My Husband is a Whore…Part II

English: A peanut butter and jelly sandwich, m...

Annoying shit my husband does: First of all I want to say that I love this man more than chocolate! It’s true…and believe me when I say I REALLY love chocolate. He is super cute, and says all kinds of nice things to me, and buys me shit I don’t need and always looks at me like I am the only girl he sees! These are many of my favorite things about him. We have been hanging out together since around 1987. We realized back then that we basically were 2 twisted souls combined in one…so we jumped on the ride and we’re still going. Hands in the air and everything. The husband was doing some annoying shit the other day, and I told him that I was going to write a blog about all the annoying shit he does, and everybody is going to know. His response was… “Yeah..and you could call it my annoying husband who is a whore!” Apparently I say whore a lot. I looked back through my old posts and Yep….I say whore a lot. I have also realized that because I use whore a lot in my blog, you would not believe the things people type into google and other search engines that bring them straight to me. (That is for another post on another day.)

 

So…aside from being super cute, the husband has this way of also being super annoying. Like when any crisis is happening, such as one of the kids arms is falling off and blood is gushing everywhere and the kid is screaming at the top of their lungs… (no worries…we found the arm) ūüėČ … The husband is mister calm, cool and collected.

 

The husband: “I got this handled..no need to freak out, everything is okay! We will find so and so’s arm, it will be reattached, and all will be okay.”

 

Me: “Oh my freaking crap…my BABBBYYYY….There is blood on my babbbyyy…Do something…Oh my gosh…HELP MY BABYYYY.”

 

Yeah…that’s usually my reaction. The husband though….nah, stuff like that doesn’t even faze him. You want to know what fazes him though? A little coffee spilling on his shirt. Yeah…that sends him into a freak the frick out. He can not handle life if he accidentally spilled some coffee on his shirt .. Or here’s another example…

 

The husband: “Honey…are the clothes in the dryer finished yet?”

 
ME: “I don’t know dear…why don’t you go and check?”

 
The husband: “Um..these clothes are still damp.”

 

Me: “Well…. considering we are late as fuck you are just going to have to wear damp clothes.”

 
Holy frijoles you would think the world has stopped revolving!

 
The husband the entire time we are out: “I can’t take these clothes… seriously…. the dampness is bugging me so bad. We need to just go home….these clothes are so damp”

 
Are you fricken kidding me with this? This guy is the essence of calm when one of our kids has lost an arm, or leg…but put on a slightly damp shirt and OH FUCK!!! I don’t get it! Another annoying thing my ever so sweet husband does, and has always done since I have known him. I know many people have the thing about not wanting to be late. I understand that always being late to things can be really devastating for some folks…but I am not one of those people. I have tendencies of running late. Do you realize what I have to do before I can even leave the house? The things that involve getting your hair and face presentable take some time. This perfection can not just be achieved in 2 minutes time. There are things that have to take place before I can see the public. Why do men not understand this? Beauty takes time…So GET OVER IT!! He does not understand why it takes me so long to get ready, well I can’t understand why it takes him so long to go poop. Seriously….you sit down, push some puppies into the pool, do some wiping and washing..and you’re on your way. If your going to take 45 minutes to drop a load…I’m going to take ALL the damn time I need to get ready. That’s it.

 
One of my most favorite annoying things he does…is the fake I’m asleep trick when one of the kids needs something. Okay…you were just sitting there watching boxing on t.v., as a matter of fact…you were kind of yelling at the t.v., and from the other room we here…”Mom, Dad, I need you…NOWWWWW!”…Well…obviously I am ignoring it because I don’t want to get up…but then I look over and you have conveniently fallen asleep within 3 seconds. Uh…I call bullshit!

 
We are not much for fast food joints. I’m not saying that I am against them…I just don’t frequent them much at all. On the rare occasion that we happen to pull in to a drive thru…the very last person you want driving the vehicle is my husband. Trust me on this. I don’t know what his problem with ordering into a box is, but he just cannot take it. He gets all flustered and stressed out…I see the pain in his face…and ABSOLUTELY every time he says everything wrong!! Seriously, how hard is it to order 4 cheeseburgers? He just can’t seem to do this and ends up ordering shit no one even wanted, and getting all crabby and it usually ends up with him saying, “You guys order….I can’t talk in this thing!”

 
Me : “I know the box seems scary…but all you have to do is talk in it sweetheart. It’s really quite simple.”

 
Husband : blink, blink, blink.

 

 
Another thing I really love to do is totally screw up his hair. Let me explain. My husband has no hair. And the little he does have, he shaves it off. So he basically has¬†stubble¬†on top of his head…and every time I mess up his hair he gets all pissy and walks off to the bathroom mumbling crap like “Why do you always have to mess up my hair?…now I have to fix it again.”

 
Well…..You don’t have any hair…so what the fuck are you fixing! You’re actually brushing the¬†stubble¬†and of course because he doesn’t want me to do it…I will do it….repeatedly!! I love when he gets all flustered. Now before everyone gets freaky deaky and thinks I am some horrible shrew to my husband, and how dare I call him a whore…for the record…It doesn’t bother him, so it shouldn’t bother you. I actually think he likes it when I call him a whore…*wink wink! He knows me more than anyone in this world and knows how¬†inappropriate¬†I am, and likes hanging out with me anyway. He can be very annoying but I am pretty damn sure I can surpass him in the annoying department. But I suppose that is what marriage is all about. Annoying the crap out of each other, but accepting it because you love this person enough to take the bad with the good. My guy is the perfect guy for me! We are like peas and carrots…or peanut butter and jelly. He can annoy the holy bejesus out of me…but he’s cute, and usually gets the right flavor of Ben and Jerry’s… so I guess I’ll keep him around.

 

A video for you! ~

Advertisements

My trip through satan’s workshop..

RMS Titanic

Why does shopping with kids suck so bad? Don’t even answer that. Everyone already knows why. It’s not like going to walmart doesn’t already suck¬†immensely¬†but add in taking your kids with you and you might as well call this trip what it is….Your trip through satans workshop! I have seriously thought about how one of my biggest nightmares in life is being trapped in walmart with no way out. You’re just walking and walking trying to find an exit and there is no exit. No way out…no doors, no windows…just motorized carts everywhere, butt cracks, people that don’t use¬†deodorant¬†and screaming kids. And you can’t get out!! You are there FOREVERRRR!! Unless you are loaded with extra cash, and can choose any store you want to shop in, and have enough money to pay for a baby sitter so you don’t have to take the kids…then shopping is a nightmare. Let’s start with just finding a place to park. What the frick is wrong with people anyway….you see a parking spot that looks pretty good, and actually has some room to get your kids out of the car, so you grab it, and 2 seconds after you pull in some asshole decides that he can’t park anywhere else but literally 2 inches from where you just parked. And of course it is the side that the kids are getting out of. Two spaces down is an open spot…but NO…he likes the one next to you when you need to get a shit load of little people out! Thanks dude!! So you finally squeeze the last kid out of the 1 inch space provided and off we go into the store of hell!

You grab a cart, but the kids want the friggin car cart. The one that looks like every kid ever has pissed, puked, and shit all over it, and now your kids want to get in it¬†because¬†it’s so fun pretending to be driving with the herpes steering wheel. Who the flip came up with these nasty things anyway?….Not only do the kids fight the whole damn time about who gets to drive it….but have you ever tried to turn one of those titanic boat carts? It’s impossible. Not only do you look like a complete dork pushing around a bus, but then you try and turn down an aisle and the¬†centrifugal¬†force that occurs from the muscle you had to use to turn starts a whole domino thing and your trying to straighten it out before it takes out the entire case of cheeseballs in a tub, but at this point it’s like the cart is now taking you for a ride because you have lost all control and that boat is going DOWN! I know..shit just got real. These carts are so friggin lame too because most of it is nasty herpes with a side of pink eye infested kid toy, and about a 1/3 of it is actual cart space provided for your crap. So the kids are fighting, you get some stuff in the cart and without fail..

 
“Mom, I have to pee.” Are you friggin kidding me?

 
“But dear…you peed 3 times before we left”..

 
“I’m going to pee my pants right now..I have to gooooooo”.. Yaaay,.. I love shopping!

 
“FINE…let’s go pee then…!”

 
There is no way the titanic is fitting in a stall, so I leave the cart, take ALL the kids because you can’t just leave one floating around walmart… (they say that’s bad parenting). Trust me on this though…if someone found my 6 yr.old, they would be the one running in fear. So here we go to fit all our asses into a stall. Now they have those nifty “family restrooms.” I call bullshit!!! Those things SUCK! They are always Gross! Does anybody know how to use a toilet anymore? Is this a lost art form? Why is their shit and piss on the floor, and the wall, and the sink? Why is this a thing? And why is it always so friggin wet in a public restroom? Who the hell is showering in these damn things? Finally done peeing , you make¬†positive¬†sure that no one else has to pee or poop at all because like hell you are going through that again. Everyone swears they don’t have to go… But you do realize that they are lying right? No.. they don’t have to go…not until you get all the way across the store to the produce will someone magically have to pee again. So your trying to get the stuff as quick as possible in the cart and get the flip out of the store. Of course everyone is fighting now, and crabby, and you can’t think for even 2 seconds, so you decide to pull off in an aisle that is not being occupied to threaten the kids lives, collect your thoughts, and figure out a plan to get through this place quickly. Listen to me about this….it does not matter what aisle you pick, you will find the most desolate aisle in the store, and as soon as you enter it, some schmo will need the very thing you are standing in front of. I swear this happens every time. Here your thinking, okay..things are out of control, I’m just going to pull off in front of the maple nut goodies and collect my thoughts because who in there right mind would ever want a maple nut goodie? Yeah…well, I can guarantee if you stop in front of the maple nut goodies, there will be a schmo that comes into that aisle, and stands there with that look like, “you and your spawn are in my way…I need the maple nut goodies!” So now you have to take your screaming kids, and your fucking titanic bus and move out of the way because your blocking the way of someones maple nut goodies! At this point I am ready to shove those maple nut goodies up someones…..You get the idea.

 
I’m just ready to say screw it and buy some vodka and chocolate and call it good. I know for certain if I just left the groceries and got some vodka, I would run smack dab into every person I ever knew in life! I’m sure of it! Even the doctor that birthed me, I would run into in the middle of walmart with the family size gigantor bottle of vodka and a bunch of screaming fighting kids and he would give me that look of “why did you pro create?” Every so often you get the added bonus of one of your kids puking or having a pooping accident in the middle of the store. I remember the blow out diaper that happened and basically every step my kid took plops of poop fell out onto the floor leaving what looked like a trail of bread crumbs, but that trail was NO bread crumbs. Now try and get through a store with poop falling out of your kids ass, screaming kids, and trying to push the SS Titanic, all the while hoping that people don’t see that the trail of poop is actually coming from your kid. Fun Times! The point of this story is just to say for the love of pete…DO NOT take your kids shopping. Pay the 50 dollars or even 100 if that’s what it takes for a sitter. Then you can go to walmart and wait around for the poor person that needs to pull off and go and get yourself some maple nut goodies.

April 15th 2013 ~ We’ll keep on Running…

This is for Martin Richard! A little 8 yr. old boy. ¬†He was my little boy, and your little boy, and every little boy ever. ¬†When I see his sweet face, all I can see is every child everywhere that deserves to live in peace. We all deserve peace, but the children even more so, because they are the future. OUR future! They need to know that they live in a world that is safe, and loving, and peaceful. ¬†I know that is not reality….but it is something to work towards. ‚̧

martin-richard-3

” Cut me down, but it’s you who will have further to fall.” To all the runners that got up today and still ran for the people that were hurt, and will get up tomorrow and keep on running. You are Titanuim!!

Junk Food confessions from a Junk Food whore:

Chocolate Bug

Oh crap…I said whore again! ¬†Lately I have been seeing these videos around on the internet and I find them to be hilarious as well as very informative. Not really informative…but hilarious. So…I decided what a good idea, I will blog about my junk food confessions, clear my conscience, and put ALL my secrets out there for the whole world to see. Not that the whole world is reading my blog…or even that the whole world cares about what I eat…but here it goes. First I must tell you that I love junk food. It’s true. I have an addiction. A bad addiction to junk food. Now I know that junk food is full of horrible, awful things, and we should not be putting all that in our bodies…blah, blah, blah! It’s not like I am not aware of my problem…I just really like sprinkles, when they are on top of a cupcake. And you need to always pick a cupcake because no one ever expects you to share a cupcake. If they do, then there is something really wrong with that person and you need to run as fast as you can…and take the cupcake with you. I eat as healthy as possible most of the time. I eat salads and veggies, and hummus, and salmon. But there is NO way I am going to walk around on Easter day and eat a friggin kale chip! You can forget it. I am making a reese’s peanut butter egg casserole with reese’s eggs, chocolate syrup, whip cream, and sprinkles…and I am making it my bitch!! So here are some things I am going to come clean about.

Confession number 1 – I will eat anything covered in chocolate. When I say anything…I mean ANYTHING!! I am not kidding on this one. I have eaten chocolate covered ants, chocolate covered grasshoppers, chocolate meat, chocolate garlic clove, and I would seriously consider eating my kids toenail clippings if they were covered in chocolate. I would consider it…then I would do it!

Confession number 2 – The 6 yr. old had some M&M’s in her backpack. These mofo’s had been in there ALL day, and they were not in a package. I’m talking they were free floating M&M’s and were in the bottom of her backpack. On the car ride home she pulled them out holding them in her grubby little paws and asked me if I wanted them. I said no thanks. She dropped them back in and when we got home, I pilfered through her backpack, found the nasty half melted, disease ridden M&M’s and ate them. Just take a second and think about that….Yep…I ate them!

Confession number 3 – Most people who know me, also know that I could eat chips and salsa every day for the rest of my life and die happy. I always have salsa in my house. ALways!! When I am eating chips and salsa, I am not sharing chips and salsa. I was eating some chips and salsa and I was down to my last 2 chips and I had just enough salsa to perfectly fit the 2 chips. I dropped a chip on the floor, and the dog came running over thinking he got himself a treat, but little did he know that I would seriously fuck him up if he touches that damn chip! It was like a stand off in my kitchen. The dog on one side of the chip. I’m on the other, and I’m like you touch it you little fucker….and I will cut you!! I’ll make it look like an accident too….um, forget that last part…anyway…I dove for that friggin chip, and in the process fell on the floor, scratched up my arm, grabbed the chip, got up and did a victory dance at the dog… because I am NOT sharing.

Confession number 4 – on the very first day I started this blog, I was eating Ben and Jerry’s, right now I am eating Ben and Jerry’s. ūüôā I eat WAY too many Ben and Jerry’s.

Confession number 5 – I have eaten reese’s for breakfast more times than I will admit here. I made a salad and had carrots, and cucumbers, and broccoli in it, and I thought..hm, I wonder if adding a reese’s would taste good. So I did….and it was good!

The last confession that I will actually admit to is I bought some really fancy chocolate all pretty wrapped for my kids teachers, and it sat on my dresser and kept staring at me, so I ate it. Then I had to go buy more, and ate it too. 3rd times a charm right? Nope..in this case, 4th times a charm. If there is the slightest chance that any of my kids teachers are reading this right now, um… it was the dog’s fault. I realize that doesn’t even make sense but I figure you have heard every excuse possible applied to any situation…sooo, yeah..it was the dog’s fault! Well…now that I have cleared the air, and come clean about my secrets I feel like a changed person. I am going to end this now and go see if I can find some extra M&M’s to add to my americone dream! What’s your secret??…

 

 

Top 10 reasons why cleaning toilets SUCK!

English: Ancient roman latrines / latrinae, Os...

English: Ancient roman latrines / latrinae, Ostia Antica Nederlands: Oud-Romeins openbaar toilet Français : Latrines romaines à Ostie. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I decided to do a top ten, because obviously anyone who blogs has to eventually do a top ten. Not only does it seem mandatory to be a blogger, but it also is very trendy so I must join into the hoopla and become super cool, and trendy..( never going to happen!) I want to start by saying I could never…and I mean NEVER live up to the Very cool, talented, and obviously the king of all top ten lists, List of X. I do not claim to be able to even be in the same category as the Great and Powerful List of X. I have also read that by creating a blog that has “helpful” hints and information that people can use will surely bring about views and such. This has neither helpful hints, nor does it contain information that is at all useful or even worth reading…but here it is. So…yeah….
My top 10 reasons why cleaning toilets suck:

 
1. Obviously….the number one reason is that cleaning toilets suck…in general…

 
2. The ever dreaded, yet always happens splash back factor! It’s usually because some shmo had mexican food the night before, and that shit…(literally)…is not budging. So you’re scrubbing, and scrubbing some more with purpose,..still not budging…so you start putting some real muscle into it, and I guess because you are a sexy beast with super muscle strength, the friggin water splashes up at you and in that horrible instant of fear, everything slows down to a slow motion status, you try to turn your face and anything that has to do with face holes away from the horribly tainted, germ filled, worse than acid water heading toward your face. Usually it still splatters the face, and always ends up on the shirt, which¬†ultimately¬†is now soaking through to your bra, and going to seep into your skin and cause you to have some hideous disease that kills you instantly and now your headstone says ..killed while scraping shit off a toilet! and people read it and just shake their head.

 
3. It’s basically like sticking your hand up another person’s rear without actually having them there to experience it. YOU get to have all the fun. Yaaay you…

 
4. Being on your knees makes it feel like you are getting way more intimate with a toilet seat than anyone ever should…and don’t even try and deny that one…

 
5. For the long hair people, if your bun or ponytail happens to fall at the exact moment when you are bending down getting the scrub on, then basically you now have shit hair! No two ways about it.

 
6. Why do people always know when you are cleaning the toilet? It’s like as soon as your hands make impact with the nasty toilet, ring- ring- ring. And of course they continue to call, because they need to get a hold of you RIGHT NOW! So they call, and call, and call, and if your anything like me, just letting that shit ring can cause inner turmoil. It starts out like this….” what if it’s important?”…”what if someone needs me?” what if my family is dead in a gutter and they are trying to reach me and I am sitting here with my friggin face in the toilet and I can’t answer because then my phone will be all toilety and it’s blinged out so I can’t clorox wipe it because my gems will fall off, and…

 
7. The fact that you are putting your face where everyone else puts their ass! Yep….Their ass, Your face…

 
8. BOYS!!! I really do not need to elaborate on this one!!!

 
9. Have you ever tried to get behind the toilet. Like that part that is basically pressed up against the wall, and you have the tub on one side, and the sink on the other and you are trying to fit your whole friggin body back there to get the piss…(see #8).. from the boys that for some reason piss everywhere but IN the bowl!

 
10. And finally..this one is actually more of an observation than a point….for the love of pete…use a friggin glove! To those of you that go in with bare hands action and absolutely no coverage, I’m just going to say right here….ew! If I could wear a¬†has-mat¬†suit to clean those bitches I would!

 

Okay…my very first top ten list! What did you think? I hope that I could be of some assistance to you all. Happy Cleaning…

” I Dreamed a Dream in time gone by”~

I like to keep things funny around here. I enjoy laughing, joking, and just being silly with as much¬†inappropriateness¬†as possible! Maybe it’s how I choose to cope with “life” stuff. Everyone handles things in their own way. NO way is wrong, just different. Anyway…I wanted to get serious for a minute. The thing is , this is what is on my mind right now. I put myself out there to be real and true, so sometimes it just isn’t that funny. Every year around this time, “spring” and about 5 days before my birthday, I end up getting these strange feelings of some unresolved stuff cropping up. It’s funny because the old adage “time heals all wounds” …in some cases never seems to apply. I am not sure if time “heals” the wounds, or you just become used to the feelings of loss,¬†disappointment¬† or whatever it is, and find better ways of coping with what had happened in your life. We all have a story. We all are on a journey and we all experience different things. This post is about my dad. The very first man I ever knew…who I never knew! That statement has so much more meaning than I may even be able to explain.

 
My parents were big hippies from the 60’s. They lived in the heart of San Fransisco on Haight St.and Ashbury out of a VW bug. Free love and all that! They lived in sandals, smoked pot, and believed in rights for everyone! My dad was very against racism of any kind, and believed in basic human rights for all. Some of the greatest things I learned from that man were that everyone is equal no matter race, culture, or differences. Only as an adult can I look back now and see that he stood up for those things. As a child, I never felt like he accepted me as I was. He was also a raging, and I mean raging alcoholic. My life was anything but “normal”. I really don’t believe in that word anyway. NOrmal does not exist, it is only a state of mind. A thought if you will. I believe thoughts are really what make us who we are. They are what define us and make us different from each other. They really mean nothing though. They only mean something to the person having them. Anyway…I spent a big part of my childhood fearing my dad, and really never feeling like I connected or even knew him at all. I realized that when I became a mom. All of a sudden I had this little life that meant everything to me, that I would die for on the spot. Yet in my head I couldn’t understand why my own dad did not feel the same about me. Why did he not see me as I am, and love me as I am? Of course it took many years for me to realize that was simply not true. He did love me…in the only way he could. My relationship with my dad changed when I stopped seeing him as my dad and instead started seeing him as a human being. When I was able to walk away from some unreal expectation of what I felt I was suppose to have in a dad, only then could I really understand his love. I saw him as the little boy that at the age of 7 was left on a doorstep because his mother left with a man that did not want children. I saw him as the child that was horribly abused by his own alcoholic father, beaten, and left alone. I finally saw him. I saw his life, and what he had to overcome. I also realized that in his mind, he WAS doing it differently for his kids. It changed my perception. Just think if we could all realize that every journey is fraught with so many different battles that we do not always understand, so how can anyone judge another without the knowledge of what they have endured. My dad struggled his whole life to overcome, and eventually in the end…he just felt that he was not strong enough. 5 days before my birthday, he walked on the freeway, jumped in front of a truck, and took his own life. I remember the phone call from my sister like it was yesterday. Anyone who has lost someone to suicide knows that it is one of those things that you never really come to a place of understanding about. It leaves you with so many holes. The questions of…could I have said something, could I have changed it, what made him think that all hope was lost, and the only option was to take that step? I will never understand that moment that he felt there was no other option. I spent a lot of time wondering why things couldn’t have turned out different. I may never understand that, but I have made peace with the relationship I did have with him. I remember the moments that we did have, like when I was a kid and he got in the pool with us and threw us over his shoulder, or when he coached the teams that we played for. I remember right after I became a mom, and I went to visit him, and I confronted him about why he didn’t love me. I wanted to know why I wasn’t good enough. He looked at me and said something I have never forgotten and I have used so much in my life. He said ” I have always loved you, … things just aren’t always the way you perceive them to be.” He picked up a piece of paper, showed it to me, and asked me what I see. It was a white piece of paper. I said..”it’s a simple white piece of paper.” He said to me…” NO, it isn’t, it is a very beautiful blue picture.” He then flipped it over to show me the side he was looking at…and you know what, he was right. I was so sure what I saw was the absolute truth, but once I saw his side I realized his truth was absolute to him, and it is not always what we think it to be. That moment was one of many moments that helped me to peace and understanding. Yes…I wish I had the chance to have known him better. I wish he could have known my children. It just wasn’t the way it happened. I am at peace about it. I will always question why he took that step, but I am at peace now. I loved him, in the only way that I knew how to. Of course it never feels like it is enough. I also know that everything we experience in this life is just taking us to the next step. Helping us to grow, and become whatever it is that we are suppose to become. Maybe this moment of opening my heart, and putting it out there is the moment that will help someone struggling with this very thought. I hope so. To just know that someone else has been through it, and understands, and knows that you will make it….can be very comforting.
Boy…putting your heart out there really is scary, but it’s my reality. We all have our reality, and our journey…no one worse or better than another’s. So here I am, in another spring, looking at the flowers blooming, hearing the birds chirping (my dad LOVED birds), knowing the pending days of summer are right around the corner, and wondering what it would be like if my dad could be standing here with me in this exact moment, and I could share my heart with him. Maybe he knows….maybe he is here in this moment. All I know is that LOVE is truly the miracle of this life. Being able to love, and share it… there is nothing greater that you can do. I know my dad loved me. LOVE as much as you can, everything in your world will feel right when it comes from love.

My Husband is a Whore…just a whore

Speed 2: Cruise Control Original Motion Pictur...

My husband is a whore …Just not the kind you think. I call myself a facebook whore…and I openly accept that title. My husband on the other hand, is not on facebook, but a whore none the less. He is what is called a cruise control whore. I know you might be thinking right now….what is a cruise control whore? Well, let me tell you. A cruise control whore is a person that is so¬†dependent¬†on using the cruise control capability in their car, that they have officially¬†forgotten¬†how to actually drive on their own. They now NEED that extra support of the car mechanism helping them along! This is the husband. But the problem goes even deeper than that. EVERY single time we go anywhere…and I mean anywhere, he can’t help himself. He¬†immediately¬†goes straight for that button. It’s like it calls to him. Even if it is just 3 miles down the road, he has to hit the button. I have actually tested him before to see how long he can go without hitting the button….he hasn’t made it past 2 1/2 minutes yet. It’s like his addiction. It’s not just about the push of that button though, it’s like a whole mindset thing for him. Here we are going along the freeway, minding our own business…of course cruising along…with the cruise control, and here comes a car on the left side that looks like it might be passing, but it never actually passes. Instead deciding to drive exactly next to us…like twinsies going the same speed. So if anyone wants to pass, they are basically screwed because we now have a road block sort of thing happening all while still driving. Instead of just stepping on the brakes a little to slow down so as to let said car drive past, the husband decides to freak the frick out! It usually goes something like this..

“Are you Fucking kidding me?….Look at this mother fucker sitting here on my side…who the fuck does he even think he is?….Fucking bullshit mother fucker piece of..”

okay….you get the idea….and just for reference..NO the kids are not in the car when he is doing the freak the frick out. We make an effort to not talk that way in front of the little people, but get us alone in the car and all bets are off! The words start flying!! We have to let it out sometimes.

Then I will usually say something along the lines of…”Well, why don’t you just step on the brakes and he will peacefully move past.”

The husband.. “because then I have to stop my cruise control. I’m on cruise control dammit!”

Me, “Well….look at it this way, you can always just re-hit that button….ya know…after he is past”

…I do not understand why re-hitting the button is such a thing for him, but it totally is. I guess he assumes that they should already know that he has cruise control on, and they should drive accordingly with the speed that he has chosen….dammit!!! … So instead of slowing down a bit, he will continue on driving twinsies with some dude, cussing him out the whole way, and a butt load of pissed off drivers behind us that can’t get past. What started out as an innocent trip to town has now become some friggin jousting battle used with cars instead of horses and lance poles! And no one is backing down. It’s like if the husband actually steps on the brakes to slow a bit, then he will forever be deemed as cowardly and unworthy! All of a sudden it becomes all “gladiator” up in here…and the most noble of perfect driving speeds will prevail!! I don’t know….all I know is that the husband is a great guy in many ways, and he does a lot of wonderful things, but he is straight up a whore!! Just a whore…

 

 

LOUISE ALLAN

writer & author

Dadmissions

life surrounded by a wife and two girls

Cellulite Looks Better Tan

And Other Observations From My Soap Box.

Mental Defecation

My mind poops here

renegade mothering

tales of a wayward mama

Dances With Fat

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness are Not Size Dependent

Abby Has Issues

I have issues. So do you.

Nonsense & Shenanigans

Because who wants to make sense and behave, anyway?

Single Girl Blogging

I'm a single girl dating in Los Angeles. Sometimes. It's interesting.

The Apprehensive Vagina

Navigating a world of anxiety and sexual pain through humor and conversation.

TD421

Why aren't you at your post?

Veggiewitch

...adventures of a Crafter-Mama!

Why are you so AWESOME and I SUCK?!

I have struggled to be famous for over a decade. I have learned talent and hard-work are not key factors. This blog is dedicated to my pursuit in figuring out what it takes… to be famous.

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

Guapola

Crazy is relative. Just ask my relatives. And music!

Weird Woman Lives Past 40

My bumpy, messy, fattening, slutty, beautiful, simple life. Step into my panties...err parlour.

Crazy Good Parent

a digital community for people with mental health issues trying to be the best parents they can