Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Tails Of A Bramaged Drain...

Pun's on words...

I just realised that my deliberately mispelling of words occasionally is at least one of the things that led hubby to conclude last night that I am suffering from acute alcoholic brain damage disorder and am in desperate need of a cat scan to determine the extent.

And That right there, People, is a sentence I just thought of in my brain.

It is an example of an Exact thought process.

Something I'm sure a person suffering from such an extreme and debilatating disease couldn't coherently, um, what's the word? Decipher.

So; it's Official!

I'm officially Crazy!

Hubby knows about my trips to the Psychologist Guy. All about them. Just don't ask him to tell You what he knows because he'll suddenly go all secretive and refuse to answer your questions. Even after he told me he would answer Any and All questions I had for him because he wanted to come back to this house and live here with Me and the kids. I told him (and he agreed at the time) that it was my right to be suspicious of him for a while; especially after what he had divulged to me that week. All along I was right. He did fuck Angie. Even after denying it last week. Even after stating categorically No He Did Not Fuck Angie. He wouldn't have told me unless I'd found out. Apparently even my Sister knew before I did. He told Wemmaly before he told me. He told them I knew before they did. But the Truth is I Didn't.

So I asked him questions. Very specific questions.

"So you Did fuck her?"

We were standing in the kitchen; last Saturday night. In case he can't remember.

"Did you growl her out?"

"Did she give you head?"

Because I needed to know.

No.

He Said...

Then took it back. And said Yes. Smiling like an Idiot.

She'd taken advantage of him; he thought. He said he was asleep drunk on her couch and she'd come over to Comfort him.

Don't You remember your Exact words, hubby?

Because I sure the Fuck Do.

Apparently I can't do a simple task when I am under duress...

To prove This point hubby threw an egg-ring at me last night. It was a bad throw.

But even so I caught it. Left handed.

Apparently I Used to be intelligent.

It's my contention that I still am.

Today I'll try to get my alcohol bramaged drain to remember to ask my Boss J to write me a note of Competence. I'll limp straight into her office and demand it.

Did I forget to tell You All I have four stitches in my big toe?

Because I tripped over a computer cord last Friday morning and split the mother in fucking two?

And I'm putting my shoe on Every day and going into work like a Fucking Trooper?

Funny; it was probably my bramaged drain that caused me to fall over. Sober. At seven in the morning.

No shit. It fucking hurts.

My toe didn't break.

But my heart Has...

So; he told Me that he's had Another opportunity since Then.

I asked Specific questions.

"Was it Angie?"

No. Wemmaly. He Said "She had told Twink she thought she might take her revenge on Me by sleeping with my husband." For ruining her life that is what I should get.

So I wrote her a note and stuck it under her door the next time I was at Twink's.

(And No; Wemmaly. In answer to your last text message to hubby I did Not go through your room. It's ironic though; that I found the question whilst looking through his phone, don't you think?)

"I guess we're even now. I rang Willy. You tried to fuck hubby. I did it because I loved you. I have no clue of your motivation. I thought better of you."

I admit I didn't know the full details at the time. But when we got home I asked him for them.

"Tell me about Wemmaly".

Then he did the talking and I listened.

He Said she'd flashed her gash at him on more then one occasion...

He Said that he can tell the difference between a friendly hug and one that's willing to Give More.

He Said she had a disgusting arse and that he would never fuck someone who had a heroin addiction and made their living as a prostitute.

And Those words my Friends; are about as Verbatim as I can get on a page.

Pretty good for Someone with Drain Bramage...

Dontcha Fink?

5 comments:

Grump said...

RN you are always coherent to me. Love reading your blog, one of the first I seek out each day. I thought from your news flash blog and previous posts here that you had finished with hubby. Is he back living with you again? I expect the shit to hit the fan over your hubby's quoted remarks about Wemmaly's arse.
Ha Ha.
Cheers Mark x

Grump said...

Sorry forgot to wish you all the best with the cut toe. I hope it stops hurting soon.
M x

Miss Understood said...

I think being with Hubby is like being lost with him right in the middle of a very dense forest. You can't see the light. Can't get out. You keep going round and round and round in circles, bashing each other on the head with branches.

You need to get out, Buffoon. And then, when you've been out for a while and have felt all that beautiful sunlight on your face, you may feel brave enough to go walking in that forest again with him. But I'm sure you'd only safely walk around the perimeter and not get yourself lost again.

God. Make me stop doing this, will you? All week I've been thinking in bloody metaphors. I could give you another one which involves a desert and an oasis, but you may need a sick bucket.

Take Care, won't you? And rest that foot. x

~*~KRITTER~*~ said...

Hey sexy, just checking in. How you been going over all. Mum told me about your toe, ha ha ha good on ya. Anyway see you sunday for m baby shower, going for drinks later i'm keen.
Luv ya KRITTER

Miss Construed... said...

Hi All

Grump; he's coming and going as it suits him. As long as I toe the line he'll stay.

Guess I should start putting my foot down.

The stitches come out Friday' thanks for asking.

Miss; I'm going to have to change blogs somewhere along the line. This is all becoming too crazy. Even for me. I'll email you my new blogspot when it happens.

Kritter; Always keen for a drink. Can't wait til Sunday arvo. But I hope BOB does. No one wants the baby at the baby shower!