It’s once again another entry in the “Shit I Learn” series.
Check out these other “Shit I Learn” classics!
Kid Vomiting Edition
Collect them all! Amaze your friends! Be more sexy!
You know, you figure that if I’d learned so much…
…I’d have a better job than “Transgender Prostitute to the Stars.”
Catchy name, though.
Keannu Reeves is much shorter in person.
Keep that on the down low.
Today’s episode:
The Shit I Learn: Marriage Edition
(just in case the giant fucking title at the top didn’t give it away)
This is where I try to educate the masses (my 4 readers) on the stuff I’ve learned through my vast experiences.
When I say, “vast” I mean “not many.”
I hated English class.
Here goes…the Shit I Learn: Marriage Edition:
1) NEVER EVER EVER Under Any Circumstance is a Coffee Maker EVER a Good Gift for your Wife. EVER.
What?
We needed a coffee maker.
It wasn’t all bad. I think I got her a card to go with it.
I sometimes still pay for this.
Me: “Hey…wanna…wanna go upstairs?”
* sexyfied wink
Wife: “Excuse me? You’re kidding, right? You bought me a fucking coffee maker.”
Me: “THREE YEARS AGO!”
Guys, if a woman ever says:
Wife: “Honey, for my birthday, PLEASE buy me a coffee maker. If you don’t buy me a coffee maker I will never have sex with you ever again.”
TRAP.
You’ve been warned.
2) Get a comfy couch
This is especially important if, for some reason, you ignored my advice and got her a fucking coffee maker for her birthday.
Jackass.
Told ya.
Just get a comfy couch.
At some point you WILL end up sleeping on the goddamn thing.
Whether it’s because of a fight…
(seriously…all I wanted to know is if she wanted pizza or Chinese food and somehow I’m on the fucking sofa now!? WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?)
..or because you snore…
(I have two-inch deep footprints permanently implanted in my lower back because of this)
…you’ll find yourself on the couch watching Cinemax porn and whacking off at 3 in the morning.
I mean…um…
…sleeping.
You’ll be sleeping on the couch.
One more thing, guys:
When couch shopping, DON’T give in and get the fucking down throw pillows with the couch.
My kids’ favorite pastime is pulling out all the fucking feathers sticking out of the goddamn pillows.
I should probably get them into sports or some shit.
3) The Longer You’re Married, the Less You Can Get Away with Looking at Other Boobs
Once upon a time, my wife and I would be walking through the mall when…
…you’d hear them…
GADOOSH
GADOOSH
GADOOSH
Heading right at you…
Giant boobies.
Back in the day, I’d do the whole “I’m looking at the ceiling” bullshit that guys sometimes have to do.
Wife: “Did you see those?”
Me: “Huh? No…What? I was admiring the Roman inspired ceiling architecture.”
Wife: “Well, you just missed out on a huge set of boobies.”
Me: “DADGUMMIT! That just burns my britches!”
Back then I idolized Wilford Brimley.
Nowadays, though…it’s like this:
GADOOSH
GADOOSH
GADOOSH
And there I stand.
With unblinking giant googly eyes.
Wife: “That’s nice. I can’t believe you. You’re really fucking unbelievable.”
Ugh.
Couch, guys.
Get a comfy couch.
You’re welcome.
Mental Poo 