Once again I appear after another extended break. By “break”, I mean “I really just couldn’t be bothered to write anything on here.” This is for a couple of reasons.
Reason 1 – I am so utterly boring, writing about things I do at home would mean I should rename the site to “Crap you read because you want to feel better about your life”
Reason 2 – I cannot write about things that happen at work due to my contract stating that I cannot write about things that happen at work. Thus I am not allowed to tell you about the thing that happened when blahblahblahblah which was so funny I almost smiled.
But I thought I should at least come and give you a post. Given that I pay for the domain name and hosting. So lets see where this post goes!
Right. First things first. Important site news. Those of you in IT will know all about the cookie tracking news. Those who don’t have a clue would have noticed things on websites that mention “Our cookie policy” and how they can be used to track you. So therefore, below is the cookie policy for this website: (By reading it, you accept the policy)
I like white chocolate chip ones. Fresh and not too crunchy, but also not so wet you feel like you are holding a fish which is recently dead just bends in to an uncomfortable shape as you hold it from the side. But then, I also don’t want one that looks like it is suffering from rigor mortis. I also don’t want my cookie to track what I do. The cookies I like have no idea how to give me targeted advertising because cookies are food. Tasty food. Which makes me fat.
I hope that covers it. And now I really want a cookie. I knew I shouldn’t have started this post.
In other news which I shall now move on to, my car died a horrible horrible death….and my wife has told me I should look at other women’s bums. That I should study them. Window shopping has never been so much fun.
So. The car.
I had a nice car. It did things like drove me places. It also had a stereo in it so I could put music on really loudly and be obnoxious to other road users. It was perfect. I treated it like I treat my wife. i.e – I filled it with rubbish and left it standing on the side of the road at night.
Hang on, I think I just said that my wife is a prostitute. Which she isn’t. Well, kinda is. I mean, so am I. So are you. Where I work love to pay me to come in and do things they like which makes them feel good. In return, they give me money. On the days where I have no work to do I sit there doing nothing and they still pay me. Thus they get that “I feel dirty all over” factor that would come with paying for a prostitute. I guess. I don’t know…I have never paid for one. I would approach my wife and mention I have an urge to find out, but I love my wife and children and I would miss them. And at 37 years of never having to attend an STD clinic, I like to think my record is going strong. And police records are a bore so if I did it and got caught, going for an interview and being asked if I had a criminal record is going to sound bad when I say “Yes. Yes I do. I once asked my wife to allow me to sleep with someone of lacking morales who would do all those things that me and her don’t do, like me dressing up as an important rich business man and she is a naughty creature of the night who helps me with my car…but we end up falling in love and she then becomes the best wife ever for doing all those things your wife wont do but she will now.” You know, that sounds good enough to make a film from. Maybe I could pitch it to a film studio. I could call it “Pretty Woman”. Anyway, something for me to think about. Nothing to bother you with. Unless…you know….don’t steal my idea. It is going to be movie gold.
What the hell was I talking about? Oh yes…my car. So anyway, I abused the heck out of that lovely car. And then it decided that it had enough and the following happened:
Day 1 – Driving home (I live 30 miles from work) I had a nice warning come up that said “Check coolant level”. I did. It was low. I filled it up. I felt manly. You know, in that way where as soon as you open the bonnet of a car and start to look at the motor you are suddenly the king of all men. Much like when you buy a new hammer.
Day 2 – Driving to work “Check coolant level”. At this point I thought “Coolant leak…we have a coolant leak” and turned in to a trekkie.
Then driving home the world came to an end.
The single worst part of the cascading failure was that the very first thing that went wrong was that the stereo stopped working. I heard the engine for the first time in years. I got nervous. I tried an engineer fix which involved smashing it as hard as I could with my hand. You will be surprised to know that it didn’t fix it. Then a few miles later the dashboard went to sleep. Then a few miles later the engine decided to go to sleep forever. I got a few weird looks as I stood on the side of the road (not touting for business) trying to close the eyelids on the headlights. Until I realised that it didn’t have any and I had pretty much stood there for 15 minutes poking it in the eyes.
But I was saved by a neighbour who towed me home. Except that he didnt. Because he brought with him a tow rope made of newspaper. Which snapped so many times that at one point it was so short I was actually now in front of him. The poor car got abandoned for a couple of days in a layby. That in itself isnt a bad thing, but you know…people do “things” in laybys along country roads. And I was pretty sure I saw a couple of blokes walking towards the car looking for some action. I was going to put a big sign on the car saying “NO DOGGING ACTION…PISS OFF!” but I figured that was more of an invitation.
The car was last seen being dragged away by a guy who bought its sorry carcass off of eBay. Meanwhile I have a sexy new one.
But lets move on to the one thing that I mentioned earlier that you know you want to read about.
A few weeks ago my wife said “Look at her butt. I think mine is better”. The single most loaded question I have ever been presented with. How do you answer that one? “Who? What one are you looking at? Oh her? Hadn’t noticed…” which shows my “yes sweetie, but I wouldn’t be looking anyway” side. Or “Yeah I saw that and thought the same.” which is like saying “I often have a look at other women’s backsides”. And what if I think “Actually, that one is a little better”. I am in for a nuclear winter from my dear wife. But then she basically told me it is OK to look at them as long as I think hers is better.
So I have started a plan of action which involves looking. As mentioned before, I run. I do a lot of races. I have started to watch every single womans lycra covered rear that I can in the name of “Investigative journalism”…and my finishing times in races are really starting to suffer from it. But I strive for perfection so I will continue to look, safe in the knowledge that my wife wants me to.
I am currently trying to get her to mention the following 2 items, but I feel that I am pushing my luck while pushing her towards a divorce:
1 – I think your boobs are better than hers, but I will continue to look at every woman’s just in case; because baby…I love you.
2 – Beer? I dont really like it. I guess I should try drinking as much as I can. And when I have, I will stumble towards other women and ask them to let me check out there bum…because my wife has asked me to do a survey.
So I haven’t cleared this with my wife but I know she will be up for it, if you girls want to send me pictures of your rear, I can do a comparison test.
Yes, I know. I AM selfless.
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