Home Time


After enduring/enjoying my first 10 day paid vacation, or “staycation” is a better word, I am sitting in my semi-truck again, reflecting on why I am in such a good mood.

It wasn’t the hot, animal murder sex….

It wasn’t being ravaged by a drunken Viking aka the “Wife”.

It wasn’t the all-night combat for pillow and blanket domination….

It’s hard to beat her in these nocturnal jousts.

She tucks her head under the blankets and disappears, POOF!

You couldn’t find her with a bio chip!

It’s weird how when we wake up in the morning, our bed always looks like a tossed salad.


She’s so beautiful in the morning….her little Hobbit feet poking out from under the blankets, there might even be a sock on one, usually a footie, the kind with a little fuzzy ball on the heel.

So cute…

You may even see a hand sticking out, now and then, or maybe even a shock of blonde hair poking out in every direction from under 3 or 4 pillows that she has robbed her loving husband of during his slumber.

Danger zone
Danger zone

….and then, there’s the smell….

My wife smells like a German butcher that works at a land-fill, when she sleeps I mean…

When she relaxes….she r-e-l-a-x-e-s…..if you get my drift.

It wasn’t the occasional hot breakfast, the lotion she rubbed on my feet, sitting with me at the dentist AND emergency room, and it wasn’t being completely sober, on purpose I might add, although now that I recall, I never once even thought about an alcoholic escape from reality.

She's already looking for the insurance papers... sadly, the patient made it.
She’s already looking for the insurance papers…
sadly, the patient made it.



Oh, quick note: I hate all 14 year old girls aka “my step daughter”.

I do not understand her.

I love her, but I could kill her.

I hug her, but I want to choke her.

I get mad when she gets back late from anywhere, but I’d hide her body in a forest.

I don’t want her to date until she is 30 years old, but sometimes I hope someone will kidnap her.

If any of you reading this are taking me seriously, kiss my butt.

If she wasn’t so pretty and smart, and had lots of potential for the future, well….I’d just have to beat the hell out of her.

You women are weird when you’re a teenager….

Teenage guys are simple to understand.

A)      What’s for supper?

B)      What’s on TV?

C)      What can I stick my pecker in?

D)     What can I stick my pecker in?

Not necessarily in that order either…


I remember when I could get a boner just by standing downwind from a girl.

I remember when I could get a “stiffie” watching my 7th grade teacher write on the chalk-board (Grrrrr)

I remember when I could cut diamonds with my “morning wood”

I remember when a cat couldn’t scratch “Mr. Happy”….

Oh….the memories….

See….boys are easy (Literally)

Throw them a can of tuna fish and a ziploc baggie and they’re happy.

I’m sorry, that was gross….

; P

Too many women in my house…

The ongoing dilemma between the wife and the step-girl right now is correct bra size….

How big is 34C?

The only measurement for a woman, I am aware of, is 36-24-36…which happen to be the same dimensions for a brick house.

How can a woman be sexy shaped like a triangular house?

I don’t see what the big deal is.

I have bigger boobs than either one of them and I don’t wear a bra….

Oh, my step-chump has red, pink and blonde hair this week….Just thought I’d throw that out there.


My staycation was great.

I got to know the wife again.

I got to “wonder” about the step-punk again.

I got to bitch and moan about lot’s of trivial stuff, it was awesome!

a)      Putting the toilet seat back down

b)      No bacon

c)       Putting my high dollar knives in the common knife drawer (I HATE that!!!!)

d)      No ice

e)      Girl stuff in MY shower

That’s just a few I can think of just now.

This is what happens when eggs piss me off... Think about it
This is what happens when eggs piss me off…
Think about it

Let’s just say that I am kind of a nagging bitch when I am home.

I couldn’t be married to me….

I am an aggravating ass.

Well, the wifey-poo uses much more colorful terminology, but I don’t speak “Russian convict”.

When you put a morning person and a non-morning person into the same bed, it has it’s….difficulties.

The wife says it is gets old when I’m always sticking my finger in her nose, butt, ears, mouth (when it’s gaping, I can’t help myself)

I see her open mouth….snores coming out of it….and I just lose control.

I HAVE to stick my finger in her open gob, swish it around and cry “slobba, slobba, slobba!”

She says it pisses her off….I laugh like hell.

Then, there’s her butt poking out from the blankets….


I have to poke it and scream “WOO HOO!!!”

What is that smell!!?
What is that smell!!?

Good times….

She says she loves me even though I am an aggravating asshole and she wants to kill me.

Now….I’m back on the road.

Wishing I was there to aggravate her some more.

Wishing I was there to torment and plot the demise of the step-monster.

I promised her that I would find something closer to home whereas I could be there every day or every other day.

I don’t think she could stand it.

I miss my Hobbit.

Be home soon Honey Biscuit, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.

….and you better have some damn bacon in my house next time woman!

The Hobbit
The Hobbit

3 thoughts on “Home Time”

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