Aaah, Sweet Baby, Geezus. I was thinking about the reality of living with someone in shared space colliding with our fantasies of relationships.
You’re probably already sayin’, “Whoa back, Richard … there’s still time. Get your meds … or some Vodka.
“You still share space with a really wonderful person. Don’t blow it, you dumb s**t!”
Well as we say down South, “Mama din’t raise no fools.”
So if you want to walk on the edge of relationship building with me, you’ll just have to read some more.
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If you’re “married,” you exchanged some version of relationship vows. You may have written your own. Modified what was written hundreds of years earlier, or recited traditional vows.
Whatever the situation, lofty promises, expressing undying love and “forever-and-ever” living together were uttered. Nowhere was it mentioned that living with another person wasn’t like the happily ever after life of the Princess and Prince of fairy tales.
We then launched a beautiful relationship on the rocky, pot holed pathway of reality.
And, by now you realize that the Princess I live with is not matched up with a Prince.
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Round One with the Un-Prince …
Thank the pagan god of toothpaste, “Hydroxyapatite,” that several years ago a major Un-Princely debate was eliminated when toothpaste tubes changed from a lead and tin alloy to space age “plastic.”
No more could I use the line, “Name me one person who doesn’t squeeze and roll from the bottom of the tube.”
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Round Two …
Multiple bathrooms in single family houses established real detante. No longer sharing the bathroom with your Prince or Princess eliminated an “ugly stink.”
The words, “Honey, your s**t really stinks,” are no longer literal.
But if used euphemistically, they’re still grounds for the gauntlet thrown down, pistolas drawn, sabers unsheathed and the “s**t hitting the fan” … so to speak.
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The Final Round …
Yes, it’s all about reaching that age in our lives when we just can’t seem to control expelling gas from our nether regions.
It’s funny or silly when your pet farts. It’s even entertaining with a bunch of drunk guys and no females in the room.
But, when your Prince or Princess farts … it’s never funny, silly or entertaining. And, yes we all fart in spite of the avalanche of early motherly interventions.
But, this time it’s the pagan god “Propaneous” with his patented “Fart Blanket” who comes to our rescue.
And, folks, all I’ll tell you is … the “Sumb**ch” controls the “blowback” and you can get it on Amazon!
Just sayin’ …