Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Note to the Husband
Look, you are six foot, three. I am five foot, four. Therefore, when you stack the shit in the pantry yay high on the top damn shelf and all I want to do is get down a roll of paper towels, it results in a topple effect and almost makes me get conked on the head by Clorox Clean Up wipes, curse loudly and send the dog scampering away. If you even want a shot of meeting up with the new and improved woo woo (or just the same woo woo that saw the doctor today) then quit doing that. Those giant containers of food and crap we get from Sam's hurt when they hit my toes. OUCH.Elizabeth at 8:24 PM
2 Comments
- at 8:23 AM Elizabeth said...
Honestly I have no clue. If he does, great, if not, then his loss of seeing some truly fab writing. LOLOLOLOL.
I can see how the wife was like "WHAT THE FUCK?" if she just reads the comments. Most of the blogs I read are chicks but there are a few funny guys out there. If you have not read Waiter Rant, I highly recommend. The stories almost make me pee myself.- at 8:47 AM Nessa said...
I'm not supposed to laugh, right? Okay, I won't...I'm sorry about your toes!