My ex-sharp tongue

Today was Easter, so I hope all of those who celebrate it had a good one.

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Here in maison de merde, we’re borderline atheist so we didn’t celebrate.  First order of business: pork.  Why can’t I eat pork?  What is it about pork that makes me break out in hives and usually puke ’til the pigs fly?  I still don’t understand it.  I avoid it when possible, and when I absolutely must have bacon, I pop two benadryl.  This is fucked up.  I mean, it’s not an issue because we didn’t have an Easter ham and I can’t eat yet anyhow, but it’s something that bugs me.

Yup.  This little blockage is holdin’ strong like a klingon.  I’m quite dehydrated, so I’ll be getting myself some liquid crack at asscrack tomorrow.  IV fluids feel soooo good when I’m this depleted.  I’m almost looking forward to it.  If only I could do it at home!

It’s code red here in the mental health department.  Not for me, but for manchild.  After much disbelief and challenge, I finally believed him when he told me he hasn’t done an oil change on his truck since we lived in South Carolina.  Okay, so I still can’t believe it.  He’s so fucking anal about vehicle maintenance, and reprimands anyone who doesn’t get oil changes at regular intervals.  He’s a motorhead.  He’d cut of his foot before he’d go almost two years without changing the oil in his piece of shit truck.  Or so I thought.

He needs counseling more than I do, so I told him we can make it happen if he wants to see someone on the outside.  The longer he’s in this hole, the harder it is to climb out.  It breaks my tiny black heart, because I feel I’m responsible for it.  Some of it certainly is because of me and I can’t deny it, but most of it is his lack of ability to cope and adapt.  It sounds like something he can solve through talk therapy, but what do I know?

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The more probable scenario

 

5 thoughts on “My ex-sharp tongue

  1. Bummer your innards haven’t opened up yet. Not surprised that Mr. Man manifests his distress in oil change dysfunction. Their trucks are the outward manifestations of their psyches (OK, my huge (describes in nauseating detail here) truck was my protective shell, best friend, and if I could have figured out how, lover).

    Any Jewish folk in your family? 😀

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    • I’m not entirely sure. I think both sides were primarily cathoholic, but my dad’s dad was a man of mystery. Dad says we’ve got Shawnee in our blood. My other grandpa couldn’t eat pork, so he was a freak like me. Beef is iffy most of the time too.

      I would love to see the genealogy stuff my paternal g’ma put together. My Mom did a detailed report in her anthro class when she was in college. There was an emigration from England to the west Indies in the late 1700’s, so I’m just going to say I’m a pirate. Yarrrgh. Unless you’d like to adopt me, but I don’t think that’d make me Jewish either.

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      • Well, we don’t know about that, do we? (Rubs hands). Geology. Now THAT can be fun, If you’re on a mission trying to prove or disapprove something.

        Many Jewish children were hidden by Catholics during the Holocaust.

        Jewishness is passed through the female line, so you would be looking at your mother’s mother and your father’s mother, and their female ancestors. Having a Jewish father and a non-Jewish mother makes one non-Jewish.

        I’d love to adopt you, but between us we make up a completely nonfunctional unit. It would be a blast to hang out and visit though! Oh the silliness of it all!

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  2. My easter is hot cross buns, chocolate and antihistamines …the politics of it are soon 1990 and bacon and pork are overrated anyways!
    As for man child mainia … i think its the season for it!? So you have my sympathies! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

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