Good Weekend So Far...

Don't want to jinx anything, but I have managed not to get in a fight with my husband or hit any objects in the path of my car.

Well, lemme see...what's on my agenda for the rest of the weekend? So far, I've done a shitload of laundry...people, how many socks does your husband or significant sex slave have in his or her drawer? Why did I marry the one man on Earth that insists on have 48 pair at his disposal at all times. It's like he got the inside scoop that in Armegeddon, white tube socks will be the key to survival. Ugh. And listen, don't think I can bring home any kind either...Target, Macy's...nope. Hanes "with the tiny short rib top that doesn't squish my ankles" are the only ones allowed in the house, and God forbid they change the packaging. If they ever take the yellow hard hat icon off that plastic package, I'm fucked. That's the only way I know I got the right ones. People, he forced me to buy back up packages, in case they discontinued them. I bought 10 packs of 6...all they had on the shelf at Wal-Mart one night. It was like we were weird clothing horders.

You know, now that you have me telling stories on the freak show I am married to, let me tell you about his hair gel obsession. Salon Selectives. You can only find that shit at like $1.00 stores now. They discontinued it. It's turqoise blue. You can spot it a mile away. Luckily for him, I like to shop, so sometimes I just go on hair gel missions and buy like 10 bottles at a time. Sadly, we knew the day would come that they, too, would run out. So, we had to go to the store together, and do a scratch and sniff test in the hair gel aisle at Target. And we have settled on Herbel Essences "Stick Straight" or some shit like that. It's in a big hot pink bottle with a neon green top. Now, I wish you knew what hairdo my man runs...but listen, I have 2 words that describes it perfectly. Wayne Newton. He runs the Wayne and always has. Straight back Christopher Walken style. But he's much cuter than both of them. I finally got him to stop blow drying it about 3 years ago. I told him he was blowing it out of his head (balding) and it was dunzo. No more blowdryer.

Let's see, what else does he obsess about? Secret Deodorant. Must be Summer Breeze 'flavored' as he calls it. And he jacks it up to the size of an ice cream cone, and slathers it from inside his elbow to the arm pit. He hates it when I watch him apply it and make wise ass comments about his sweaty elbow pits. The funny thing is the man doesn't sweat. It's so weird. He also has like 5 hairs on his chest. It's like being married to Baby Huey.

God am I glad he doesn't read this blog. D-i-V-O-R-C-E ...or atleast a good ass whuppin'.