Marital blisters

Somebody recently asked me if marriage was as advertised. Now that I've been married for over half a year, I think I can speak with authority about marriage.

Thinking back to when I was single, I remember when I would wake up alone. I'd have the whole bed to myself and I could fart as much as I wanted to.

Now when I wake up, it's usually because of a cold feeling I get. This cold feeling is usually derived from the evil entity in the room that has stolen all the duvet and is currently wrapped in a duvet cocoon, like a caterpillar waiting to burst out into a horrible tantrum. I try pull a little bit of the duvet back towards my quarter of the bed, but I fear waking the creature within.

It's not just the cold that wakes me. Sometimes I wake up feeling a sharp pain in my leg. I turn in bed and see evil red eyes staring at me, followed by the sound of an unworldly voice, "Move your leg!" I try to go back to sleep, but the the fear and snoring keeps me awake for hours. As I finally drift off to sleep the entity punches my nose. I hear the devil's voice again, "Move your face!"

So I'd have to say that marriage is as advertised. The advert however is Paranormal Activity.

Giving the cold shoulder

My wife is currently fighting a case of man-flu. While my wife stayed home, I went off to work and we had the following conversation via e-mail:


Wife: *Sniff* Where's my Lemsip?

Sad muppet: In the kitchen. I might be home late tonight, as I have to scour the bars for eligible young ladies to replace you.

Wife: Why would you replace me? I might not die...

Sad muppet: Sounds like you don't have much time left in this world. Oh well, you had a good run.

Wife:  I'm feeling a bit *cough* better *sneeze*.

Sad muppet:  If you feel like you're not going to make it, do you mind dieing in the shed? It would be awkward for me if I bring a lady friend home tonight and there's a corpse in the house. I'm sure you understand.

Wife: If I do go to the shed to die, what are you going to do with my corpse? How are you going to explain that to your new lady?

Sad muppet: Don't worry. I'll have you buried once she's left the next morning. I'm not insensitive.

Wife: Are you going to lock me in the shed when you get home?

Sad muppet: No. I presume you'll de dead by then. No need to keep you locked up.

Wife: What if a fox eats my decomposing limbs?

Sad muppet: Less of you to bury. Cost saving.

Wife: But I'd rather be buried with ALL my limbs.

Sad muppet: Why? Are you going to need them?

Wife: Well, no, but I thought it would be nice to return to the earth complete.

Sad muppet: And you will. It's just that some of it will be returned via a fox's bum.

Wife:  I hope this news doesn't upset you, but I think I'm probably not going to die for another few years.

Sad muppet: We'll see about that.

Wife: If I die in mysterious circumstances, you're going to be well banged up.

Sad muppet:  Is a knife in the back while you sleep known as "mysterious circumstances"?

Wife: Not really...

Sad muppet: What if you're in a room by yourself? The room can only be unlocked from the inside and you have no arms or legs.

Wife: Block of ice!

Sad muppet: You watch too much CSI. By the way, I'm expecting a delivery of a large block of ice. Could you please turn the heating off until I get home. Thanks

Wife: What's happening to my arms and legs?

Sad muppet: Fell off due to your cold and a chainsaw incident.

Wife: Would you say that chainsaw + limbs = "fell off"?

Sad muppet: Hmmm... sounds like mysterious circumstances to me.

Wife:  I would like to go on record and say I am fundamentally against the whole block of ice and chainsaw idea.

Sad muppet: But I was going to do an ice-sculpture of you.

Wife: Oh.  Sorry. Well, OK then. But please keep the chainsaw away from my legs and arms.

Sad muppet: The thing is, ice-sculpting is difficult and it would be easier if my model didn't have limbs. I'm sure you can appreciate this.

Wife:  I think I would rather - all things considered - to keep my limbs and sacrifice the ice sculpture.

Sad muppet: Why must you always piss on my ideas? Why can't you just support me for once?

Wife: I'm sorry. You can cut my limbs off.

Sad muppet: Thank you! That means so much to me. You're awesome. Now go to the shed and die.