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R J Keefe

What a zesty, yet entirely meritorious, brew of Schadenfreude you've whipped up!

Or is it "poetic justice"?


Oh, sweet joy.

Usually you're not around to see the dick in the Hummer who cut you off get his comeuppance.

Thanks for sharing.


I just got married Saturday, and the timeliness of this doesn't go unnoticed. Thanks for the inadvertant words of advice, Outer Life Guy.


I was a changer of diapers, by choice. I do dishes and clean. We generaly share everything equally, including the chores. No cleaning people meet my wife's standards so were stuck with it ourselves. All for one and one for all, esprit de corps, et. al.

And though I have many, many flaws, my wife thinks I'm a saint, mainly due to people like Drew. And I'm not above jumping on the bandwagon when another husband turms out to be a jackass.

"You're lucky to have me, dear," I tell her, "Lucky indeed."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles.


I'm in Paul's boat, I change the poopy ones, I clean, I do dishes, I even cook. That gives me room to move when I want things like going out for drinks every blue moon, and playing video games all hours of the night.

Even the odd morning sleeping in.

We have a friend whose husband does nothing whatsoever with the baby, or clean, or cook ever. I hope those friends stay around for quite awhile.


Nota Bene: Keep thanking my husband for years of artful cooking that gave me many extra hours a week to write.


"...the day after you paid the bill for the procedure, left you for the T-ball coach, taking your kids and your boobs and permanently depriving me of the greatest contrast agent ever."

Invariably, another good contrast agent will show up. The lowest sort of human isn't going to go away, not even when we're all wearing white jumpsuits, walking through automatic, whooshing doors, flying hovercraft and speaking succinctly and without contractions.

He and his female equivalent, the gum-smacking, eye-rolling, shrieking "he was all like, 'no WAY!' and I was all like, 'WAY!'" harpy with the huge hair, will haunt us until we extinguish ourselves in a giant WHOOMF of greed and breeding.

The Sanity Inspector



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