Before we get started, let me just say, I know the truth about me.
I’m an annoying, loud, obnoxious pain the ass. Ask anyone that has sat next to me in a department meeting or stood in line with me at the self-check line…anywhere. I am absolutely funny to only me. I know and accept that. Made peace with it. Moving on with muh life.
But, here’s the thing–I kind of expect JoJo (the missus) to have my back. To enjoy my nonsense, to revel in the fact that she married a complete dumpster fire. However, it’s become apparent that she doesn’t exactly have time for any of my shit. And, I mean, that’s fine and all. I’ve got other things going on and stuff.
Some recent conversations we’ve had have illustrated that she doesn’t have time for my brand of nonsense, though. Take, for example, this interaction:
JoJo: *storming into office* Oh. My. God. I just found the show from back in the day that made me want to work in law enforcement. This lady called 911 and told the dispatcher “I’ll kill him graveyard dead!” And…
Me: Do you know the difference between a graveyard and a cemetery?
JoJo: *walks away*
Me: *screaming after her* Oh, so I have to attend your TED Talk, but you can bail on mine?!?!
Graveyards are attached to churches, cemeteries are not–to answer your question. Like, I don’t see what her problem was. I was listening, engaging, and trying to contribute to the conversation, but she just stepped out in the middle of this interaction.
What the shit is up with that?
I was willing to learn about some show from the 90’s that exactly one person watched (that would be JoJo), but she can’t listen to my “Dictionary Online Presents…” presentation?
Just the other day, JoJo started singing Manic Monday by the Bangles and she was absolutely butchering the words. So I sang it again with the correct lyrics. All I got was a death stare and a declaration that I was “not letting her have her feelings”. This was on a Friday, in case context clues made you think otherwise.
Like, I’m sorry that I didn’t want you to go out in public and make a fool of yourself by mixing up the lyrics to an iconic 80’s pop ditty. BAD HUSBAND!
A few days ago, I asked JoJo if she wanted ice cream. This is how that went:
Me: Do you want some ice cream?
JoJo: Of course, I want some ice cream, you asshole!
Me: First of all, calm down, crazy.
JoJo: You know the doctor put me on steroids–how the fuck am I supposed to calm down?!?
This was followed by her decimating a small Japanese village. At least, that’s what happened in my mind. I think she actually just ate her ice cream. But there was destruction, so I don’t really consider what I said to be hyperbole.
Basically, things are par for the course at Casa de Fatass…but I’ve learned that my nonsense is no match for JoJo’s nonsense when it’s souped up by doctor prescribed steroids. When She-Hulk (JoJo, again) is on a tear, it’s best to just let her do, say, and think what she needs to do, say, and think, and pray for daylight.
Until next time…