Guest Post from the Wife: The seven year itch, or maybe just signs we’ve been together along time.

So typical of most evenings, I (the wife) have been asleep since 10:30pm and Load, who works late, comes to bed around 2:30am. Load nudges me to move me off his side of the bed, then proceeds to take the pillow out from underneath my head, as it was his to begin with. I feel the flutter of blankets as Load evens the sheet to blanket ratio in a process that involves his feet and fanning the covers incessantly. Load then proceeds to ask me questions or talk about his day as I give one word replies in my half asleep state. It was one of those conversations last night that made me realize we have been together a freakin long time.

Load, “Baby, we’ve been married almost a year.”

The Wife, “a-huh”

Load, “Isn’t our dating anniversary around this time of year.”

The Wife, “a-huh, August 28th”

Load, “You remember the date?”

The Wife, “a-huh, seven years”

Load, “Why didn’t you tell me, that was last weekend?”

The Wife, “forgot.”

Load, “You would remember the date. Should we do something.”

The Wife, “No”

Load, “Hmm okay, Wow seven years.”

The Nerds have Evolved

So I guess some nerd has found a way to get spam into comment sections of blogs. So I set up the word verification feature. Sorry if it becomes annoying but reading through 20 comments ranging from home insurance to homeopathic herpies remedies gets old fast.

Dog Cocktail

Here is another picture of the rest of the litter courtesy of the wife. Ours is the black spot in the upper right.

Dog update: what the hell is she?

I trained my dog to shake in 7 minutes the other night. She even remembered it for the wife in the morning so I didn’t look like a liar.

This picture is her and some of her litter at 8 weeks. She is currently 16 weeks old???

It has been interesting having a dog. One thing is we do not know what kind of dog she is. Her entire litter was left at a shelter. We were able to see a few of her siblings when we picked her out and she was the only all black one. There was two that were white and black with little muddled spots that are not in the picture. We have also started to see lots of dogs that look like a version of her: black, white spotty feet, and white blaze on her chest. Everyone of their owners has given a different mix, the most common ingredient given is lab. The one that got me worried was the dog who was a lab great dane mix. I really hope she doesn’t get over 80 lbs so I don't have to add onto my house to have room for a giant dog.

It is also funny to meet people with mutts at the dog park. Some give wild descriptions of what kind of mix their dog is and if probed they are basing it solely on how the dog looks, which is a not a very reliable system. Some are honest, like us, and say “we really don’t know but if were to guess..”. There is one guy that said his dog was a Catahoula Leopard Dog. mix. Which is entirely possible but he went for the rare breed mix to sound cooler in my opinion. If I were to guess on his dog I would say boxer, pit , and maybe some shepherd.

Some people are so full of shit.

Recycled email.

So I found this email that I sent to Turd a while back. It was pre-blog so meh.

Copy of the original add:

http://portland.craigslist.org/com/81506688.html
Lesbians With Recipes
Reply to: lesbianpotluck@yahoo.comDate: 2005-06-28, 6:48PM PDTAm writing a book on lesbian potlucks, the history, culture, and favorite foods. Am seeking recipes to include, with acknowlegement. are you lesbian? do you go to potlucks? send your best recipe to: lesbianpotluck@yahoo.com


Seriously, do cook books have to be subculturely specific? Do hermaphroditic cowboys have their own cuisine?

I am thinking of submitting the following recipes to this adds email: Crunchy Fish Tacos (obvious), Open faced beef sandwich served rare, and Gretta’s Cheesy Fur Burger.



{I have actuall been to many a party where I was one of 2 dudes and the rest were chicks. Well some had chick parts but were dudes at heart. I actually thought at one point that I was going to have to defend myself from one of the drunk angry GRRRLs. I personally think that love is love as long as it is over 18 and walks on two legs. Besides some of my best friends are....}

What not to drink.

As a worldly gentlemen I have partaken in the mixing of spirits in my time. Last night I think I discovered one of the worst concoctions known to man. I mixed Monopolowa vodka with Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper . It tasted like NyQuil with out the refreshing taste of Pseudoephedrine Hydrochloride. But being the trooper that I am I managed to get ½ of it down. Recommended uses: if you think you have a problem with drinking: switch to this red beast exclusively. If you find yourself able to get drunk on them or getttin "lost in it" you may want to start a 12 step.

This week: Load shares what he has learned from exploited human trash.

I was watching Maury Povich today before work and the title of the show made me laugh so hard that the dog flinched. “I’ve tested 13 men and none of them are the father. I’ve run out of options”. I wasn’t able to watch that particular segment and felt down all day about it. I kept thinking: what sort of options are they going to try to suggest on this show? Random DNA samples from all the 20-29 year olds in the city she lives in? Sewing her shut? Perhaps a career in adult film? I’ll never know.

Also I might add one of the more important things I have learned from that show is that if your significant other takes you on there for a lie detector test because they think you’re cheating, do not make out with the hot chick who you conveniently find yourself alone with back stage. I should also add that if any hot chick hits on you while you are in town for the shows taping: it’s a trap.

/loves the wife!

Semi post

While sitting behind a big rig at a stop light this morning I saw something interesting; on both of the mud flaps in chrome letters it said “Stay Loaded”. Sounds like the motto of many over the road drivers. Nothing like battery acid and cold pills to get ya to Cleveland in record time.

Idaho Wedding trip update

Since Turd Ferguson already listed the highlights I thought I would share one experience that he was not there for because he forgot his black socks.

So the wife, the goose and I were hanging out at the pool in luxurious Clarkston Washington and having a relaxing time. We discovered that the hotel bar was closed from 2-4pm. After 5 minutes some lady was getting up to leave and said “do you guys want a beer?”. In unison: “SURE!” I have never heard a more automatic/desperate response from three people before. I informed her that the bar was closed as I thought she was going to send the waiter down. She then told us she was giving us some from her personal stash. I dubbed her the coolest stranger ever. I think she liked that. What was even cooler is that she didn’t have any ulterior motives for sharing with strangers. No Amway, scientology, or annoying desperate conversation. Just a genuinely friendly person sharing the joy that is beer.
Which brings us to the creepy old guy. So, the girls and I are hanging out on the lounge chairs at the pool still sipping on ice cold Coors light courtesy of the coolest stranger. This guy has been sitting in the opposite corner from the pool gate, no swimming or sunning attire, no reading material, just sitting there. He is there for a while and goes to leave. He gets to the gate and turns back to walk over to the edge of the pool. I noticed and was wondering why he was checking the pool temp after he had already made the decision to leave. But then his true intentions were revealed: from his crouched position he turned his head and did the super obvious crotch check out of the girls. I sat up and he looked away and hustled out of the pool area. (hero!) I informed the girls and started talking about what a huge perve he was. The girls said I should quiet down because he could hear me and he might be going to the same wedding as we were. That just made me say it louder because if he got mad I would just tell his wife, sister, friends what he had done. Plus I found it funny as hell.

“Hey, aren’t you they guy from the pool who was trying to get an upskirt shot of my wife and future sister-in-law? Yes, that is you. Nice move, pretending to check the water. Do you want to compare notes?”

Now I’m not saying I’m a saint. I check out chicks all the time, its hardwired male behavior. The key is not getting caught doing it.

God damned dog

Here is a picture of our new(ish) puppy at about 11 weeks. She's a handful but progressing nicely. Not too many accidents recently but she is still not to be trusted. I am actually getting a semi full nights sleep now that she doesn’t have to pee every 2 hours on the hour. And naturally she will do everything the dog trainer at puppy class tells her sans tap-dancing but ignores me like we have been married for 60 years.

Self Inflicted Misery: A how to guide.

I thought I would share one of the more uncomfortable feelings I have had in recent weeks. Do you know that sick feeling that one gets deep in your stomach when you wake up after you drink beer all night and end up eating week old Kung Pow? That 2 minute warning that your body gives you before the diarrhea express revs up?
Well, I was coming home from work and I had eaten off what is affectionately known as the “Gut Truck” at lunch time. It is one of those mobile food trucks that is run by a Mexican family, toddler and all. The food is good but every once in a while it can do major damage, thus was the case the other night. I was .5 miles from home when the feeling hits. I know I will make it but only if I hurry because it’s not a real “run for the border” express feelings. You know the kind where you are pinching your cheeks together until they cramp and your mind is racing as you try to find a safe spot like behind the insurance office to let loose all the while sweat is pouring from your furrowed brow.
This was not the case, things were going good. The problem was that in my rush to get out of the car I hit my junk with the metal part of the seatbelt. Now I not only have the diarrhea sick feeling, I am doubling over from the knock in the balls. Now for the phallicly challenged: nut pain is unlike another pain. It is not quite sharp and at the same time not quite dull aching either. It’s sort of a sour feeling that makes you want to curl up in a ball, whimper and sometimes puke. Surprisingly the two feelings were completely separate from each other; each provided me with their own unique brand of utter misery. The phrase “works on so many levels” seems quite appropriate to illustrate this point. I eventually made it to the proper facilities with no further incident. But I had gained important knowledge that I can now share with all of you.

Next time: Don't slam drawers while standing in the kitchen naked, your balls will thank you.

Wow.

I want this dog, I would laugh for hours. Click here to watch the video of the singing dog.

Brains...Brrrraaaains....Its what's for dinner.

This was some popup I got today. That lady kind of freaks me out, in that can’t-look-away-from-the-car-wreck type of thing. She looks like some sort of fucking zombie or perhaps a Fembot? Sorry, that was presumptuous of me, I apologize because she may actually be undead or heartbeat challenged. That's a good example of how the undead are treated as second class citizens in this country and have such a hard time finding jobs with a livable income. That being said I think we should step up our immigration enforcement and get rid of any undocumented zombies that are here illegally. Even though they do most of the jobs that us Fat Lazy Americans won’t subject ourselves to. They also are horrible drivers, they make property values plummet and they smell bad.

does anyone read this drivel?

there is a comment section folks. stop on by and write some curse words or something.

Candy lady not amused at Load’s attempt at world domination.

If you have ever worked in a cubicle farm you have undoubtedly had a candy lady somewhere in the office. Not to be sexist but I have never seen a man do this. Anyways, she always has a bowl of candy sitting out seemingly for all to partake. The one at my work has an extensive collection of M & M themed dispensers, jars, etc. Now one would think that this person has some sort of agenda. Maybe she is a lonely divorcee who craves attention and it is the only way anyone will approach her thus granting her the only human interaction she will receive all day. Or that they are a genuinely kind person and just love to share their joy of food with everyone. Not our lady, no. She is nice but one can tell there is something evil lying just beneath the surface.
One day she stopped filling the bowl up. (I know fat boy wants his candy), the dredges would saunter on by to see if there were by chance some Dots or Hershey’s kisses to stuff in their faces. Two days later she puts a jar up that said “Candy Donations”. I found it interesting that she first offers candy with no strings attached and suddenly she is acting like everyone is taking advantage of her. Or like a crack dealer she gets you hooked on that 3pm sugar high and then holds the addiction over your head. What a greedy bitch. So, I decided to put candy in the candy donations jar knowing full well she wanted some scratch. The next day it read “Candy $ Donations”. I chuckled at the thought of her reaction upon seeing my dastardly deed. The following Monday I added some of those gold foil covered chocolate coins to the jar. I filled that sucker to the brim. She took down all the jars for about a year. Now she fills the candy bowl once and a while but hides it when she goes home.

I hope she gets hypoglycemic.

/I'm such a bad ass.