aHERM
Is that how you would spell it, if you were really, really feeling obnoxious and you needed all people within a 12,500 miles radius to hear you clearing your throat?
aHERM, then.
aHERM, then.
Dear Mr Z:
Please note that the last two times (and the only two times) I have attempted to watch television this month, you have had some sort of personal crisis or near nervous breakdown (over the teensy-weensiest of matters), and my viewing pleasure was immediately disrupted.
Please note also, that you're currently sitting in front of the television which is broadcasting some sort of event involving men wearing helmets and very tight pants, and I am not even close to having any sort of personal crisis or near nervous breakdown.
What does that say about you?
What does that say about me?
Pffft; not even close, buddy. Not even close!
Sincere "think-about-its" from your very capable and grumpy wife,
Zilla
5 Comments:
You need a vacation!! Want to come South?
With my last husband, a "personal crisis" would involve not being able to find his eyeglasses or something. Which I had to solve immediately.
Actually (shh) because we have quite a small home, mine has the audacity to settle in to watch football without forewarning me or the kids, and then if I get to the computer, moans that my keyboard tapping is interrupting his viewing.
He knows not to push it too far these days - one time I sat beside him for an entire boring game, wearing a bindi dot on my forehead. No he never noticed for an hour and a half. I timed it.
My husband sits in his recliner and watches football, Flip that House, Trick my Truck, Overhauled, racing, Jerry Springer (Ahhhh)...and wants to complain that I'm on the computer too much. Cheryl, he says my keyboard tapping interupts his viewing as well. Sometimes I have fantasies about dumping his recliner and watching him roll out it onto the floor! Moohahah.
Mine too. The toad.
He watches anything and everything that involves racing and or cars, and or trucks. GAG!
Then he complains because I'm on the computer. He's like, "Why don't you come over here and sit by me?"
And I say, "What, and watch you watch tv?"
Give me a damned break.
Men, can't live with 'em, can't choke the shit out of 'em.
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