Veasey and Thystle manage to impart wisdom on a daily basis. Me? I got no wisdom, cause I got no life.
I work 80+ hours a week, live with Mommy, have an delinquent son and a clueless boy friend with a big dick. I work impossible hours because I'm convinced that one day, I will be rewarded for my diligence and actually be able to afford an apartment or at least one more pair of fat jeans. I drag my son through life every day because I know that one morning he'll wake up and say "Oh! I get it! If I don't figure this out, I'll be talking to visitors through a plate glass window." And as for Ireland? I admit that the man-toy was a most effective distraction for several months (and that's not why I dropped the L-Bomb.) But after days, weeks, months and now years of "who did your hair?" followed by comments about how much fatter my ass is now than when we first met - his dick is looking more like a long rope I'd like to wrap around his fricken neck.
Sure. My ass is fatter. I'm down to one pair of jeans and am about 5 pounds away from a daily wardrobe of sweat pants. And, in spite of the fact that he believes that short hair on any woman is a sign of latent Lesbianism, I cut it all off. Jesus H. I think I'm already starting to like girls better than boys. I'll never again iron another one of his shirts only to have him tell me I missed a spot. And if you think I will EVER clean his bathroom again so that he can tell me I forgot to wipe down the top of the light fixture - screw that.
It's Monday. I think I'll spend the entire week sitting on my fat ass in front of the computer experiencing the endless joys of web site optimization. I'll wait to hear from the police department about my son's court arraignment (another post.) Drink a delicious case of Slim Fast for breakfast. And another for lunch. Start packing for another move.
As for dick for brains - he's away on business. Maybe the gods will smile on him in Detroit. Maybe after he's done playing with his robots, he'll find an attractive, intelligent 53 year old woman with great tits, a fine ass, some Windex and a sponge. Maybe She'll clean and iron for him. And all without back talk.
Crap. Do I sound angry?