Come tell us the little things your normally, totally beloved partner(s) do(es) that drives you nuckin’ futs!

Homey does this thing where he choose the absolute worst fucking time to start stupid projects.

Like, I will tell him, “Dinner will be ready in five minutes!” and then he chooses to turn off his video game and pick up a hammer.

Today, we got a call from the plumber saying he’d be to our place in ten minutes. Eight minutes later, I hear “Help! Help!” from the kitchen. I start to walk into the kitchen (which, bee tee dubs, the plumber has to walk through to get to the basement for the plumbing job), and the plumber’s pulling into the driveway.


I get into the kitchen and Homey’s chosen to start a repair job on the ceiling fan when he knows the fucking plumber’s coming over in less than 2 minutes. (P.S. the frickin’ fan’s been broken for a couple weeks. Why it’s suddenly an emergency that needs to be taken care of right now is beyond a mystery to me.)

I just stood there and was like, “What are you doing?! The plumber’s here! Why did you start this now?!”


Homey, holding all kinds of fan and light pieces above his head, looking at me all bewildered: “I don’t get why you’re angry.”

This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.



If this was a one time thing and not, like, a daily thing, ok. But goddam, man! Pick better times!!


How about y’all?