The art of dating when you are in your 40’s is a perilous, soul destroying mission. I blame my misfortune with men on the 'fairy tale factor'... That never ending belief that love conquers all and that one day a prince will come.
Reality isn't even close to the fairy tale. Especially when the prince doesn’t just come with baggage – he comes with a bitter, money grubbing ex-wife clinging to his back like a hump.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Dredilocks and the fearful Moodle...
The idiot that I live with doesn't get what I mean when I
tell him it’s time to ‘man up’; ‘nut up’; shut her down already. She’s horrible! And
attempting to explain it to him is a thankless expedition into the mind of a
simpleton. He can’t understand what I
mean when I say “Jesus! Would you stop
Moodling around and tell her to get stuffed like 99% of the rest of humanity
would in your position!
orders! Abuse! Demands!”
Last night, while attempting to give him the ‘shut her down
or I will’ discussion, I explained it in as simple terms as possible.
Hell, if I’d have had to dumb it down anymore, it would have
started with “Once upon a time, there was a tiny, scared little bear named “the
Moodle”. He lived in fear of the hideous, evil velvet
wearer named Dredilocks – with her red-back infested hair…” I’m sure you get my drift.
Instead, I merely said “just say Saturday morning rolls
around and I get a string of text message demands from some guy – and I’m
actually stupid enough to jump to those orders – how would you feel..?” I think he got my drift, but probably not enough to nut up.
Below, is Saturday mornings treat – before he went to
cricket and copped the live version…