I've spent all day with my mother so I'm not thinking about her or every ornament and picture frame she had me cleaning. Watching me work made her so tired she couldn't have a shower but she could eat tea as long as I cooked it. I was good, I didn't burn it.
I'm not thinking about the ewlection but I am thinking about nominating Ampersand Duck for an OA for that typo which sums up the current ratfest.
I'm not thinking about the Melbourne Cup because I don't want to jinx my horses and I'm not thinking of telling you what they are.
I'm not thinking about the roving huntsman. He was shoved out into the storm last night. I think the silverfish have disposed of the cockroach.
WHAT AM I THINKING ABOUT - SIX GLORIOUS YEARS OF DIVORCE.
I hope the bastard's miserable.
I don't need to hope anything else, he's already bald, fat, wears glasses and married a moron.
(not me, the Blonde)
10 comments:
Huzzar! six years of freedom! I live my glass to you. And thanks, I liked the typo too.
You are a winner. No one will take your humanity, your humour.
That's you.
How to avoid divorce: Don't get married in the first place. It's an out-dated, socialogically imposed, meaningless ritual, recited by rote and created by right-wing oppressors to keep their subordinates under control. It costs a fortune, generally involves supporting the financial excesses of some pious vicar with a penchant for choirboys, and two times out of three results in a substantial amount of money leaving your pocket to swell the coffers of unethical barristers.
Remember the shackles of marriage motto: Clunk Click every Twit!
Think before you hitch.
Thus endeth the lesson for today, brought to you by the Synod of not following Society's Rules. Thank you for leaving your spouse. Please try to avoid getting into this situation in future.
Six years of freedom, and you are likely to live longer. Well done.
Congratulations on living better.
As for the roving huntsman: it would be ALL I could think about.
Relative freedom, he left me with four cats, his mother and my mother to look after. I think there was a 12 month window where things were looking good for real freedom but I didn't run for the hills fast enough.
I nearly didn't marry him, Hughes of Fleetwood but my father said he'd already paid for the beer. Nothing like walking into the church to find the groomsmen holding up the best man who was holding up the groom. The alcoholic fumes were so bad I was glad the candles at the altar were electric.
No winners today Rh, only if they paid a trifecta on last, 2nd last and 3rd last.
Um, can someone please enlighten this thoroughly peeved grumpy old hermit as to what this scintillating 'typo' was? The comments field is all scrunched, clicking on Ampersand duck in these comments brings up 'profile not found', totally forgot there was a horse-race of some sort today since they didn't hold it on my birthday this year, - the $600 quote to fix the leak in the 'power' steering has ballooned into the entire front suspension of my motor vehicle still strewn all over the mechanic's floor - with, as yet unknown costs - and ... ah, stuffit ..
errrm, could do with a laugh or two, just at the moment.
Ampersand Duck referred to this election as the ewlection. Do you know how much it would cost to take the innards out of a horse then put them back? Stick with the car Davo.
Pleased for you! Hope he gets his just desserts...
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