- 9:19:00 PM by Dodd *
- I have tears in my eyes and soda splattered all over my monitor after reading Mark's last. Poor Mil could have avoided a lot of trouble if he'd followed a few simple rules.
- 7:29:00 PM by mark *
- OK, here we go, humor time.Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About may just be the funniest thing you will read this weekend. It is clear now that some Germans and Brits just shouldn't be allowed on the same crustal plate together. Some choice quotes:
She really over-reacts whenever she catches me wearing her underwear.
Think about this if anyone tells you English and German cultures are fundamentally the same... Last Saturday, during an evening visiting friends, we were arguing (Spook!) and she said - I need quotes here - she said "Well, you're weird because you didn't see your mother naked often enough." Hello? Hello?
Shortly after every single time Margret touches my computer, for any reason whatsoever, I have to spend twenty minutes trying to fix crashes, locked systems, data loses, jammed drives, bizarre re-configurations and things stuck in the keyboard. There then follows a free and frank exchange of views with, in my corner, "It's your fault" and, in hers, "It's a curious statistical anomaly".
Whether her cutting our son's hair comes under 'money-saving skill' or 'therapy in the making'.
Look, if you don't understand the rules of Robot Wars by now then I'm just not going to continue the conversation, OK?
The morning of Thursday 20th of April 2000. I squint into semi-wakefulness, roll over to face Margret and yawn "Last night I dreamt you had head lice." She's drowsily replies "Well, you're going to be really mad when I tell you what I dreamt." Do we hit the ground running or what?
If I say "I think I've got a cold coming." Margret will reply "I've got one coming too. And it's a really bad one." I'll say "I have a headache." She replies "I've had one for days." Me; "Ouch, I've just banged my knee." Her; "I banged mine yesterday - chipped the bone I think." If we were both flung from a disintegrating aircraft, I'd scream "I'm going to die!" and Margret would scream back "I'll hit the ground first!"
But it's not just the vasectomy thing per se that gets me primed for the approaching row. First is the fact she tries to sell it by saying "Well, [one of her idiot friend]'s [stupid husband] had it." - like that's going to carry any weight. I have a fair number of female friends who're up for two-women-one-man, three-in-a-bed romps - but I'm not going to make much headway with that argument, am I? In fact, I may never, ever head into a hospital for a vasectomy under my own power, but simply mentioning the three-in-a-bed thing to Margret would be a fast lane to the front of some triage queue.
Just for reference; if Margret returns from having her hair cut and says "What do you think?" and you reply "I'd love you whatever your hair was like.", well, that's very much The Wrong Answer, OK?
'No, it's not that.' I bluff, 'I just want to add some extra ham. They never use enough ham.' Margret taking on a frozen pizza is a chilling enough prospect under any circumstances, but when you remember she's flying blind here - no cardboard box bearing cooking instructions to light the way - well, I'm sure you can imagine my terror. I take the pizza from the oven. I add extra ham. I return the pizza to the oven.
On a whim, I amend Margret's arrangement by removing the polystyrene base from under the pizza before continuing to cook it.What a fabulous read. Really. Cathartic, even...
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