Why the hell can't women leave the toilet seat up? Why do they have to keep spoiling our lazy manliness with their incessant whining about vacuuming and polishing. Why don't they ever want to talk about sucking and polishing the way we like to?
I am so bored with the housework debate. We bought a house a while back and it was split down the middle into two flats. I thought that this was the perfect time to kill the housework argument for good. I would live on one side. I would tile the place so I could hose it out whenever I woke up from yet another booze addled brou-haha. I would furnish it innapropriately with things that modern living magazine would sneer at - inflatable furniture in the shape of female genitalia, mooseheads, snot sculptures, beer mats, roadkill, anything to make the statement that this was a manly zone.
Meanwhile, my wife could live on the other side and wash up, vacuum, fold doilies and generally potter around while "tut tutting" to her heart's content.
We spend so much time arguing over cleaning, cooking, filing, prioritising, caring about (or the perception of not caring about) neatness, dusting and generally fretting that we don't have time to have a relationship.
We have become caretakers of our junk. I keep having dreams where the whole lot burns down. I save a small packet of photos, a case of red, a good bag of weed and a favourite t-shirt. After collecting the hefty insurance cheque, we hit the road in a junky convertible.
Free to laugh, love and fight about not fighting...
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