Wasted Intros and Pleasantries

Someone once told me I was funny.

After reading this, I'm sure that bitch will regret she ever said a word about it.

So I'm here in Nowhereville, USA, surrounded by farms and blips on a map. I'm the only woman in a house of three males. 

It's not great. Typically, I'd see that statement and think, "You lucky heffer, you're getting some every night!" 

No.

My husband, me, and our five and four year olds. So there, perv. No.

As it is, my dear husband, lets call him DH, was anti-wife-working for the first couple of years our boys were little. They sneeze and daycare called, so it made sense. I wanted to finish college anyway. 

Long story short, I now work part-time from home and my husband continually reminds me of the fact that he works full-time and is the breadwinner. And in case he forgets to remind me, he goes to bed after Wheel of Fortune and I'm up dealing with baths and bedtimes. 

I get it. You're tired. Whoppidty do.

But he's not too exhausted to be horny. Another topic, right ladies?

So that's me. This blog is about the horrible things I think that I can't say out loud. The things you don't want people to judge you for.

And you KNOW we judge, so let me preempt your eye-rolls and looks of disgust with a public service announcement: 

I. Do. Not. Give. A. Fuck.

So there we have it. Good day, thanks for joining the ride, and whatever and whatnot.