Advice required - Fat, Lazy Wife cont’d
Wednesday 18th June 2008.
Right, this will be a long serious rant and I will pour my heart and soul across this board, but I need some advice.
What do you do with a fat, lazy, useless wife?
I’ve been married to Mrs OH for 18 years. Eleven years ago, she announced she was up the duff, and to cut a long story short, we are now landed with four children, three of whom were born in a year (don’t ask).
I was a caring, nuturing father. I insisted that my wife did nothing but look after four babies so that I could sleep at least, whilst working 18 hours a day to pay for this all.
The children have now grown and can pretty much stand on their own two feet (11,8,8,8), yet NOTHING has changed.
She doesn’t work, spends a bastard fortune in Next, doesn’t know what a hoover, cooker, iron, broom or a bottle of toilet bleach is. A result of all of this inactivity has meant that she has inflated to the size of a sperm whale and the Post Office have issued her arse with it’s own postcode. I tried withdrawing my "husbandly duties" but this resulted in huge bills from Ann Summers for diesel powered joy sticks (happily paid mind, I have never had a penchent for humping infaltable rubber dinghies).
How do I get this useless bulk do actually DO anything? Her impersonation of getting the shopping in is to drive a brand new gas guzzling MPV (paid for by me) to the furthest Tescos she can find to buy a pint of milk, a loaf of bread, a gross of Galaxy bars and twelve copies of Best magazine. Every day.
I shop, cook, clean, iron and hoover AND CLEAN TOILETS. As well as drive 200 miles a day to work and back, spend at least ten hours a day in the office to finance all this crap. And I have to drive on the M25, which MUST count for something in Gods Great Plan.
I’d divorce the cow, but I’ll end up living in Student accomodation with bugger all whilst she strips my pay packet of anything worth having, raises my kids in a huge house (paid for by me) so filthy and dishevelled that Palestinians would turn their noses up at it and die a bitter and twisted old fart.
So gentlemen, thinking caps on. I need to sort this before I spend 20 years of my life at her majestys pleasure for stabbing a whale.
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