Tuesday, December 1, 2009

I was just writing a blog, it wasn't going anywhere so I was getting slightly agitated. When my charming boyfriend slumped on the couch, picked up the remote and told me I had bloggers block. Naturally I told him to get fucked. Then with a smugness that only he can project he warned me against biting the hand that feeds me.
Stubbing my toe doesn't piss me off as much as my boyfriend does. Once when I was little I cut up a piece of Vegemite toast into tiny little square pieces, so exited to eat them I ran to the lounge room- tripped- and every single square landed Vegemite down. That didn't piss me off as much as my boyfriend does.
Here is an example of a Friday night in our house. Billy finishes work, tells me his going out. I ask if I can come, he says "sure" but when I actually look like I might do it he starts getting annoyed. So I tell him its fine Ill just drop him off. I ask him to empty the babies bath water while I put her in the car. I ask him, "What time will you be home? doesn't bother me I just want to know if I should cook dinner" he replies "7 at the latest babe, I'm exhausted from work. Love you"
"Love you too"
OK that's all well and good so I cook dinner. 10pm comes and my sweetheart stumbles through the door with his friend Clive. He declares to me "Clive's dumping his girlfriend, selling his house and moving back to England and Iv decided to do the same"
"OK Billy" (you can tell I'm used to this) So I leave them to it and go to bed, I sleep in the spare bed to avoid being woken up. Of course I cant sleep with the music and football and TV- finally he goes to bed after 12. I'm now starting to worry as I know the baby will wake me up at 5am and I wont get enough sleep. Then just as I manage to drift off I hear my dog Elvis barking and the neighbours telling him to shut the fuck up. So furious I drag myself out of bed, between Elvis barking and Billy's snoring I'm ready to throw a punch. I call Elvy and let him in. He does what he always does and runs straight to the bathroom for a sniff, its dark in there, he jumps into the bath and then realises its full. Poor little dog stands there shaking and in shock. The smell is putrid as I haven't bathed him in ages. I was ropable. Billy had forgotten to empty the bath.
Now If theres one thing my obsessive compulsive boyfriend hates is dirt and mess. So the only thing that I could think of to do was open our bedroom door where Bill was sleeping and let my saturated stink bomb curl up in between snoring Bill and his cotton sheets.
In the morning its- "Morning babe, Elvy slept with me"
"morning babe, that's nice dear"
I have to get off the computer so his Holiness can play medieval war games. xxx

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