Okay...let me catch you up...
It started really Fourth of July Weekend....My husband's family came in for a visit for the first time in many, many years. It was fantastic, and no sarcasm intended..truly a great week. My husband and his one brother hadn't really kept in great touch over the years because my husband can be a real douche when it comes to the phone...they never had an issue besides Charlie's laziness to pick up the phone, and literally he would speak to his brother once a year on his birthday, he hates the phone...but now his brother is here and they are "re"-bonding and loving it...they decide to go to the store and pick up a new video game...side bar...my husband is a freak when it comes to a video game, grade A freak...he gets really into his game and I truly believe he believes he is there and the game situation is real to him and he just starts acting all sorts of schitzo when he plays and this pretty much drives me batty..it'd be one thing if he was just playing, but the seriousness he has when playing gets to be ridiculous!, but I digress...back to the story....So they go to the store and his brother generously buys him a new Tiger Woods game and the new sensor thingy to make it work better or whateva the fuck it does....they come home and proceed to play this game for the rest of the week...which , really, at this point is not a problem..they are bonding and we are all having a great time sitting around and just basically fucking off doing nothing,...the perfect vakay if you ask me. The problem starts when the family leaves.....Now everyone is gone and it's down to just Chuck and Tiger....he is now addicted to this game and begins to play it every waking moment he has because he can never ever just play a game for fun, he has to beat the game or go crazy trying..but he doesn't just play it like it's a game....NOPE...He PLAYS it like he is on the 9th hole of a PGA Tour...and he lines up his shot and puts a back swing on the ball (or something like that) he gets real serious...don't talk to him when he is lining up his shot or God for friggin bid you walk past the tv screen you fucking idiot what the fuck did you do that for you just fuck up my swing...yeah and to top it off there are announcers on the game..and they are big fucking meanies and they are egging this man on saying shit like "Oh That's not a good shot at all, what was he thinking", so now for the last few weeks he is golfing in my living room day and night screaming at the tv screen to "Lick my balls you fucking bitch" and kicking shit over when he fucks up or when he is doing good he is tweeting like a bird, cuz apparently getting a "birdie" is a great thing..and he is always yelling out to me, while I am no where near him..."Oh Man, did you see that shot?" "Baby I was robbed...did you see?"...ummm, no...contrary to what I tell my kids I don NOT have eyes on the back or the side of my head and frankly I hate golf and am not watching you....So at this point, I am really starting to hate this game..but the man asks for nothing...he works his ass off..he deserves to golf, I just wish he would do it quietly, isn't golf a quiet game anyway? Last week his brother was generous again...back in Tennessee he goes to the store and picks up another 2 copies of Tiger Woods and sends them to his brothers so now all three of them can play this game online against each other while talking on speaker phone til the wee hours of night..."oh wow..did you see that shot"....fun times.
Yesterday was a crazy day...my kids were little deviants! After driving me crazy all day, they went outside after the rain..I told them they could go across the street to the house that is in my sight..they said okay...10 minutes later I see them in my back yard and they come in and tell me no one wanted to play...they went across the street and asked and down the block... "Wait, what the fuck did you just say? you went down the block? I thought I told you you couldn't walk down the friggin block with out telling me or asking me? You can't just walk around the fucking town like you own.." Rrrrriiiiinnnngggg..."Hello?" ..."Um yes, Hi...it's Hoosie Whatsie from around the block...we have a little problem"..."Yeah, what kind of problem?" ..."Well..this year I have been noticing a bunch of rocks at the bottom of my pool and I keep yelling at my kids for throwing rocks in there when they know I just spent $1000 on a new liner and they keep telling me they aren't doing it...I was just sitting in the pool and a rock came flying over your fence and hit me in the head and I heard your girls run away"...."Say no more...I am so sorry..It'll never happen again, I promise...any damage, please come see us"....I turn around and proceed to go OFF for quite sometime actually...yelling and screaming and threatening and I just can not believe what little deviants I am raising and where the fuck did I go so horribly wrong?...when the hubby comes home we are co parenting at it's finest..we are totally on the same page, in sync and getting our point across...we rocked that punishment! The kids were all in bed early and not only were they in bed, but they were asleep!!! So the hubster and I decide to have some "us" time..we deserved it..look at how on the money we were tonight....feels like we bonded...even if it was over screaming and belittling our children...we were one tonight ...and I gotta tell ya honestly...I was feeling a little frisky!! Yes, let's hang out...."I'm gonna go change into my pjs ..be right back"...I change into my boobie lifting tank that he likes....now yes, I am a chubster..but when it comes to my man, I'm Angelina Freakin Jolie and I ignore my physical and get into my head and rrroarrr I'm one sexy bitch! So I come out of the room wearing my "sexy shirt" and giving him my "sexy eyes" and he says..."Wanna golf?" "Do I wanna GOLF?, umm is that what you really wanna do?" "Yes, I want you to do something that I am interested in...you make me watch all your fucking shows with you..golf with me"...what choice do I really have when he puts it like that? "Okay...let's g o l f !" Can I just tell you....I may be Angelina in my head but the physical reality is more like Barney Rubble sporting some DD's!...so he sets up this fucking game and he hands me the remote and tells me to set up my player...can I just tell you...he spent 3 hours one night setting up his player..picking out his nose and hair and chest size and they really make the game look as real as possible and he is dead set on having his "avatar" look as much like him as possible and he now wants mine to look like me...but unless Winonna Judd is a choice on there..it ain't happening!...but I try. It's driving me crazy the go through every fucking detail imaginable...like the width of the eyebrow, lift of the tip of the nose..COME THE FUCK ON ALREADY and lets fucking play so I can get laid....So we start to play..he grabs his remote looks at me points and says "Pig"....and I am horrified.."Fuck you!" ..."NOOO...pig" and he points to the floor and he has set up my ceramic pig on the floor as a marker, a tee if you will, for me to have a visual and hit better...."Stand by the pig, it's the best place to get the best shot"... "Great, standing by the pig"...So I am standing there and I am trying to hit the ball...boobies...they are not great for golf and either is my perma-preg stomach, I look like I am eternally expecting...I am bending over and trying to see the fucking pig which I can't unless I bend waaay over ...and he is telling me "Keep your eye on the pig, just turn your arms, not your body...just your arms and swing...you don't need to twist your whole body...Babe, just your arms..your arms Babe...just your arms you don't need to bend like that Babe...use your arms"....If you say use my arms one more fucking time, you skinny fuck..I'm gonna shove this controller right the fuck up your asshole sideways...is what I was thinking...but I say.."Babe" and then start to cry "I am too fucking big to swing my arms without moving my body and I can't see the fucking pig and I hate this game." "Oh stop, I'm sorry...come on...let's play"...Well I don't know about you, but I have no clue what the game of golf is all about...nor do I care...I am just "playing" cuz I am hanging with my man trying to get some.... so I am trying to be all sexified and squeeze my cleavage a little more while he is telling me how to play...I am thinking great opportunity for him to have a Patrick Swayze moment and "show" me how to stand and hold the "club"..but, umm, nope..he, in great detail, tells me what all the different symbols mean and how far back I need to put that circle thing and what club I should use and yadda yadda yadda...and I am truly trying my best...I don't think Barney Rubble golfed, do you? I am getting frustrated trying to use the correct stance and the fact my body won't let me is bringing me to the brink....and there he stands lining up his shot...asshole...He keeps telling me."you are okay, it's your fist time...you'll figure it out"...Figure it out?!!! it's a fucking wii game...maybe that's what I have to figure out...That I am not on a golf course...so the next time I'm up I hold the controller in one hand, fuck the pig..bring my arm back and swing and swooosh....right next to the fucking pin...like a hair away from a hole in one!!! he says "That's not the way you are supposed to hold it, it's not true golfing" "No shit Sherlock...it's wii!"....from that shot on I kept using my one handed method and shockingly I was good at it...caught right the fuck up to him and at one point I was doing better than him!!! Funny what happens when you start playing the game the way it was meant..like a fucking V I D E O G A M E !!! I ended up being "2 over par" for the entire game...that is good, actually for the fist time and after hearing all the nasty games the Husband has played...2 under par is fucking fantastic!! So now, Brad...let's go to bed **wink, wink** ...I go into the room and get myself all situated waiting for him, finally gonna get me some....he is doing his before bed ritual stuff....I am so fucking tired from yelling and screaming at the deviants and then playing golf that 5 minutes after I lay on my pillow I can barely stay awake...the last thing I remember is him coming into bed and grabbing my boob...then it's 7:30 and Grace is whispering into my ear "Ma it's my birthday...I am 5.....do you want to say something?" I try to flip my now petrified and screaming body and I say "Yes Grace...Tiger Woods is a twat"
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