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So This Is What My Husband Is Wasting His Time On? By Mrs. Allen Keyes.

4 Feb

February 4, 2014

MRS keyes

I recently found out about what my husband Allen does at 3 in the morning. Alone. In the dark. He’s writing a blog!!! The nerve of that crumbbum! At least if it was porn I could deal with it. But he’s a …..blogger. I can barely say the disgusting word. I mean, really. How could I ever face the gals down at the salon if they knew? Why even the Korean girls doing our nails would feel superior to me! NOOOOO!

                       mk1

He can be bothered to blog for what I assume is zero wages (I don’t think this “Mr. Blog” concern is exactly on par with my must-read favorite the HuffPo), but  he can’t be bothered to take out the garbage or wash the dishes or flush the forchrissakes toilet after he eats one of his patented tuna and bologna sandwiches. Tunlogna he calls it. I call it a sure bet to make me waste a can of glade masking the aftermath!

And how he writes about me! He’d make you think I was some kind of vile harpy battering him with rolling pins, frying pans, and the like! Like I would ever hit him with ANYTHING…….well, anything that would leave a mark anyway. Lots of nosy people out there you know.

 mk2

And let me tell you something…..he’s no prince either. Maybe YOU’D like to put up with finding tufts of shedded back hair in your bed most mornings? Who even knew you could have that situation!??!

 mk3

And the string of inanities that comes out of that man’s mouth! I’ve read some of his stuff when he wasn’t around stinking up the house with his gas, so I suppose you actually DO have a clue about how stupid he is. If I have to hear ONE more time about how he wants to own a beagle named bagel, I swear I’ll scream.

So can “Mr. Blog” (if that is your real name? Is your last name really Blog?) just leave my husband Allen alone?  It’s hard enough to get him to wear pants for more than 2 minutes without this blogging thing distracting him. Do you know how humiliating it is when UPS delivers a package and Al is laying around in beat up boxers with the words “Here comes da judge” over the crotch??

Enough with this Mr. Blog sh*t already!

 

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The Egotistical Doctor

3 Feb

February 3, 2014

I was recently in the doctor’s office. No, not the waiting room, but this doctor’s private office. I sat across the desk from a fairly prominent cardiologist and talked about my health, etc. He was a pretty good guy and came across like he knew what he was talking about, and he better- it’s my heart we’re talking about. But before he came in I had a few minutes alone in the office and looked around. There were the usual degrees and diplomas on the wall, models and drawings of the human heart, reference books galore, all the stuff you’d expect. On his ornate desk, which was huge, were dozens of family photos. The doctor and his wife skiing, his kids sailing, the whole family on a tropical beach, etc, and pictures of them all with people I assume were celebrities but I honestly did not recognize.

But the pictures were all facing me.

Every picture faced the visitor, not the doctor. From where he was sitting, all he saw was the back of the frames. So obviously, these pictures were there for my benefit, not his. On my desk at work the pictures face me. I want to see them. They relax me, take me away from work for a few seconds. But the doctor’s pictures? I was supposed to be impressed by them.

Why? I don’t know, maybe it is simply the doctor’s ego. But do I want a doctor with a big ego? To a certain extent, yes. Not overly much, not overly confident, but I do want a doctor who has accomplished much and has a bit of an ego as opposed to a wishy-washy doctor who is in doubt of his diagnosis- especially in this case, when I was merely there as an insurance prerequisite.

If I have to look at his boring family vacation photos, then that’s the price I’ll pay.

What price won’t I pay?

ProstateExam2

 

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