Connubial Bliss - NOT

I know you Peeps think Judy and I live in connubial bliss.  But that simply is not the case.  Below are a few snippets and views of our marriage.

I went out last night and got really wasted.  I woke up in the middle of the night next to some chick that was snoring and farting, so I knew I made it home okay.

The wife is on the warpath again.  She was up for making a sex movie last night, and all I did was suggest we should hold auditions for her part.

I've accidentally swallowed some Scrabble tiles.  My next shit could spell disaster.

My sister-in-law sat on my glasses and broke them.  It was my own fault.  I should have taken them off.

I spent a couple of hours defrosting the fridge last night, or "foreplay" as she likes to call it.

After both suffering from depression for a while, the wife and I were going to commit suicide yesterday.  But strangely enough, once she killed herself, I started to feel a lot better.  So I thought, “Fuck it, soldier on!”

I woke up this morning at 8, and could smell something was wrong.  I got downstairs and found the wife face down on the kitchen floor, not breathing!  I panicked.  I didn’t know what to do.  Then I remembered McDonald’s serves breakfast until 11:30.

The other night, my wife asked me how many women I'd slept with.  I told her, "Only you.  All the others kept me awake all night!"

Judy packed my bags, and as I walked out the front door, she screamed, "I wish you a slow and painful death, you bastard!"
"Oh," I replied, "So now you want me to stay??!!??"

I've just installed strobe lights in the bedroom.  It makes the wife look like she's moving during sex.

Plus…

 
A Catholic boy in confession says, “Bless me Father, I have sinned, I masturbated while thinking about my sister.”
“That's a disgrace,” said the priest, “especially when you have two gorgeous brothers.”

A government survey has shown that 91% of illegal immigrants come to this country so that they can see their own doctor.

No marriage is perfect...so they tell me.  Yours????

You Might Be A Redneck If...

-You have a dozen license plates on your garage wall, but none on your truck.

-Police dust your furniture more often than you do.

-You’ve ever used a Slurpee as a cocktail mixer.

-You bought a “Girls Gone Wild” video cus your daughter’s in it.

-The 7-11 clerk knows just how you like your hotdogs.

-You’ve never had a haircut from a non-relative.

-The emergency room doctor tells you “see you next Saturday.”

-You’ve proposed marriage through a karaoke microphone.

-Your ceiling fan used to be your bass boat’s propeller.

New Air Force Medal - A Joke

This is a joke in more ways than one. 

Getting a medal rated over the Browns Star Medal for sitting in a comfy chair hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away and playing video games?

Get real Air Force…

Questions Answered

(Not necessarily me -  kinda)

A few days ago I ask for questions about anything you wanted to know.  I did answer Mystic Mud by telling you about some adventures on the Chattahoochee River.  Also in the comments was a request from That Janie Girl wanting to hear (read) a story from my twenties.  Then Janie Junebug asked about my grandkids.  So let me start with the twenties.

I started my twenties by being discharged for the Navy and going to work at the experiment station at GA Tech.  It was just a warehouse job where I would deliver reams of paper and supplies to the engineers and physicist all over the campus.  The job lasted about 6 months when I went to work for the Atlanta Coca Cola Bottling Co. as a route salesman.

Also, a few blocks from the GA Tech campus was a bar in the basement of an historic building (the first apartment house built in Altanta after the Civil War) called The Bottom of the Barrel. I was a nightly regular with my own beer mug hanging on the wall.  When I walked in, Walt would grab the mug and have the beer on the bar as I walked by.  The music was folk music with a host of awesome local folk singers.  Some of the best times of my life was spent in that little pub.

I also met the young lady who would become my first wife.  Pretty as could be and I enjoyed hanging with her.  But she was still in high school (the youngest of 15 kids who’s mom had died of breast cancer and was raised by her sisters and shipped all over the country cause her to be held back a grade or two.)  We got married and she became pregnant and was kicked out of school.  Then, after some pretty severe hours of yelling and screaming and pleading, I eventually paid the bill and got to take my two girls home. 

Back in those days the dad could not be in the delivery room…thank God…and I had to leave the room when feeding time came around.  I never got to hold my daughter until we got home and she handed her to me so she could get out of the car.  I didn’t put her down much after that.

The twenties was a time of trying to get furniture (no parents to give us shit, though my brother did give us a couch that was on his carport.)  Then we had a few times of changing apartments and just trying to live.  Until I went to my first NASCAR race.  I was hooked.

I built and raced around the dirt tracks around the area and my weekends were at a racetrack somewhere.  It took a while, but the talent peaked and the money ran out and the wife wanted to eat and pay bills and clothe Marni.  So I sold it and concentrated, as much as I could through the haze of maryjane and booze, on providing for the family.

The wife went back to school when Marni was born and the senior class helped raise her.  I was going to a tech school at the same time and we would do our homework together at night.  When she graduated, she got a job with a bank in Atlanta and her career took off.  That was also the beginning of the end.

We were growing in different ways.  She was working with men and women with degrees and I was a truck driver.  We grew apart and after 15 years we split up.  She and her husband are good friends.  We decided that because our marriage didn’t work out, it was no reason to make it any harder on Marni.  I was always involved with her in school, went to her band concerts and most times I set with her mom.

Not a lot of stuff to tell about my formative years.  I was a vet who supported the war and had many fights with anti-war pussies.  I was also for integration, which caused me to have many conflicts with the good old boys and a few women.  I knew all the bullshit about the intelligence of the black man was just talk.  I serve with many back men that I trusted, literally, with my life.  They held some of the hardest jobs in the Navy and they were my friends.

So I had my small adventures, raised my daughter, raced a few races, drank a bunch and smoked just as much.  As for the last two, I got tired of feeling like shit the next morning and having to run a Coke route, and the dope got to be too expensive.  Plus I didn’t like not being in control of my senses and faculties.  So I chose moderation.

That’s about it.  I may have a flash back or two every now and then. If I do, I’ll tell you about it.

As for my grandkids, they have been a part of Judy and my life since they were born.  Until recently they spent every weekend with us.  They have been on cruises and all our vacations and gave us bookoo joy.  But now Jarrett is 17 and driving and about to start his first job at Six Flags.  Jordan is 14 going on 25 and has her girlfriends to hang with.  When she does come over now, she brings one of her friends with her.  But they are growing into great young people and I am proud of both of them.

That’s it Peeps.  PEEPS…WAKE UP…

Next time ask better questions if you want the dirty scoop.  I did post some TMI post a few years ago that would interest you.  Let me know if you want the repost… but be warned…