I love dating

[stu]

And this is why.....

http://www.mil-millington.com/

[JL LGT]

Can I get the Cliff's Notes to that shit! Dayum that's long!

You didn't actually read through all of that....did you Stu?

[stu]

I'm trying to, I'm about a 7th of the way through. ;)

[stu]

Here are some of my favorites:

* A Few Concepts Margret Continues To Have Trouble Assimilating:

1. It's possible to stop buying plants.
2. Can you please leave me alone, I'm on the lavatory.
3. Ikea is just another shop.
4. I asked you if you wanted any, I asked you - now stop eating it off my plate.
5. One may have a thought and not say it. This does not make me insular, it merely separates me from you and that mad woman who's always shouting at the pigeons outside the supermarket.
6. They're just nail clippings. Nail clippings must be the most inert thing on the planet, how can anyone seriously have a problem with nail clippings? You might as well freak out with, 'Bleuuuurrggh - helium!' Really - just get a hold of yourself. So you've walked barefoot across the bathroom and you find this has resulted in a nail clipping or two sticking to the bottom of your foot; well, simply brush them off into the bin - they're just nail clippings.

Margret's four-hundred-and-fifty-second most annoying habit is to stealthily turn off the central heating (then light the gas fire in the room she's in, natch). I'll suddenly notice that, sitting typing at the keyboard, I can see my own breath while from the bedroom one of the kids will call out, 'Papa, I can't feel my legs...' And I'll shiver down the stairs to find the central heating set to 'Summer/Hypothermia/Cryogenic Suspension,' and Margret in the living room watching the TV in a door frame warping furnace.

"'I'm nearly there.' Yeah. Right."

[stu]

Haha

When I'm driving the car, Margret reaches across and operates the indicator. How annoying is that, ladies and gentlemen? At the distance from the turn that she considers to be appropriate, she'll lean over and flick the indicator lever on. Be honest now, would any one of you prefer to be in a car with someone who did that over, say, being trapped under rubble for four days with a person who writes the verses for greetings cards? It's rumoured, in fact, that certain people are working on the Being In A Car With Margret Experience so that it can be recreated in the punishment wing of Alabama jails.
That's not to say that she's a bad driver. She's a better driver than I am, certainly. But a better driver in, um, well, by the 'male' definition of better, let's say. If we were in a rally, Margret would leave me in the dust. She is never more alive than when reversing into a tight space. Gears matter to her. However, I've only had one crash, and that was indisputably not my fault (someone drove through a red light into the side of me). Margret has hit countless things. Hit them in England. Hit them in Germany. (I was in a car with Margret in Germany once, when she'd been back and forth between there and England quite frequently. She's racing along the centre of a country road. A car appears heading straight for us, and Margret shouts at me, 'Which side should I be on!?' A nice moment. If I'd been out to score points I'd have remarked that, if you're asking that question, then perhaps slowing down at all might be a thing to do also. I didn't say anything, however, as at that point I was busy finding religion.) Margret has hit stationary things - bollards, a public electricity exchange, walls - and moving things - other cars, an ambulance. (Yes, 'honestly'.) One time we hired a car to drive up to Scotland. Margret doesn't so much ignore speed limits as have trouble with them conceptually - 'What? There's a speed limit here too?' She drove from Birmingham to Carlisle (about 200 miles) flat out. And I mean 'flat' 'out', her foot was on the floor the whole way. The hire company obviously expected their cars to be driven by the sane, and it just couldn't cope. The temperature gauge strained against the end of the scale and Margret eventually pulled over to let it cool down for a few minutes. But the wind coming through the radiator grille due to our forward motion was the only thing that had kept it going. When she pulled over every single electrical wire in the engine melted away. Fortunately, there was rescue cover so we were picked up and given a replacement car. Margret, clearly humbled, said, 'Oh brill! This one's got a cassette player!'
So, Margret's a better driver than I am, and a better map reader too, incidentally. I get there eventually and can operate my own indicators, thanks very much... but I am, sadly, far less likely to make my fortune endorsing airbags.

[stu]

I love how he keeps ripping on Californians. Oh yeah, after about 2.5 hours I'm half way through.

We had an earthquake here the other week. Surprisingly, I'm not being metaphorical. I mean we had an actual earthquake: in the geological rather than the emotional sense. It happened at about one o'clock in the morning, we were pretty close to the epicentre, and it was 4.8 on the Richter scale. Now, I'm depressingly aware that all you Californians are right now glancing up from your crystals and pausing mid-mantra to snort, '4.8? Poh. That's not an earthquake, that's just someone slamming a door.' Well, yes, I suppose it's all relative, but here in England where tectonics is less brash and showy, 4.8 is easily vulgar enough to stand out.
The important thing is that just before 1 A.M. the whole house shook. Naturally, this woke us up. Cupboards rattled and banged, furniture shivered across the floor, the bed struggled like it was possessed by the spirit of a wild animal that was trying to get out. The instant it ended, Margret's freshly woken face slid in front of me. Her voice irritated and her eyes accusatively thin, she hissed, 'Was that you?'

[Kwando]

ok... that is long and a waste of my time

[stu]

But you'll read it. For the record though, it's NOT a waste of your time as it is both hilarious and educational at the same time/

[jdm95integra]

lol. that shit is great

[Aracheon]

The humour is the only thing that's keeping me reading.

[stu]

The humour is the only thing that's keeping me reading.


As opposed to what?

Anyway, another favorite:

I'm not even going to try to dissect this. Why tie up both our mornings on a futile hunt for understanding, eh? I'm surely not going to be able to pick out anything - my searching fingers are now too callused, from running them along Margret's reasoning in an attempt to identify the scar where it's been imperfectly welded to reality. So, here we go, then.
I shuffle into the living room. It's first thing in the morning; I'm still in my night clothes, the children are circle-eyed and oval-mouthed - their faces distorted by the gravitational pull of the television screen - Margret is opening some post. I flop down on to the sofa.
Margret glances over at me. 'Have you got butter in your ear?' she asks, casually, before returning to her letters.
Briefly, I wonder if this is dream... too close to call, I decide - may as well just press on regardless.
I reach up and touch the side of my head. My finger returns with some shaving foam.
'It's shaving foam,' I reply.
Without looking up, Margret nods. 'Oh, right. It's so early - I didn't think you'd had time for a shave already.'
She thinks it's too early for me to have had a shave, everyone, yet easily late enough for me to have butter in my ear.
Move along, now. Nothing more to see here.

[chris_venturini]

this is one of my favorites, probably because i know this type of situation all too well....

Margret flooded the kitchen last week. Turned the taps on, put the plug in the sink, and utterly forgot about it (because she'd come upstairs and we'd got involved in an unrelated argument). She goes back downstairs, opens the door and - whoosh - it's Sea World. The interesting thing about this is, if I'd flooded the kitchen, it would have been a bellowing, 'You've flooded the kitchen, you idiot!' and then she'd have done that thing where I curl up in a ball, trying to protect my head, and she kicks me repeatedly in the kidneys. As it was, however, there's a shout, I run downstairs and stand for a beat in the doorway - taking in the scene, waves lapping gently at my ankles - and she turns round and roars, 'Well, help me then - can't you see I've flooded the kitchen, you idiot?'

[Weston-work]

:rofl:

[InRox01]

Thats pretty funny.

[doctorstupid]

I haven't seent hat in a looooonnngg time, as I recall I did in fact read the whole damned thing. That bitch is crazy!

[JL LGT]

Going from what Stu posted.....I'm guessing it's kind of a good thing I'm not attractive enough for most women to consider dating.

[stu]

No no, you misunderstood. While this is hilariously crazy, it is a good part of dating as far as I'm concerned.

Plus, you don't have to be attractive to date, in fact, it can be just as bad if you are. Look at me for example. I'm super fucking hot, and I get dumped all the time!