Ojo Rojo

I wish I was.

I went home for lunch and pulled in the trash can and recycle bin. Wife hears me and comes out and tells me to leave them outside the gate because the service she hired to clean them is coming today. She hired a company to clean the inside of our trash cans. To clean the inside of trash cans. Trash cans. I admit that every now and then if some putrid shit leaks inside of them they can stink, but they are outside and that situation is rare. I dared not ask how much they charged for this "service."

Everything is always on me, because I could always swoop in and prevent or fix whatever fucked up shit my wife does. But I shouldn't have to. An actual capable partner with any wits should be capable of making a simple fucking decision and carrying out a simple task toward a known goal.

What would you call a sausage, roughly the same size as a hot dog, in an elongated piece of bread with mustard and relish? There's really no reason for anyone to eat an actual disgusting hot dog. It barely qualifies as food. I've been substituting sausages for hot dogs for years.

We were planning our Memorial Day last week and I told her that all I really wanted to do was grill some burgers or hot dogs in the backyard and swim in the pool as a family. I basically work 16 hour days and I was out of town Saturday and Sunday, which means that I don't have time to do any of the prep work and it falls on her. So yesterday morning she's running through the day's schedule, which includes her getting a massage (since I was gone the two previous days) and picking up and dropping off our oldest for a play date. She asks me what I want to grill and I told her again "burgers and/or hot dogs." She must have gone to the grocery store 5 times last week and didn't pick up the shit we needed for grilling. I think I threw her off with the and/or thing. Not specific enough. So I finally tell her, "Okay, hot dogs, but not the Oscar Meyer bullshit - let's get some kind of sausages." She fucks around most of the day and then it's like 4 o'clock, time to get in the pool and she has to go to the grocery store. Except it's not the grocery store that is five minutes from our house; it's the fancy grocery store that is 20 minutes from our house. She's gone like an hour and a half. By the time she gets back the kids are tired of swimming and grumpy because they are hungry. I drank four beers while I grilled the sausages.

I saw a documentary or interview on Earl Campbell once and it was talking about his wife and marriage. It might have actually been his wife talking. Anyway, she said anytime things would get tense between them or there was a potential argument he would just walk outside and stay away for a while. She said he never participated in an argument with her. I'm thinking about trying it. I'm one to get things out in the open and deal with them and resolve them and move on, but going through the process doesn't work with my wife anyway, so why even try?

Yeah, I'm considered the asshole in our relationship, yet I say "I'm sorry" and "I was wrong" regularly. That "walking home" strategy is interesting. Wouldn't work with my wife though. She would actually allow me to start walking home and would pick me up. She'd call my bluff.

Same. I thought it was going to be cool, but it ended up being kind of weak.

Fucking millenials.

We were at an end of the season party for my son's baseball team yesterday evening. Party ran from 6-8. I had told my wife before going to the party that I wanted to go for a run after the party, so I didn't want to stay past 8. So the party is winding down; a couple of families have already left. It's like 7:50. I told my wife I was ready to leave, which I thought meant "Please help me pack up our three kids and all of the shit you brought with us and get in the car and leave this place for our own home." What my wife must have heard was, "Please socialize with the other parents for another 15 minutes as you (very) slowly make your way inside the house where your husband has corralled your three kids and staged all of your belongings for departure." So I'm watching her through the window meander through the crowd and laugh and talk and I'm getting more and more steamed that she is showing zero urgency. She finally comes inside (this was an outdoor party, mostly) and sees me trying to keep my kids from melting down as they just sit there with me waiting for her. We leave. We get home and I get the kids settled and I'm about to go change into my running clothes when I hear her say, "Oh, shit" or something like that. I can tell she's agitated. So I'm like, "What's the deal?" She says she can't find her phone, that it was with a pile of other shit we had taken to the party. I dial her phone and it's nowhere. I ask her if she left it at the party. She's pretty sure she did. So I tell her to go get the motherfucker. I stay home with the three kids waiting for her to get back. By the time she gets back it's 9:22. I crack a beer. She asks me if I'm going for a run. I tell her that ship sailed when she had to retrieve her phone. She says, "Well I wouldn't have left my phone if you hadn't rushed me out of the party like that." Sometimes the thought of living completely alone sounds like heaven.

For clarity the SIV virus was most likely transferred to humans by eating infected bush meat. Then the ass fucking. Well that's not what Dave Chappelle said.

The liquor store closest to my house gives you a QP lottery ticket with any purchase over $50. I was a bit bummed last night to see that Wednesday's drawing has an estimated cash value option worth only $3.43M. So you'd get to keep about $2M after taxes. That ain't "fuck you" money, by any means. Not even enough to retire comfortably. I'd worry less if I won that amount of money, but I'd still go to work every day and basically nothing would change.

AIDS came from people fucking monkeys in Africa. It was propagated among humans, in part, from dudes fucking each other in the ass.

First season in the books. Absolutely loved it. Can't wait for next season. I just love being out at the ball field - just a pure experience. Watching my kid play ball was a lot more exciting and enjoyable than I thought it would be. We did Timbergrove Sports Ass'n in Houston. My kid is 7 and they have 7-8 y.o. coach pitch. My boy is small - he was the smallest kid on his team - but he's fast and he has unlimited confidence. He was drafted in the last round, I think, because none of the coaches knew anything about him. Ended up getting drafted by a coach that had him in basketball a couple of years ago who remembered him. Worked out great. Coach and his dad have been doing it a long time and they were great. My son did well - he made contact almost every at bat and reached base probably 75% of the time. His fielding wasn't very good even though I worked with him a lot before the season started. He had a couple of put outs though. We had a really good team. Some bigger kids who could really hit. We scored the most runs in the league, but we also allowed a lot of runs because we weren't so good on defense. Regular season record was 7-2-1 and made the 8-team playoff as the four seed in our division against the one seed. We were smoking the other team in the first few innings, but I think the kids thought they had it in the bag (the coaches and parents did too) and relaxed and things went to shit. Ended up losing on the last at bat. But it was a great season all in all. TSA is really well organized and well-run. The people have their priorities straight. They make it clear that it's not all about winning. I didn't see any coach or parent misbehavior at all. The umpires were terrible and made some really bad calls, but the coaches just let it go most of the time. Or, they'd confer with the ump and the other team's coach and try to work it out. They did have a rule that you could score a maximum of 5 runs per inning. I think it was unlimited in the final inning. That totally changed the game, but I understand why they do it. All in all a great experience.

According to my dad, my mom is like this. Not even hotels. Home or nothing. I used to be a lot more like this. I NEVER took a crap at school in twelve years except one time when I had explosive diarrhea. And then I hovered and got watery shit all over the toilet, wall and floor. Man I felt sorry for the cleaning lady. Since then I've branched out. Still won't sit on a nasty public toilet though.

I'm sorry, I don't like food on my plate that is still alive.

Is that where you just burn your clothes after wearing them?

One of the best things about this thread is that it makes me feel no so alone. Almost exact thing here, except my wife put a pair of my expensive technical board shorts in the dryer with the drawstring hanging out of the door. Twisted it up all to fuck. I bitched about it and evermore I have done all my own laundry.

No. He's mad because she only left two bites. It's the same as the last swallow of orange juice deal.

I didn't know they had a New Jersey in Ireland.

I think you meant gay man. They have better design sense than dykes, if I have my stereotypes right. Anyway, not liking wall colors classifies as gay these days? Tough crowd.

This is going to give me nightmares.

That's a whole other topic. When we moved into our new house in November she didn't like the paint color of a couple of the rooms. I didn't like it either. She picked out the new color and the seller agreed to have a painter repaint those rooms. Now she doesn't like the color she picked (I don't either) and has said numerous times how we have to repaint it.

Similar. Wife lets two year old run around the entire house with some melty chocolatey food item in his hands. I get home and see brown streaks all over the furniture and walls. She acts like the situation was impossible to predict or prevent.

I'm sorry, but if a goose attacks me I'm standing my ground. What are they going to do? That bill can't do any damage. They have no spurs or anything. I'll slap the shit out of a goose that tries any shit with me.