Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Old Blog...New Place

I wrote this blog a while back on Myspace. The majority of the "friends" on my list (cause I only have 43) are actually family members. I placed their comments too. The first comment is my husband's cousin Cyndi, the second response is mine, and the third is my husband's sister (my sister in law).

This one has always been my favorate blog cause I was really pissy about the situation. So I thought I'd share it.

Okay...for all of you who are my family, you know I love my husband and you know exactly how he is. But what you don't know...
At night, when it's time to go to bed. There is a battle going on all the time. Not between me and him exactly cause he is usually knocked out as soon as his head hits the pillow but between me and those talons he calls toe nails. I have asked him numerous times to trim those bad boys and I have even threatened to bind his feet like those little old oriental ladies. But noooo, his lazy ass won't tame them. He claims he can't find any clippers. What he fails to realize is that those claws are beyond clippers. He now needs some hedge trimmers. I even asked him to put on some socks but since he radiates heat he would be too uncomfortable....god forbid.
Everytime I get into bed, I lay there anticipating any movement from him. I keep picturing that scene from Child's Play or Pet Cemetary (I can't remember which) where that man gets his achilles tendons sliced by that scary ass friggin doll and he can't walk. Or I imagine myself waking with a club foot.
At the moment, this is my biggest problem. Once this is taken care of...I can go back to the usual battles of being elbowed in the head or kneed in the back...ground and pound. I may come out with a few bumps and bruises but at least then I have a chance.

First Response:
lol. too funny. trim 'em for him when he's passed out!

Second Response:
Are you kidding me! It's bad enough when he trims them himself they fly all over the carpet and become land mines. I just don't think I have enough protective equipment to be doing that kind of labor. Goggles....Bomb suit.....naw, I'll pass.

Third Response:
Okay girl, FIRST OF ALL, you've got some balls to get on this myspace deal and even TALK about nasty crustations lurking in your sheets!!! LMAO I would tell you to get his ass to Progresso so that they can give him a pedicure (cause God knows that they have to see, touch and deal with worse feet) but I can't even get Steve to sit down with his nasty claws. I don't see why they act like they've got shame and they don't want other people to put the saw and file to their toes when we have to look at their nasty feet EVERY DAY! I say we get em' nice and drunk and get them BOTH to do it together. Monkey see, monkey do. Besides, with all this nonsense talk about the unmentional club of theirs, we should comment to them that THEY CAN'T CATCH FUCKING SHARKS WHEN THE FISH WONT EVEN COME NEAR THEIR FEET!!!! PEACE!