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Freaky Is The New Black

My husband is my biggest fan.  He reads my blog religiously, like every…single…day.  It’s like he is stalking me.  I think he does it mostly to make sure that I’m not saying anything particularly bad about him.  As if I would ever do something that, idiot.  And he IS an idiot – sometimes.  Why?  Because he refuses to let me drive his car.  What’s his problem?  We bought the damn thing with OUR money – our COMBINED money – his annoyingly large income and my simple graciousness – the fact he went to school for an eternity (or what seemed like an eternity) and the just as important fact that I supported him all that time while staying home to raise our hyper and/or difficult offspring.  Yeah, so the car IS part mine – like fifty percent mine – no, more like fifty-three percent mine since I wash the dirty underpants in this house (that should damn well count for something), and since I’m better at organizing Tupperware than he is. OK, so I have my own fairly nice car, but still, he should share.

Anyway, after reading my post from the other day – the one where I was rambling on about almost nothing – he said, “You know Fern, most of the time, I think you are smart and funny.  Today though, I think you are a fucking lunatic.”  We were in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying because I was flossing my teeth.  You can never be too careful when it comes to your dental hygiene. “Did you hear me, Fern?  I said that I think you are a fucking lunatic.” He reads my blog while sitting in the bath.  I told you – stalker.  What’s under those bubbles, eh buddy?

After I’d finally absorbed his rude comment, I was shocked. “A lunatic? Wow. That’s pretty harsh. And I’m your wife, not some bum on the street, or some seventeen- or nineteen- or twenty-one-year-old kid who lives in this house who is made from half of your genes.” Incensed, I tied my housecoat tightly around my waist – letting out a low “fuck you” – and went straight to bed, where I took the good pillows, rolled onto my side, and didn’t even bother to give him a goodnight kiss before falling into a deep, deep, Colin Firth-induced sleep. I suffer; he suffers. He should know that by now.

Since then however, I’ve given some thought as to what he said. Sometimes, you have to calm down to realize the hard truth. And you know what? He’s right. Sometimes, I AM a bit of a lunatic – not like “I want to eat you alive starting with your ears” lunatic, but lunatic like crazy, crazy like weird, weird like different, different like “fucking awesome”.

These days, people all over the world are striving to be distinct. There are too many of us – the world is grossly over-populated. How else is a person supposed to make their mark? But you gotta know when to stop, because there’s weird as in “you are fun and quirky and I’d really like you to come to my birthday party” and then there’s weird as in “you wrap elastics around and around your head because you think – in some warped way – that it makes you look thinner, and you are trying to attract girls, so what other choice do you have”.

Source: be-on-the-look-out-for-fake-christian-louboutins.funnyfunny12.no-ip.org.

There’s weird as in “you’ve decorated your bedroom – which is in the basement of your parents’ house – to look a lot like the inside of a space station, and you sit in there wearing a red shear teddy, goggles, and a headset with your multiple old-school remote controls, and you play online aircraft simulation games with other nutjobs who’ve never held down a job for longer than a week, or never had sex with another human being, or both”.

Source: leotardsandthebunsinthem.wordpress.com.

There’s weird as in “you and your friends play this game where you go out to a farm, put on pigs’ masks (except one of you who dresses like an alien) and you pull your collective dominatrix – Xena, Captain Mother – around the field in a chariot-style wagon while she yells, ‘Onward you dirty swine. Take Momma to her stall and she will reward you with as many penis stomps as you can endure’”.

Source: tumblr.com.

There’s weird as in “you look like you have toaster elements all over your head, and you even have the plug”.

Source: tumblr.com.

OK, so I’m weird, but I’m not THAT weird. Yes, I shaved my head when I was a teenager. And yes, I like peanut butter and cheese on toast. (We’ve been over that one before. It is the best snack ever.) And yes, I like wearing my husband’s boxer briefs to bed. It makes me feel safe.

Source: tumblr.com.

So I say, if you are different, embrace it. And if you want to bring a horse up to your apartment, go for it.  I don’t know how you are going to get it there, but hey, that’s not my problem.

  1. October 25, 2012 at 11:59 pm | #1

    Ha ha, if I suffer, he suffers. You got it, that’s my mantra! What’s going on here? My husband calls me a lunatic too sometimes. Do they know each other? He doesn’t like to take baths, tho. And he won’t read my blog unless I read it out loud to him. I’m making him take me out for sushi tonight-I told him the kitchen was out of order. You are so funny and witty, honestly!

    • October 26, 2012 at 12:51 am | #2

      Oh God, I love sushi. I fucking LOVE it. Thanks for reminding me. Haven’t had it in a while. I’ll have to try that trick tomorrow. ;)

  2. Le Clown
    October 26, 2012 at 12:16 am | #3

    The Fur Files,
    Fuck yeah! I walk around in my clown make-up, with my head up high. This has inspired me to continue to do so… With a t-shirt with Le Clown’s face on it, wearing clown make-up…
    Le Clown

  3. Stacia
    October 26, 2012 at 12:27 am | #5

    You are now my daily read. Hilarious….seriously. Like I’d come for dinner just for the entertainment. ;)

    • October 26, 2012 at 12:44 am | #6

      And for you Stacia, anytime you are up my way here in Ottawa, you can stop by for dinner. We’d love to have you. :)

  4. October 26, 2012 at 12:46 am | #7

    You have a gift for locating the most disturbing images.

  5. October 26, 2012 at 1:55 am | #9

    Good for you, but tell your husband I stalk you nearly as much as he does. The worse criticism I get from mine is he reads my stuff and says meh….sigh

  6. javaj240
    October 26, 2012 at 2:35 am | #11

    We’re all weird and/or fucked up. Whatever! What’s wrong with a waitress who doesn’t like people?

  7. October 26, 2012 at 3:24 am | #13

    Mmm. Peanut butter and cheese. Why does no one else appreciate its deliciousness? I think they’re the weird ones. Srsly.

  8. October 26, 2012 at 3:45 am | #15

    I have no problem being a little unconventional. I like it. But now I feel inadequate because I don’t have a horse in my apartment.

    • October 26, 2012 at 3:51 am | #16

      I want a horse too, right in my living room. To really freak out the neighbours.

  9. why am I here in a handbasket?
    October 26, 2012 at 9:51 am | #17

    my motto has always been “chicks before dicks” buts he’s right. You are a lunatic.

  10. October 26, 2012 at 2:20 pm | #19

    Oh where do you ever find such unique photos?
    But it’s awesome that your hubby reads your blog!

    • October 26, 2012 at 7:42 pm | #20

      Secretly, I’m glad he likes it. He’s one of the people who counts the most. Along with all of you guys, of course. :)

  11. October 26, 2012 at 5:18 pm | #21

    “You know Fern, most of the time, I think you are smart and funny. Today though, I think you are a fucking lunatic.” My husband says this to me every now and again. Only he never calls me Fern, which is good because I’d be all “Who the fuck is Fern?” and then I might stop washing his underpants.

    • October 26, 2012 at 5:22 pm | #22

      If my husband called me a different woman’s name, that would be the LAST time I’d ever wash his underpants. LOL

      • October 26, 2012 at 5:53 pm | #23

        Gotta draw the line somewhere. ;)

      • October 26, 2012 at 6:19 pm | #24

        I’d wash in underpants…in cayenne pepper. Betcha he’d remember THAT.

      • October 26, 2012 at 11:42 pm | #25


  12. October 27, 2012 at 4:59 am | #26

    While I admit that cheese and peanut butter on toast is more weirdness then I can possibly tolerate in one mouthful, your totally amazing daily freak flag flying makes me swoon. And I don’t know there’s something about goggles and red lingerie that is just making me scream “Make it work!”. Totally channeling Tim Gunn there.

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