Over the years I have made it a point to keep my relationship with my wife and our marriage off of my blog and definitely off of Facebook for sure. Granted, looking back through the years and lifespan of my blogs I see that I’ve scratched the surface enough for readers to know that I am indeed married to a wonderful, caring wife. I don’t just say that here because she reads my blog, it is said and conveyed daily in our private lives, just so y’all know I’m not looking for brownie points from her. My wife and I have a “bad” habit, we talk with each other all the time about things that actually matter, we go beyond talking about work (which is actually forbidden by both of us), the children, or the bills that pile up. Yes, we do talk about those important things but they are not allconsuming to the point where that is all we talk about. We are different in how we talk, I like to talk in a long winded manner, telling stories, and bringing the details to light. Yes, we have talked about that as well, seems to get worse as I age. My wife on the other hand is more emotional about things, eventhough she tries to be short and sweet, she suffers from a similar affliction of not being able to get to the point. She considers it a fault of hers, but I admire that she trusts me with her emotions. The other day we had one of those “out of the blue” conversations that she likes to start on occasion. Out of the blue for me but well thought about on her part. Just know this, I will be 47 next month and she just turned 40 this past June, so I personally understand we are not the same age we were when we got married 17 years ago. We’ve put on a few miles, a few pounds, a few wrinkles, and much gray hair for me personally, we don’t talk about her one or two she has pop up, we just color it and move on.
So, she asks me if I think she is turning into her mother as she gets older. I will explain my answers here as I explained them to her. A husband who pays attention to his wife sees changes over time, sees the different moods and generally knows what causes them and what cures them, he listens not only to what she is saying but what isn’t being said as well. I like to think I have a good handle on “reading” my wife and she has a great flare for doing the same to me. We have learned that there is a time and place for everything. I don’t know about other marriages but I consider ours healthy in many ways, the main one being we still love one another, it not tolerating each other, it’s wanting to be with each other, needing and depending on one another to get through each day and night. The answer to the question is no I don’t think she is turning into her mother. But, and this but raised an eyebrow with my wife, as we get older, as our children get older, I see her professional life taking over the mother and wife life. Meaning, she puts in long exhausting days at the office being a manager and being in charge of people, money, and property all with the goal of turning a profit. Most people don’t think of a doctor’s office as a business and the goal of every business is to make money. She has been an office manager there for 14 years, she knows her shit frontwards and backwards. On top of that, she does it all with just her high school GED. (Life happened, that’s all I want to say). But when she gets home she doesn’t need to be in charge, everything at home usually runs like a well oiled machine, thanks in no small way to my own personal efforts. You see, I work my 40 hour work week in three days over the weekend, so I am home all week long mostly.
Yes, I have seen her go from her early 20s to now 40, yes the body I knew for her then has changed, yes her mind has matured as well, and yes I do see the start of the crows feet wrinkles and the occasional gray hair or three. Big deal, we’ve gotten older, it was expected, I knew it would happen, her problem, in my opinion as told to her, is she has yet to accept the fact that she has now turned 40. Women, in general, in my opinion, treat 40 like a death sentence or something that is so feared that when it happens that they magically are going to change and not be wanted any longer. I have never, nor will I ever, tell my wife I want to trade her in for two 20 year olds. I like where we are in life together. Does my wife wear a moo-moo? No she does not. She does wear sweats and my old t-shirts around the house. When not at work she has her hair up in a pony tail and isn’t wearing make-up, which is what I like. I don’t like all the make-up and bullshit, but she does, so I shut up. But what she really wants to know is if I think that she is mentally, or the way she speaks, or how she acts, or how she thinks, or is anything she does show signs of her turning into her mother. This ultimately could be the question of death for me. I might need to sleep with one eye open, she does spend a good deal of time watching the I.D. channel. My fate has now come crystal clear to me, it has all been a dream, now I get to die a horrific death that nobody will ever be able to blame on her. But does it have to be so bad? I think not, and here’s why.
I explained to my wife that she need not worry about her own personal growth, evolution, and development because she should be happy that she remains her own person. It’s true, she’s changed, I’ve changed, we all change for better or worse for whatever the reason may be. I tease her a bit though, and tell her I like her mother, she has some great traits and qualities which I really admire. At the same time, I enjoy who my wife is, how she acts, how she speaks, how she thinks, how she moves, how she dresses, and especially how she makes me feel every single day, which is loved. I unfortunately do not think my answers are well taken or understood simply because I can only give likenesses and observations, because in my opinion, the only person who truly knows the truth is her and how she feels. Yes, I am her partner, but no I don’t read minds, a person can only learn by what he is shown or told when it comes to a relationship such as marriage. Is she the same woman I met all those years ago? Yes and no. But here’s the catch, I like who she is and how she represents herself, she is her own person, I feel lucky to be allowed to be with her through the best of times and the worst of times.
To sum this all up, we all change as we age, we all make a choice to either accept those changes in our partner or to not, and sadly that is why we see marriages fail, failing because people don’t think long term, they don’t consider that maturity makes us different, and we don’t prepare mentally for those kinds of challenges. Why? Only reason I can think of is it is because we are selfish. But I’m no marriage counselor, I’m no expert in the field of relationships, I just a married man who still enjoys the company of his wife. I offer only one piece of advice, find what works for y’all and nurture that entire process and live life like there is no tomorrow, because, you know, shit happens when we least expect it to happen. I look at my late grandparents, married 83 years at the time of his death and she died of a broken heart 2 months later. That’s love, that’s needing the other person to be in your life, that’s being heart-broken when a part of you is missing.
Okay, I’m done with my story, my peak into my private life, and I hope y’all understand that our marriage is not one of tolerance but one of acceptance. We are who we are, it is what it is, and we all just need to relax and be who we are comfortable being. Or be like me, an asshole tainted by my dislikes for people in the general population of our planet. Yes, I have a low tolerance for most people, but at the same time I have compassion towards those I care about, more often than not there is no middle ground, and I don’t play well with others. With that being said, I end this post, but fear not, there will be more, much much more.
Throughout my life it’s been an established fact that I don’t mix well or tolerate people of the fucktard classification. As well, I’ve made it no secret here on this blog. From an outsider’s point of view it may appear I interact with more than my fair share of fucktards and the more I look into that sad little fact it seems to be more true than I’m willing to admit at the moment. Eventhough I’ve never, that means not even once in my life, claimed to be smart, educated, or well versed in any one particular area which I could be considered an expert, with one exception, I have common sense. I have learned over the years, and pointed it out often, that every situation and/or conversation should have a basis in common sense but often skips that particular rational part and heads straight down the rabbit hole. Which is where I usually stop, so I can grab my shovel and fill in the fucking hole so the ignorance can’t get back out. It’s a beautiful process I use because most people cannot handle my version of blunt sarcasm and don’t know how to react. However, last night I met a young man who was more challenging to me than I could have ever easily imagined possible.
Strangely enough I was at Walmart, getting some Crayons, watercolor paints, brushes, and a large pad of art paper to box up to send to my granddaughter for her 4th birthday which is coming up. Crayons were what I was on the hunt for because the school supplies have yet to recover from being picked over since the start of school this past Monday. Anyway, I spotted what looked like the last big box of Crayons and this younger guy, late 20s, reached in and grabbed it before me. He had the look of victory on his face, as if by mere inches he had beaten me in his imaginary race, while lipping to me in silence “eat shit you fucker” as he smiles to walk away. Meanwhile, an older lady in her probably late 70s asked him where he had found that box of Crayons because she has been looking for the better part of 25 minutes with no luck. He got real close to her and, while talking extremely loud, I guess he assumed she was deaf, began by telling her, “sorry you old bitch, you and that other motherfucker there are shit out of luck so you two slow losers should just move the fuck on and get out of the way”. In my head it took me a minute to process what this douchebag just said to her, the lady now who looks very scared. As he walked away I put my hand on his shoulder and told this piece of shit, in my most civil tone, that he owed this woman an apology immediately. With this cockeyed look he asked me ” and what the fuck would I want to do that!” Which is where my sarcasm came flying out when I told him that “I’d love to explain it to you but I don’t have any Crayons”. I further explained to him what a grand gesture it would be if he were to just hand her the box of Crayons and then walk away. By this time we have sparked the interest of a Walmart manager who asked if there was something she could help with. The dickhead barked off to her the she could kindly fuck off. C’mon man, its just Crayons is all I can think to myself.
And then this man opens the box of Crayons and begins shoveling them into his mouth, chewing them up with his mouth open and slobbery pieces falling out when he tells me ” if y’all want these Crayons so bad y’all can pick the nuggets out of my shit later tonight. ” I know I was just staring at him in amazement as I watched him walk to the line to check out. By this time he was greeted by our friendly boys in blue who kindly helped him find his way outside the store. Well, shit, I guess I’m done here, I checked out, and was waiting on my son in the restroom when the older lady came up to me asked if I minded if she hugged me as she was hugging me. My son caught the end of the hug and then she told him he was lucky he didn’t have a violent dad, and he replied to her saying “my dad isn’t violent but he hates Crayon eating crazies.” She cracked a smile and walked off. As we walked out we see the Crayon eater in the back seat of the patrol car, I wonder how he plans on explaining his behavior to the judge.
On the way home my 14 year old son, now a freshman in high school, explained to how surprised and disappointed he was in the man’s behavior, and while shaking his head he says “some people’s children”. Of course as soon as we get home he started telling his mother about the Crayon eater, who stood there with her jaw dropped in amazement. She explained the ONLY reason his dad didn’t kick this piece of shit’s ass is because he knows he’s too old to be someone’s girlfriend in jail. I guess that does cross my mind. As I think back on this whole thing I’m still left wondering what would posses an individual to eat Crayons to show his victory. I’m reminded that he has already reproduced, I would assume, or maybe the Crayons were for personal use. Fortunately I will NEVER have the displeasure of knowing. Now I get to add him to the growing list of fantastic fucktards I have met in my lifetime. If it matters, I did find some Crayons for my granddaughter, one day I will have to tell her this story if her mother doesn’t beat me to it.
Okay boys and girls I have a little adventure to tell you about. Very recently I found myself at the mall with my wife, my birthday present to her was not actually a present, it was a trip to her favorite stores to pick out clothes she has wanted. The longer we are married the harder it is to get gifts for special occasions. Some of y’all might actually feel the same way, plus giving someone a gift blindly is very hit or miss, what they liked yesterday may have very well changed overnight. So, I have a bad habit, I don’t buy gifts, we go places or do something or in this case we made a special trip to the mall. In general, my wife was a little confused, for the first time I wasn’t clear about the budget, sure I had one in mind since going over the budget would have cut into the bill paying. Nevertheless, I told her that she had free reign, she knows the bank account and so forth and I knew she would “shop responsibly” in the end. Plus, as a direct bonus to me, I was there to help pick out new summer attire, that is if she actually buys anything. Usually, whether for work or for street clothes, I always get to go because she wants my “opinion”. Oh well, its just the way it is.
The first place she goes into is Victoria’s Secret, a store in my opinion which has gone seriously down hill because everything is geared toward the “teen” and everything has become tame and lame. I understand business, but I remember the Victoria’s Secret from back in the day when I was dating my ex, and it rivaled Fredrick’s of Hollywood at the time. So, the moral of the story is that if you want “trashy” lingerie you need to shop at Zone D Exotica or buy it online. How can a person buy lingerie, in general, online? Anyhow, we go in because she “needs” (wants) new bras and Victoria’s secret has convinced her over the years that she can only wear their brand bras because of her figure. At least that is the line I’ve heard from them and my wife repeat. Ok, she’s 5’2″, about 115#, where’s a size 2, and sports 36DDDs. I joked with her the other day because she was feeling her age, and in a complimentary fashion I mentioned that I haven’t noticed her age because the boobs are still rockin’ all on their own. She tells me one day they won’t be that way, yea, but that day is not today! In the store she picks out a few sets of varying colors, I know this because she tells me as we go along. I don’t personally care what they look like, however I don’t care for the padded ones since she doesn’t need help squishing the boobs out. I can always convince the employees that I need to be in the fitting room with her because she cant come out to show me and model the lingerie. In 17 years I have been told no only once, and that just turned into selfie after selfie after selfie. Other husbands sit outside, looking very uncomfortable sitting in the pink and white striped boudoir chair, holding her purse, and keeping the small children in line. So, we found one bra and panty set that she was happy with, she tried on 14 sets and some more singles. I’m not complaining, I enjoy the show, in fact I love the show, I was just saying. We wait in line, pay the $72.89, and we exit happily.
She wanted some new jean shorts, tank tops, and a new bikini. I don’t know that all of those things can be purchased in one store, but we were going to give it a shot. She likes Hollister so we started there, not my favorite store, clothes are more for the teen with an assload of daddy’s money. But, she likes their jeans and jean shorts. Being familiar with this store as she comes here allot, I know that when its time to try on everything that is there barely enough room for one person, so I know I will be riding the imitation plastic leather couch, holding her purse and the remainder of the clothes. How do you try on clothes in a 2’x2′ closet anyway? She was put in the room right by the end of the couch, I could touch the door handle I was so close. One thing I hate about this store is the over abuse of perfumes and colognes people wear in a confined space. Makes my eyes water, not good when I wear contacts. Reminds me of the VIP rooms at a strip club, mixed perfumes, mixed sweat in the chairs, spilled alcohol on the floor, it generally has such a musk that it reminds me of a funeral parlor where all of the older ladies feel they must bath in their preferred scent as if to compete with all of the others. I like a lite pleasant smell, one you don’t notice until you are close to the nape of the neck, y’all know what I’m talking about. Then, BOOM, she walks out in a pair of these jean shorts that are very tight, very short, yet still tasteful enough because her vagina isn’t eating them and spilling out the leg holes. Impressive! My wife does not get into the whole “if it zips it fits” craze. She prefers comfortably snug. She tries on a few more, same style, different colors, they all look fine enough to me, but that’s not the answer we are looking for and I know it, so I go for the white pair and the blue jean pair, both show off her tanned legs nicely. Holy fuck! Two pair of shorts were $93.89 and we still weren’t done, off to the Guess store, a personal favorite of mine.
The Guess store was an utter clusterfuck with the summer sale going on, shit everywhere it wasn’t supposed to be, employees talking and texting instead of helping people out. Luckily for us, the bathing suit section hadn’t been raped and ransacked yet, well not real bad in my opinion. She picks out three that she likes and one I was fond of because it was different. She hates all of them after trying them on, looking to old ladyish for her taste. At this point in time she talks me into driving to Galveston, about a 50 minute drive for us, to go suit shopping, she wants to go back to a place she bought hers for our trip to Florida a few years back. Sure, why not, I was done with the mall anyway. We load up her bags in the trunk of the Mustang and head to the Strand, a section of Galveston that has existed since the 1800s, now its mostly shops, bars, and restaurants. While driving through Houston in average Houston traffic, meaning it was steady and thick but moving at about 75mph, my wife slips off the jeans she is wearing, surprise for me, and slips on her new white shorts after cutting the tags off. I didn’t even see her bring them into the car. Ever want to make the women in the car next to you on the passenger side blush? Have your wife changing in the car doing 80 mph passing an SUV with the woman and her boys in the back seat gawking. We arrived safely to Galveston, park, pay, and off we are walking.
She spots a few tanks in the window of the surf shop we were walking by and pulls me inside to go check them out. She was looking for the kind one wears sans bra, its a special kind from what she tells me, got a liner in it so the person wearing it isn’t pointing at everyone looking like she is smuggling raisins. I’m good either way. This is a giant store, there are racks after racks after rack of bathing suits, even the female employees were wearing tiny little bikinis. I like this place already. It was amazing to watch the guys in the store that were there with their wives, girlfriends, friends, or significant others. While watching them watching the tiny bikini clad girls walk around, bending over with straight legs, and stretching to the point that the material of their tops was at the point of failing, which would be catastrophic, boobs everywhere if it happens., I noticed that they also were selling margaritas and daiquiris, bonus. Cheap as well, I don’t prefer frozen margaritas but two giant one’s served in a souvenir style cup with a really crazy straw was only eight bucks. I hand my wife hers and away we go to start the hunt. She picked out one style she liked, only one suit too, and without showing it to me on the hanger she disappears into the changing room. I meandered over, giving her time to wiggle out of her closes and wiggle back into the suit she is trying on. She pulls the curtain back far enough for me to tie the strings on the back for her. She closes the curtain, and we know why, she needs the time to “adjust” everything so there is nothing hanging out that shouldn’t be. The curtain rips open! There she stands, my tanned wife in a white bikini, she is looking slick, she spins in the mirrors outside the changing room, and I guess she decides she is not liking it after all. I’m instructed to stand there and guard her “stuff” while she gets another. Remember I was talking about the guys in the store, well, they aren’t shy about staring, not even a little subtle, but then again, I was pleasantly watching her walk away as well. I see an employee, half her age, helping her out, pointing around and so forth, and then my wife returns. I was told she didn’t care for the first one, the bottoms felt like they were sliding inside her and she feared a very revealing cameltoe. So, she explained she was looking for “cunt huggers” not “cunt eaters” like the one she just tried on. She gets a dirty potty mouth at all the appropriate times, but I saw her point, trust me. She finds one that makes her happy, I never got to see it either, I was told it will be a surprise. While doing a secret check out, hiding it all from me, the same employee who was helping her began talking with my wife again. Apparently she is the manager of the store and thinks my wife has some talents that she would like to employ. Yes, she offered her a job on the weekends. The pay wasn’t bad, $20 an hour plus tips, part time, no benefits, but 80% of clothing in the store as long as she was an employee. Also, she would be able to use my veteran’s discount for an additional 10% off. My wife is actually considering it, she thinks it will be fun, she likes the uniform, and she thinks she would be a help to the older crowd who are a bit shyer in their needs. She has to call her by this Friday afternoon if she wants to give it a shot this weekend.
So now we walk around some more, stopping in at many more island shops, drinking many more margaritas, and finally we got back in the car, not to go home, but to head to the seawall to park so we could go walk the beach for a while. There was a beautiful sunset, we watched the sun slowly but surely descend into the depths of the horizon. Feeling hungry we walked over to a seafood place, I cant remember the name tho for some reason, but we went in, it was very laid back, had classic rock playing relatively load, but it was the coziness of it that made it a cool environment. We ordered, we ate, we talked, talked allot about this summer and what we wanted to do, we are going to San Antonio for the 4th of July weekend, which I already knew, since it is going to be my father’s day present from the kids. To sum it all up, it was nice to go out alone with my wife, something that is very rare anymore, but this is something we both committed to change starting right then. Fine with me, that’s why I married her, to spend time with her, to be able to do things together. There are many more reasons of course, but we wanted a life together to do things together. Also, we discussed the upcoming concerts for the rest of the year, told me to pick three or four so we could go. Has my wife received a headwound? She is volunteering to see rock concerts? Nice. I mentioned our vacation to Florida two years ago, I was doing something with the kids and I get a text from my wife with this picture attached, asking me if I would join her on the beach for a walk. What do y’all think my answer was?
I mentioned yesterday that I really appreciated every single birthday wish that came to me for my birthday, and then I wake up to the one you are seeing now. I always enjoy when everyone sends me pictures of their boobs, and sending me boobs for my birthday just rocks! Again, thank you all for all the great birthday wishes!
Many of y’all figured out that today is my birthday and have been wishing me a happy birthday all day. It is true, I was born 16,801 days ago today, I’ll let y’all do the math. Anyway, I’m very lazy lately here on the blog as well as on social media so I wanted to give a shotgun blast type thank you to everyone for making this a great day and making me smile more than I might be entitled to. Again, thank you for all of the nice messages, videos, emails, and pictures, I really appreciate EVERY single one of them.
After recent research into myself, meaning I am always looking for more information about the circumstances which led to my adoption. For y’all newbies, yes, I’m adopted. Search the blog, you will see. My biological mother forwarded me a bundle of letters that were between her, her mother, and the midwife that was involved that had some shocking information that really made sense. The discussion in the letters were about me being born on the 31st of October, yes that’s Halloween, and how she wanted me born either before or after but not on that date. Personally, I think they were acting a little superstitious, but that is just my opinion. Either way, I still ended up a Scorpio. I always knew I was born on the wrong day, I have said this my entire life, and how fitting that Halloween is right around the corner. Are you wondering now why all of this just made sense? In the end they figured out how to delay my birth until the 6th of November, but the letters didn’t mention any of that.
Since I was very young I have had a fascination with Halloween, blood, gore, and horror. To the extent that my mother had me checked out at age ten with a shrink to make sure I wasn’t on the path to being a serial killing axe murderer. Surprise, my record is still clean. And no, I did not and do not torture small animals for enjoyment, never dissected anything just for fun, and don’t condone biting the heads off of live bats. But, something both of my wives had to understand was that October and Halloween are my season which I look forward to at the end of the last. On the flip side, I kinda like Christmas too. Sometimes there is a Christmas tone in what I do for Halloween, that freaks people out a little more tho for some reason. Now I know there’s a reason I have a fondness for Halloween, it was supposed to be my birthday.
So what now? Do we do an over analysis of all of this new information? I think not, but it answers so much for me that y’all might not even begin to be able to grasp and understand. It has a certain “Wow” factor for me though, really makes me smile. I should be upset they delayed my birthday, but it is what it is after all, its over, its done, and too late to cry about it. Anyone else born on Halloween that would like to share would be cool because I’m interested in if it actually affected anything in your life. I call mine coincidence, what do you call yours?
Which reminds me, with Halloween right around the corner, I need to get my ass in high gear before the 1st of October. If I’m not ready my wife will think I’m sick or dying and the neighbors will think I’m dead. We can’t have that now can we? Yes, I will post pictures as I go. As far as choosing the mask I asked about earlier, I’m still torn, but I like the way the picture below looks, so I might give that a shot.