A man’s jeans are washed in hot water, dried on very high heat and then zip right up. With a woman’s pair of jeans, they must be washed in ice cold water, line dried and then the jeans must be pulled up by using the jaws of life while an exorcism is being performed. When it doesn’t work (and it never does), you jeopardize getting 10 points off your driver’s license for driving without benefit of jeans. Telling the officer that your dog ate your jeans does not work. I tried.
Your husband buys a new vacuum (because you won’t be caught buying appliances that don’t resemble a flat iron) and after he does a test run (forgetting that there is space under the bed where dastardly things congregate) he mutters something about it being a gift for you! You end up losing sleep, debating whether to smother him with his own pillow as he dreams about being held captive by an army of dust bunnies whose leader is Jennifer Lopez. Go with 2 pillows. It’s quicker.
Some people from the west coast feel the need to make fun of us eastcoasters because we only experienced a 5.9 earthquake. You guys are just so tough, aren’t you? Come to NY. I will show you what survivor mode is all about and then we can get some wine and make fun of everyone. And the east and west coast really need to get along because when the middle states secede from the union, with Rick Perry and Michelle Bachman as their leaders, and relocate somewhere south of Australia, we will only be about 22 minutes from each other.
New Jersey will become the penal colony for any of the people who appeared in the Housewives of NJ, Jersey Shore and Jerseylicious. Snooki – your striped Juicy New Jersey sweat shorts are ready. So, sometimes life is fair.
You take your dog outside so she can take care of business and one of your cats pees on living room rug because the dog tried to take one of their cat beds outside with her. She is a yellow lab and there is a law that you cannot get mad at a yellow lab- they are so sweet and sensitive – it’s a good law. And the most fulfilling part of this is telling the husband (because we share everything – not) and then I get to sit down and watch his head detach from his neck and spin all over the room like a dancing dervish. Yeah, I love that part.
Razors made for women (someone out there did the research- these blades are for babes) cut so deep into the back of your ankle (you know the spot where there really is no skin) that you start to pass out from the blood lost. I am experiencing that right now and have to stop so I can write up a will while I still have the strength. I am leaving all the rugs to the cats.