YOU BASTARD!!!!

Sometimes I wonder why some guys choose a homosexual lifestyle. Now I think I may understand somewhat. Before you women start fretting and contemplating suicide, stop right there. No. I have not ventured into the fellowship of the ring. What I mean is, I know why men could be attracted to the lifestyle, and live quite happily without the fairer sex. I use the fairer sex term so loosely that if it was a pair of trousers, it would be round my ankles (you can stop right there you b@stards ... I can do without the innuendo).

I mean, all those sexual preferences that don't involve women. Like other men, animals, honeydew melons and the like. I mean they can't replace the female for sheer mechanical sexual enjoyment. So why consider an alternative? I'll tell you why. Sometimes, the price is simply too bloody high.

Let me demonstrate.


Her: Lets go out for dinner tonight.

Me: OK. So. what do you fancy eating?

Her: Why don't you choose.

Me: No. I'm easy. We'll go where you want.

Her: Why do I always have to choose?

Me: OK.OK. What about pizza?

Her: Don't fancy pizza.

Me: Indian?

Her: All the Indian restaurants here are crap.

Me: What about Italian?

Her: Will they have anything spicy?

Me: No dear. Its Italian. You know... pasta and all that stuff.

Her: In that case, no.

Me: What about Arabic.

Her: You know I don't like Arabic food.

Me: What about fast food? Macs? Burger King? Kentucky?

You. I want proper food.

Me: WHY DON'T YOU JUST PICK THEN?

Her: Why do I always have to choose?

Me: Maybe because a bleedin Koala Bear is less pickier than you. How about some bloody Eucalyptus leaves?

Her: Oh, I don't care anymore. I've lost my appetite. Go on your own if you want.

Me: What the hell? I'm not the one who wanted to go out anyway.

Her: I'm not good enough to take out anyway.

Me: What? Where did that come from?

You: You're tired of me aren't you? You want to see someone else don't you?

Me: What? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ON ABOUT?

Her: DON'T SCREAM AT ME. I ONLY WANTED A QUITE DINNER! YOU ALWAYS TURN THIS INTO AN ARGUMENT! YOU BASTARD!



Me: AARRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!


or...



Her: I'm just popping out with Jackie to the shops.

Me: That’s nice. Looking for anything in particular?

Her: What's that supposed to mean?

Me: Nothing. Just curious.

Her: You know damn well it's my Aunt Freda's birthday next week. Don’t tell me you forgot?

Me: Aunt who?

Her: Freda! Freda! Remember the old lady we met at my Uncle Henry's funeral? The loud one who's hearing aid was playing up?

Me: I remember. The one who's incontinence pants were also playing up if my olfactory memory serves me right.

Her: Well, it's her birthday next week.

Me: And I'm supposed to know that why, exactly? I met the old b.. b… biddy once!!

Her: Because she told you, that’s why. You were talking to her for a long while.

Me: Listen love. It was a struggle. I mean between the incessant bellowing and the rancid odour of fermented urine, I was hovering between unconsciousness from the fumes and agony from bleeding ear drums. Forgive me if I overlooked penciling her into my diary.

Her: (Sobbing) My family never mean anything to you. I'm never important in your life.

Me: Look, don’t cry. Here. Here's 100 pounds. Buy her a gift from us.

Her: I'm not spending all this on that cow!

Me: Well. Spend what you think is OK. Use any money left over on yourself. Buy some make-up. Maybe Jackie can help you pick some stuff out.

Her: What? Why Jackie? You like the way she does her make up do you?

Me: No. It's just that she's going with you to the shops. That’s what you girls do. Shop. Together.
Her: You fancy her don’t you?

Me: For God's sake woman. No I don’t. God help me!!!

Her: Why you so interested in the way she looks then? Heh? Answer that then. You preoccupied with her big breasts? You want to sleep with her right?

Me: ARE YOU MAD? WHAT THE HELL INSANELY CIRCUITOUS ROUTE DID YOU TAKE TO GET HERE???? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TURN LEFT TO LOGIC AVENUE AT THE END OF COMMON SENSE ROAD NOT TAKE A RIGHT INTO THE BLIND ALLEY CALLED IDIOTIC BASELESS ACCUSATION.

Her: (sobbing…again) I only wanted you to buy a present for my old Auntie and you end up screaming at me and starting an argument. You bastard.

Me: AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH








At that point, I remember there's a honeydew melon in the kitchen.



All this and she wasn't even menstruating. That's why Muslim women don't have to fast during Ramadhan. Can you imagine low blood sugar AND PMS? Lord protect us, it doesn't even bear thinking about. We would be knee deep in blood and no sanitary pad will be upto the job of soaking that up.