and to celebrate our belated Christmas.
Our conversation inadvertently turned to this....
Me: Ugh. I have an appointment with the gynecologist tomorrow.
Deb: Yuck.
Me: I know. I hate it.
Deb: Me, too.
Me: Last year, the stupid doctor tried to peddle some birth control bullshit called Mirena. You ever heard of it?
Deb: Hmmm...No.
Me: He was all, "It's so easy to use! I can insert it (YOU KNOW WHERE) right here in the office and all you have to do is keep monitoring the string."
Deb: The string?
Me: Yeah, some bullshit about a string hanging out of my hoo-ha and how I'd have to keep checking on it to make sure that it was still there or whatever. I'm sure it was probably invented by a man who wouldn't dream about walking around with a rope hanging out of his wiener. Damn it.
Deb: A STRING? What the f*ck do we look like? Piñatas?!
Me: I KNOW, RIGHT?! I was all, "Look dude, I'm not walking around with a string hanging out of anywhere, let alone monitoring it for changes in length or location or whathaveyou. I'm not a gahdamn weedwacker."
Deb: EXACTLY!
Me: Then I told him about how last year, Paul asked me to help him cut down the weeds in the driveway and the stupid thingy wasn't working right, so I was all, "WHAT THE HELL? THIS WEEDWACKER ISN'T WORKING!" And Paul was all, "Did you check the string?" F*CK THAT.
Deb: That's just GROSS.
Me: Exactly.
Girlfriends are awesome.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Like Hair On Soap
I've got some good news AND some bad news.
Today, I'm announcing the winners of my give-a-way! Whoo hoo!
But not before making you sit through a most uncomfortable blog update.
Before I begin, put your Cheerios down. I'd rather not get blamed for you barfing your milk all over your keyboard.
So, a few weeks ago, someone who I am friends with on Facebook, tagged me in the following picture and asked, "Hey, Sally? Is this your friend, Lou?" Mind you, this woman has NEVER, ever met Lou in person. She has only read about him on this blog.
After analyzing the above picture for an entire two seconds, I responded, "Uh....I think we both know it's entirely possible." After all, we all know that he loves to flaunt his bits in public...
Plus? He WAS in California recently. I wouldn't put it past him to wander all about the West Coast flaunting his San Francisco Treats. I just thank Jesus that if it was him, I wasn't there to see that shit in person (FYI...He says it's not him).
This reminds me.....To all of you sickos who have asked about him? Lou is just fine. And he's still a total pain in my ass.
As a matter of fact, you are not going to believe what he did, y'all. This is BIG TIME.
Lou used to tell me (all the time) that he couldn't understand why I lived in Rhode Island. Then he'd make his case against the Ocean State by pointing out that the politics are corrupt, the taxes are high, and the people there are really eccentric (Read: Nuts).
But THEN? What did he do?
Out of the clear blue friggin sky, he sold his house in Massachusetts AND bought a condo in Rhode Island.
BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!
Not only did he move to Rhode Island, which incidentally is made up of 39 cities and towns, y'all. But, he moved to MY town. He now lives ten effin minutes from my front door. Clearly, karma hates me.
BUT WAIT! THERE'S EVEN MORE!
During his lengthy moving process, Lou decided that he wanted a fresh start in his new home. So, he bought all new furniture for his schmancy condo, and gave away most of the fine furnishings that were in his old house (to family and friends). He gave away bedroom sets, dining room furniture, deck furniture, appliances, decorative items, living room furniture, paintings, dishes, clothing, and a whole lot of other really neat stuff.
Then, one day he came to my work and was all, "Linda and I are giving away a bazillion dollars worth of our shit and we'd like you to have this."
Just what I always wanted....a nasty-ass, torso-less, potato-head doll.
Contain your envy, people.
********************************************************
Anywho, on to the good news!
The winners of the personalized *Not for Stabbing Knives (chosen by a random number generator) are...
*Commenter # 4---Laura Runs A Latte
*Commenter #6---The Path Traveled
*Commenter #14---AZ Gypsie
Congratulations, Peeps! Please email me with your contact information to claim your prizes!
Today, I'm announcing the winners of my give-a-way! Whoo hoo!
But not before making you sit through a most uncomfortable blog update.
Before I begin, put your Cheerios down. I'd rather not get blamed for you barfing your milk all over your keyboard.
So, a few weeks ago, someone who I am friends with on Facebook, tagged me in the following picture and asked, "Hey, Sally? Is this your friend, Lou?" Mind you, this woman has NEVER, ever met Lou in person. She has only read about him on this blog.
 |
| Hmm....Is it or isn't it? You be the judge. |
After analyzing the above picture for an entire two seconds, I responded, "Uh....I think we both know it's entirely possible." After all, we all know that he loves to flaunt his bits in public...
 |
| "The Real Lou" He wasn't wearing undergarments. I'm still in therapy. |
This reminds me.....To all of you sickos who have asked about him? Lou is just fine. And he's still a total pain in my ass.
As a matter of fact, you are not going to believe what he did, y'all. This is BIG TIME.
Lou used to tell me (all the time) that he couldn't understand why I lived in Rhode Island. Then he'd make his case against the Ocean State by pointing out that the politics are corrupt, the taxes are high, and the people there are really eccentric (Read: Nuts).
But THEN? What did he do?
Out of the clear blue friggin sky, he sold his house in Massachusetts AND bought a condo in Rhode Island.
BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!
Not only did he move to Rhode Island, which incidentally is made up of 39 cities and towns, y'all. But, he moved to MY town. He now lives ten effin minutes from my front door. Clearly, karma hates me.
BUT WAIT! THERE'S EVEN MORE!
During his lengthy moving process, Lou decided that he wanted a fresh start in his new home. So, he bought all new furniture for his schmancy condo, and gave away most of the fine furnishings that were in his old house (to family and friends). He gave away bedroom sets, dining room furniture, deck furniture, appliances, decorative items, living room furniture, paintings, dishes, clothing, and a whole lot of other really neat stuff.
Then, one day he came to my work and was all, "Linda and I are giving away a bazillion dollars worth of our shit and we'd like you to have this."
 |
| WTF? |
Contain your envy, people.
********************************************************
Anywho, on to the good news!
The winners of the personalized *Not for Stabbing Knives (chosen by a random number generator) are...
*Commenter # 4---Laura Runs A Latte
*Commenter #6---The Path Traveled
*Commenter #14---AZ Gypsie
Congratulations, Peeps! Please email me with your contact information to claim your prizes!
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
I Swear. Therefore, I am.
It's 3:00pm on Tuesday, January 1, 2013 and I've already dropped several F-Bombs. GO ME in two-oh-one-three!
AND THAT'S why I never make New Year's resolutions, y'all. While everybody around me is all, "The new year is upon me and I have resolved to be a better person. I will embrace positivity. I will be nicer. I will focus on changing my behavior. I will stop eating chocolate (KILL ME). I will embrace others and blah, blah, freakin blah....," I'm just shaking my head thinking, Good Lord, people. That's a lot of fuggin pressure! I mean, honestly.....
Sometimes, I swear.
Sometimes, I'm sarcastic.
Sometimes, I want to punch people in the neck.
Sometimes, I EAT COOKIES.
Sometimes, when the phone rings, I look at the caller ID and pretend I'm not home.
Sometimes, I beat myself up over my appearance and lack of motivation.
Sometimes, I feel guilty.
Sometimes, I'd rather be with my friends than with some of my family.
Sometimes, I question every choice I've ever made.
Sometimes, I want to run away.
On the flip side?
I love to laugh....A LOT.
I have a twisted sense of humor and friends who "get" me. I love them!
I'm empathetic and I "ugly cry" often.
Sometimes, I eat healthy! AND EXERCISE!
I'm a good friend.
I am an AWESOME wife to an amazing husband! Right, PC?!
Ditto on being an AWESOME daughter, sister, aunt, etc...
Many times, I am strong.
Most times, I accept myself.
Everyday, I am grateful.
But, you know what else?
I am still the same person today that I was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Sorry for your disappointment, folks (Not, really). But, there will be no New Year's revelations on this channel (You have Oprah for that).
Oh, well....
On a lighter note, today is the 4th anniversary of my blog. Holy crap! I can not believe how time flies sometimes...especially since reaching my 40's (FYI...Middle age sucks donkey balls).
To celebrate my Blogiversary (and the New Year, I suppose), I'm going to give away something that I customized myself and gave to my friend Julia for Christmas. Check it:
Who doesn't want a sharp object with their name on it, y'all? To win one of THREE of these sharp-ass cooking/chopping (*not for stabbing) knives (color may vary), just leave me a comment on this blog telling me what one of your New Year's resolutions is. Or, if you're like me and you have none, tell me so. Also, you could use the comment forum to tell me that you love me and wish I was your BFF. That works, too. I'm flexible. Please note that three winners will be chosen at random (using a counter) one week from today, on January 8th.
Happy Anniversary to Mais Fica! Here's to many, many more years of me corrupting you.
Happy New Year, Bitches!
AND THAT'S why I never make New Year's resolutions, y'all. While everybody around me is all, "The new year is upon me and I have resolved to be a better person. I will embrace positivity. I will be nicer. I will focus on changing my behavior. I will stop eating chocolate (KILL ME). I will embrace others and blah, blah, freakin blah....," I'm just shaking my head thinking, Good Lord, people. That's a lot of fuggin pressure! I mean, honestly.....
Sometimes, I swear.
Sometimes, I'm sarcastic.
Sometimes, I want to punch people in the neck.
Sometimes, I EAT COOKIES.
Sometimes, when the phone rings, I look at the caller ID and pretend I'm not home.
Sometimes, I beat myself up over my appearance and lack of motivation.
Sometimes, I feel guilty.
Sometimes, I'd rather be with my friends than with some of my family.
Sometimes, I question every choice I've ever made.
Sometimes, I want to run away.
On the flip side?
I love to laugh....A LOT.
I have a twisted sense of humor and friends who "get" me. I love them!
I'm empathetic and I "ugly cry" often.
Sometimes, I eat healthy! AND EXERCISE!
I'm a good friend.
I am an AWESOME wife to an amazing husband! Right, PC?!
Ditto on being an AWESOME daughter, sister, aunt, etc...
Many times, I am strong.
Most times, I accept myself.
Everyday, I am grateful.
But, you know what else?
I am still the same person today that I was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Sorry for your disappointment, folks (Not, really). But, there will be no New Year's revelations on this channel (You have Oprah for that).
Oh, well....
On a lighter note, today is the 4th anniversary of my blog. Holy crap! I can not believe how time flies sometimes...especially since reaching my 40's (FYI...Middle age sucks donkey balls).
To celebrate my Blogiversary (and the New Year, I suppose), I'm going to give away something that I customized myself and gave to my friend Julia for Christmas. Check it:
Who doesn't want a sharp object with their name on it, y'all? To win one of THREE of these sharp-ass cooking/chopping (*not for stabbing) knives (color may vary), just leave me a comment on this blog telling me what one of your New Year's resolutions is. Or, if you're like me and you have none, tell me so. Also, you could use the comment forum to tell me that you love me and wish I was your BFF. That works, too. I'm flexible. Please note that three winners will be chosen at random (using a counter) one week from today, on January 8th.
Happy Anniversary to Mais Fica! Here's to many, many more years of me corrupting you.
Happy New Year, Bitches!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
We Have Health Insurance. Go Buy Glasses.
The following is a recent conversation that I had with PC. I didn't stab him in the process. Thanks be to God.
PC: We're out of toothpaste.
Me: No, we're not.
PC: Yes, we are.
Me: No, we're not.
PC: This morning, I had to slice the Crest tube open with a razor blade so I could scrape out enough paste to brush my teeth.
Me: There's toothpaste upstairs in the bathroom closet.
PC: No, there isn't.
Me: Yes, there is.
PC: I looked there. There's none.
Me: Seriously. There's like a shitload of toothpaste up there.
PC: I'm not going to argue with you, BUT? I don't think so.
Me: DUDE....YES.THERE.IS. I PUT IT THERE.
PC: You THINK you put it there.
Me: You're patronizing me. That's kind of like not valuing your life.
PC: I told my father about how I had to cut the toothpaste tube open with a razor blade. He thought it was funny! Hahaha...
Me: The hell, dude? Why d'you tell him that? He's going to think that we live like animals and that I'm a bad wife!
PC: WHAT?! It's funny!
Me: You're blind. Nothing funny about that, Chump.
Later that night, when we got home from work, I dragged his ass upstairs to look in the bathroom closet. THIS is what we saw, people....
I accept your apology, Oh Ye of Selective Vision.
PC: We're out of toothpaste.
Me: No, we're not.
PC: Yes, we are.
Me: No, we're not.
PC: This morning, I had to slice the Crest tube open with a razor blade so I could scrape out enough paste to brush my teeth.
Me: There's toothpaste upstairs in the bathroom closet.
PC: No, there isn't.
Me: Yes, there is.
PC: I looked there. There's none.
Me: Seriously. There's like a shitload of toothpaste up there.
PC: I'm not going to argue with you, BUT? I don't think so.
Me: DUDE....YES.THERE.IS. I PUT IT THERE.
PC: You THINK you put it there.
Me: You're patronizing me. That's kind of like not valuing your life.
PC: I told my father about how I had to cut the toothpaste tube open with a razor blade. He thought it was funny! Hahaha...
Me: The hell, dude? Why d'you tell him that? He's going to think that we live like animals and that I'm a bad wife!
PC: WHAT?! It's funny!
Me: You're blind. Nothing funny about that, Chump.
Later that night, when we got home from work, I dragged his ass upstairs to look in the bathroom closet. THIS is what we saw, people....
 |
| If Honey Boo Boo's father had this much toothpaste in the house, he'd probably still have teeth, y'all. |
I accept your apology, Oh Ye of Selective Vision.
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