For Sale.

If you are in need of a husband, look no further. You can have mine!

For a short time, you can bring home this fine piece of ass and prop him in a recliner with the remote in his hand. He will sit there, flipping through channels, farting, scratching his balls and out right ignore you or any of your demands.

But WAIT. There's more!!!!!!

When it comes to children, he is a special breed. He will actually come out of his t.v. trance long enough to say "Hi. How was your day?" to the children and answer math questions they may have. You must act quickly though. He is only coherent for a short time before his eyes glaze over and he can no longer interact with human kind.

He makes good money, enough for you to stay home and do all his laundry, cooking, cleaning, child care and become a under paid whore. Once in a great while, after oodles of begging, he may rub your back for 45 seconds before complaining that his arm is tired. It's pure bliss for those enjoyable 45 seconds though.

And you can sit in the comfort of your own home and smell the horrendous farts that he is truly the master of.

All of this PLUS!!!

He's pretty good in bed. Okay. He's the master of the bedroom. Sex or standing in front of him naked is your only ticket to get his eyes away from the flat screen.

If you ask him to do something, even though it is a small task, it will take him 7 days to fulfill your wishes. He uses the "Honey Do" list as toilet paper to wipe his ass. On the bright side, you save money on toilet paper.

If his friends call or he has a meeting which is only suitable for meetings that are well worth his time and involves having "meeting's after the meetings" (aka the bar) he is very motivated and it doesn't take him anytime to get ready to run for the door. This only applies to things that peaks his interest. If it is to go shopping, he will procrastinate for an eternity.

He pouts and whines like a toddler. So. If you are unable to have children and are pursuing adoption, he is a winner. You do not have to change shitty diapers yet. like you would with a infant.

And if the mood is right and I am bitchy enough, he comes with a package deal. Not only do you get this one husband, but you could have the fortune of getting the kid and two dogs to go along with him.

*note* He does not feed the dogs or kid. That is your job.

I will ship him to you as soon as he changes the light bulb in the bathroom that has been burned out for several weeks now. I can think positive and say that he will be on your doorstep in the next few days however, that is laying a lot of hope in him.

Act fast! This could all be yours for the low price of $.01 and if you comment within the next hour....

I will pay for shipping.

Make Checks Payable to:

One bitchy wife.

6969 UpHisAss Avenue

Butthole, FU 69696

*Note* I love my husband and he is a wonderful man and father but today, he done pissed me off. So. I turned to the blog for my therapy. Thank you for understanding that I am one messed up menopausal bitch.

Dislikes and likes.

Things I dislike.

1. When someone owes you money and instead of paying you back, they buy themselves items that are clearly on a "want" list and not a "need" list. i.e. Big screen T.V.'s, Wii's, games, vacations, etc. This is beyond rude and I can guarantee that there will never be anymore handouts. EVER.


2. Keeping up with the Jone's. I'm sorry if this offends you. But there is nothing that is more upsetting to me then getting dogged by a friend because her "new" friend lives in the posh neighborhood and we live in the "modest" side of town. It is disturbing. I don't keep up with the Jone's because a.) I don't have the need to be in debt for the rest of my life and b.) I just don't feel any better about myself just because I drive the cool cars or live in the upside of town. And let me just say that if you are wondering if this is you that did this too me.....probably not because I can guarantee the person of who I am speaking of doesn't read this blog.


3. Judgement. This goes along with #2. Don't judge me because I don't wear designer duds (even though I sorta do. I just buy it at consignment shops.) or because I don't have the "look" that you feel I need. I will be the first to admit, I sometimes judge people myself. I know. Completely hypocritical. However, I don't like myself for doing it. I have been making a conscious effort to stop doing this and matter of factly, it was a New Year Resolution.


4. Condescending assholes. Nothing makes my blood boil more then individuals who condescend others to make themselves feel better. I'm sorry. But this cannot make you feel too good about yourself either. Truly. Is being disrespectful and demeaning to another, especially someone you confess to love, making you any better of a person? It is hurtful and cruel and my stomach hurts when I see sadness in a loved ones face when harsh words are spoken to them.


5. Selfish, rotten humans. I hate selfishness. If you have something to spare....then spare it. I give to charities often. I also give to friends that are in stressful times. I won't share names but I will give an example because truly, I am deserving of a pat on the back. I'm not trying to be conceited or I don't need verification that I am a nice person because I am not always so nice. but I want people to Pay it Forward as well. A friend of mine was struggling this past Christmas and was worried about buying Christmas gifts for her family. I knew she was struggling back in August. I started saving dimes and pennies and by time Christmas rolled around, I handed her $300 to buy presents. To this day, no one knows what I did but her and I. I will not tell anyone either and told her the same. Only because I want her family to be appreciative of her hard work. And she does work hard. She just had some ripples to take care of. So. I helped as a friend. And I'm proud that her family had a nice Christmas and she got the attention she deserved.


6. Conceited fucks. Oh do I loath conceited people. How irritating is it when every single thing you say someone has done it and done it better. It is so annoying. It is equivalent to scraping nails on a chalk board. Speaking for myself, I don't give a rat's ass if you have done it better then me. Let me get out a sentence before you must interrupt the conversation to give examples of your greatness. R.U.D.E. I try to understand low self esteem for being the source to the conceitedness but I have a hard time understanding this.

Things I love.

1. My daughter and her sweet face when she is sleeping. She can be such a devil at times but when she sleeps, she resembles nothing less then a precious angel. I love to listen to her breaths, the way her lip quivers when she sleeps and the way she talks so sweetly in her sleep. She is absolutely the love of my life.


2. The way my husband gives me gentle reminders of how much he loves and adores me. The way he rubs my back when I am pushing a grocery cart through the store. Or the way he hugs me and kisses my forehead. The way he gives me air kisses from across the room. He is so perfect for me in every single way.


3. The way my family cares and worries about us. The way they all lend support when we need it and affection when we want it. My family. All of my family, are always going to be some of my favorite people forever and always.


4. Friends of all different kinds. My friends are diverse. And I fit perfectly into their lives as they do to mine. The positive reinforcement they offer when I need it. Friends are so important in my life and always will be.


5. The love my dogs give me even after I yelled at them for chewing up a shoe again. They are so forgiving and so dependable and they love me for everything I am and see no faults. I love my pooches.


6. Happiness. Happiness is something that is worked for. Not just giving to you. I work hard for my happiness and I could be bitter, trust me. Instead I choose happiness and I try hard to always see the cup half full. Sometimes my cup runneth over, however I try to ignore the overflow.


7. God. My God. Our God. I don't care if you call him God or Jehovah. He is one God and we mostly all worship Him....regardless of the name you call him. Or the religion in which you have chosen to worship Him. Even if you choose to worship Him in the comfort of your own home and not in a church. As long as you worship Him.....it doesn't matter how or where you do it. I have worshipped Him in my car. In the bathroom, in Target. Just worship Him.

This is very inspiring for me to write this down. I need reminders to do better everyday. This certainly puts things in perspective. Try it. You'll see.

And away we don't go....

This past weekend, I was anxiously awaiting the escaping out of my home. I was fit to be tied all week. Just me and my husband, riding in a car, sans the child that cannot stop saying "mom?" all the effing time.

Ahem....

I was even more excited because my husband was tired after working until 3am in the mourn. This meant I could listen to my "Journey" CD without any interruptions besides a snoring husband. Ahhhhh.....

We were going to Kansas City to help a friend move some of her belongings back home. And we were pulling a trailer with our truck. A regular sized truck. No semi. No diesel guzzling truck. Just a 4 wheel drive Chevrolet. Nonetheless....I hate driving this truck because I am vertical challenged. But it was well worth me driving it just to do nothing other then think to myself on the drive down.

I was pretty pumped in the a.m. before we headed south. I eagerly went outside to start the truck and pack our belongings.

I must digress here. For 5 weeks now my hubby has been badgering me to get a new set of keys made for all the vehicles. We only have one key for the truck. I told him "no." over and over because that is just to mundane of a chore for someone of my statue.

Ahem.

I locked the keys in our running truck.

Ahem.

I felt like a shit hole.

So. After 45minutes of the truck running and me pouting on the couch and my hubby laughing and snickering at my dumbness, a tow truck hero unlocked my truck. I promised to get another set of keys made tomorrow. And I instantly set up on star again. Because those wizards can open your doors instantly. So. That means we don't really need that other key but my bossy husband says "Yes.We.Do."

Blah, Blah, Blah.

To make a very long story short....I realized half way to our destination, it was Friday the 13th. Shit.Fuck.Shit. I am overly superstitious. I will drive blocks away from a black cat. Don't judge me!!!!

We hit Omaha, Nebraska and it was a complete white out. Snow.Snow.Snow. Ice.Ice.Ice. And goofy mother effers driving like they are on speed. Not fun. At this point my husband woke up. I was white knuckling the steering wheel and my eyes were set on the road ahead.

Did you know that when you are pulling something behind a truck that it can fish tail or lose control which incidentally, makes a freak like me lose all control of her intestinal track and bladder and closes her eyes, throw her hands in the air and yell hysterically. Not good people. Not good.

I got control again. And then when you try to break, did you know that the trailer you are pulling will actually push you forward, making it much harder to stop. And did you know on ice, this makes a freak like me scream and cry and scream some more. And then the hubby makes "suggestions" and that makes you yell:

"Just Shut.Up. Just shut the hell up. I will cut out your freaking juggler if you don't shut the hell up!"

Not good people. Not good.

And then when you finally make it to your destination, by the grace of God, all hell breaks loose and you realize that some people are down right losers and thief's and goober-booby heads. And then you see such diversity in different neighborhoods of larger cities and you cannot believe your eyes. Just unreal. And you realize that some people are scum. And that the trip down to grab a friends stuff is a waste because the "friend" sold and pawned all of her stuff for money. Which I'm pretty certain was for some crack to stuff up her nose. While her small, innocent children play in the streets. I'm not gonna even explain how much of a freaking crack whore this gal is and how she doesn't deserve kids.

Ahem.

However, the next day I hung with my husband on Valentines Day....went shopping at some very cool places....and had hotel sex. Yes. Hotel Sex. Jealous?

Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow.

The next Friday the 13th, you will find me in a closet. K?

Picture it.

1. Picture it. Pregnant. Kidney infections.
I was working and had to go to a bachelorette party after my shift. I was 6 months prego and was in a moo-moo dress. I wasn't looking forward to going out however I promised I would and I was already late. Which means I didn't have time to pee before I left. A few minutes later, I was doing 55mph down the interstate and realized that my bladder was going to explode. I tried holding it for a few more miles to the next gas station, but I couldn't do it. I failed. I peed my pants. Luckily, I am a weirdo and whenever I have a dress on, I have to hike it all the way up when I drive. So I only peed in my granny undies and seat. I hate being late. So. I carefully slipped the undies tent off and threw them out the window (shame on me for littering but you never know, a hitch-hiker could have picked them up and used them for a hanky....or their own undies. It could happen!). Fast forward a few hours. The girls were already drunk off of their asses by time I made it there. Did I mention that my fat assed pregnant self was the D.D.? Anyway, at a bar, my one friend decided to lift my skirt. Imagine her surprise and laughs when I was butt ass naked.

The point?.........My friends are bitches.

2. Picture it. Me (single and childless). My friends. A Ford Tempo (bwahahahahaha. A Ford Tempo......LOL) and Pumpkins.

I used to love stealing pumpkins. So. One crazy night me and my friends left the bar (we were NOT drinking.) to take pumpkins away from innocent little children. Yes. I was terrible. Anyway, my friends car worked the best because it had a button that popped the trunk open. You Know. Easy Access. My one friend had some rank gas and it was seeping out of his bunghole. He came running back to the car with the biggest pumpkin I have ever seen and it was so heavy that he was pushing farts out as he huffed and puffed. We popped the trunk, he threw it in the back (which only made the back of the car look like a low rider.) and tried to open the car door. Did I mention that he almost got caught from the parents? Anyway, we could hear him tooting about a block away so we decided he needed to air out. We locked the doors and made him run next to the car for awhile. He hurt something or other in the process. I think he pulled a groin muscle. Hahaha.

The Moral of the Story?........Don't have gas while stealing pumpkins.

3. Picture it. A bar. Me. My cheating boyfriend. Alcohol.

I was dating a man for about a year at this point. Or at least I thought we were dating. Apparently he thought it was okay to do the "horizontal mambo" with other women as well. WRONG! We were out and about one night and I was feeling mighty fine thanks to tequila. His whore other "screw" informed me that she was "seeing" him as well. I approached him, which ironically he was at a table full of girls he was trying to mack on. I asked him if this information was true. He tried to lie. I persisted until he fessed up. At this point, I was being rather loud and we had an audience. After he told me the truth, I popped him in the face. I called him so choice words and walked away with people applauding me. He was humiliated when his posse of girls told him to get the hell away from them and he left the vicinity. Which is a good thing considering I was shooting some more tequila for some more liquid courage. I found out that the chick whore that gave me this information continued to have a "relationship" (read between the lines and take special note of the quotation marks.) for a while after this. He finally broke it off to her and begged for my forgiveness. I refused any sort of "relationship" with him other then friendship. We are still friends to this day. And I remind him occasionally of my punch to his kisser.

Moral of this story?.......Don't fuck with a drunk Firecracker.

4. My daughter was getting bullied when she was in 1st grade. This bully didn't want her to have any other friends and wanted Sheylee all to herself. So. She would tell Sheylee that she was going to hurt her if she talked to any other kid. My daughter was strong, and didn't listen to her. One day, out on the playground, she tried choking my daughter. My girl is tiny. This bully is not the average sized 1st grader. Sheylee didn't have a fighting chance. After Sheylee's other friends got the bully off of her, Sheylee went to go tell the playground teacher. She told Sheylee to stop tattling. My baby girl came home with finger marks on her throat and tears in her eyes. I went to the school, demanded to talk to this playground teacher and informed her that if she ever makes such poor judgements again with my child, it would be her neck she would have to protect. The Principal didn't bother to butt in as she knew I was pissed off. The bully had to see counseling for a year and the teacher won't even look my direction to this day.

The Point?......Mama has a temper when you mess with my Stinky Girl.

Boo-RAh!

Highs and Lows.

I have been reflecting a lot. Don't worry. Not in a sad way. Just a soap box sorta way. Keep reading if you are as confused as me and I will do my best to explain.

A friend of mine has a sick child. She works full time, is a mom full time and her mind is racing full time. The woman doesn't catch a break. Her down time is consumed with worries of her child(ren) and money.

She is a workaholic. She gives her all to her company. They don't return the favor.

She has to take time off of work quite a bit to get her son to the doctor or miss work when her son is sick or in the hospital. Her job threatens her often. She has been on written warnings about her attendance.

I understand, to a point, her employers position. After all, my husband ran his fathers company for years. It is crucial to have dependable workers. I totally get that. However, my husband was very understanding to circumstances and situations. Never, Never, Ever did he reprimand a employee for taking time off for family. He would have been a total hypocrite had he. Family, in his beautiful eyes, is always first. No Exceptions.

Even though I understand the importance of dependability, I cannot accept that companies don't understand life. Life happens and sometimes it knocks us flat on our asses.

My friend is a testament to this. Trust me when I say that she would rather be working then taking her sick child to the doctor. Or holding his hand in the hospital. Or rubbing his hair when he is throwing up. She didn't chose this life. She deals with it.

How sad is it that she has to feel guilty and ashamed to stay home from work to care for her child(ren)? She is in a constant state of guilt. If she goes to work, she feels guilty for not being there for her son. If she stays home, she feels guilt about not being at work and scared of the consequences.

She cannot leave this company. Most companies are the same. She is stuck. She is beating her head up against a brick wall.

I have been there. Working full time, at a job that barely pays the bills. It is very frustrating.

I was the one who stayed home with our daughter if she was sick. It doesn't make since for me to go to work, making little money, or my husband going to work, making triple of my wages. It isn't rocket science.

I was reprimanded as well. Written warnings. Embarrassment of the manager pulling you aside in front of your co-workers to scold you for being a parent. And as much as you want to show your teeth to them, you cannot. It doesn't do a damn bit of good.

I am lucky enough to be a stay at home mom/wife now. I am a minority. Most families need 2 incomes to survive. And with today's economy, even the stay at home moms are reconsidering their position. Money is tight. Money is essential. Lose. Lose. Situation.

I am concerned for my friend. She is a single mom. Did I mention that? She is enduring more pain and stress then the average person. She is barely treading water at this time. She has family and friends helping her. She isn't alone. Yet she feels complete loneliness.

I stress to her: "Give us this DAY, our DAILY bread."

This to me means that you take one DAy at a time. Each night, you go to sleep. The next day, your slate is clean. New Day. New Beginnings. Sure. We are all putting money away for retirement and college. It is okay to plan for the future. But my motto is: "Worry about yesterday or tomorrow when you are there. Not Today." It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. And I hope like hell she learns from it too.

Prayer. Prayer is a powerful tool. He listens. He doesn't leave you stranded. He will fight for you. He always does. And even though we don't see His will or plans and sometimes it is the complete polar opposite of what you want, He will do what needs to be done. He knows your future. He knows you better then you know you. Faith. Prayer. Patience. Love.

Please bow your heads and pray for the families struggling like my dear sweet friend. Get on bended knee and thank the Good Lord for your blessings. Pray for those who are lost and cannot find their way home. Pray for those who are walking in the dark without a candle. They need you. They need your prayers. And above all. Feel compassion and understanding for people who are in less then desirable lives. Don't judge. Just feel.

*stepping down from the soap box now*

Some overdue thank yous.

To the Superbowl commercials makers.

Thank you so much for providing entertainment for the 15children that were running rampant through my house on Superbowl Sunday. For a few brief moments, you stopped the kids in their mischievous tracks plus you did the impossible and actually made them quiet while they viewed your commercials.

Their favorite was from Bridgestone Tires that featured no other then Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. Hilarious.


And better yet, the drunk adults were also momentarily controlled as they were engrossed in the commercials.

I had over 20 adults and 15 kids in my humble home. It was busting at the seams however, it was also bursting with laughter, giggles, screams, yells and fun.

But I very much enjoyed my minutes of sanity brought to me by your commercials. They were not the best ever but nonetheless, they were worthy of the 2 million dollars each company paid. Tell me again why we are in a depression recession and America's economy is in jeopardy? Bygones.

And because I am throwing out well deserved thank yous. I would also like to thank my doctor for prescribing my "happy pills." They saved a lot of hurt feelings and children sitting in time outs.

And thank you to the alcohol manufactures. You are beautiful.

Regards,

A happy camper.

P.S.

What are the chances of moving football to the warmer seasons so we can have a Superbowl Party that would allow the children to go outside in non-frigid weather? Just a simple suggestion.

So Long Life....Heeellllloooo Guitar Hero.

Oh save it. I know Guitar Hero has been around too long for people to care anymore. But me, myself and I are really not that hip and rad. I don't follow fads, because with Katie Holmes rolling her cuffs on her jeans again, I would quite frankly rather spit some Tabasco sauce in my eye. And not because I would have to take the time to "roll" my jeans although that is a big part of it but more so because I think it is uglier then Kid Rock.

The reason I started my "Guitar Hero" infatuation is pure and simple. My husband thinks he is freaking Axl Rose on it. And anything he can do I can do better.

The End.

Or not.

I cannot let that human with a penis do better then me. And right now. He is way better then me. He is at a "medium" stage and I am still failing in the "easy" stage. And I look like a huge seizure when I play. It is disgusting. He looks like a gay member of Gun's and Roses but that is going away from my point.

I have used every excuse as to why I suck hairy balls. Like "My fingers are too short." or "I'm sweating too much." or "My butt crack itched." however, the reality, I am never gonna be a guitar "hero!" *sigh*

My reason for telling you this? Besides the fact that currently I am pouting because he kicked my fat hiney once again, is I haven't been blogging or commenting because of HIM and Guitar Hero. One way or another, I will master this damn game by summer or 2020 . I will miss you while I'm away being a gigantic loser, playing my daughters Christmas present all.damn.day. And this further proves that I need to involve myself in activities. Before my ass needs it's own zip code from lack of exercise. Did I fail to mention that I am such a lazy beast that I don't even stand while playing? Instead, I recline in my couch while eating mass quantities of peanuts. And no...I am not scared of getting salmonella. I laugh in the face of infectious diseases. Hahahahacoughspewpukevomithahaha.

The sad part of this story? I'm almost certain that I am such a blog failure that nobody notices my absence. And in case you didn't know this, blog failure is as disappointing as a lonely old mans hand getting too tired to jack off. That's a let down.