You Love Me! You Really, Really Love Me!

Loyal readers (isn't it easy to be loyal when there's so little to read? Still, congratulations), I must convey some disheartening news. Seems the Wife (she calls me the Mister, I call her the Wife. Well, I call her a few other things too, but only when I'm sure she's several states away), through every fault of my own, has discovered the existence of this blog. Let's all pray that she doesn't, first, make me put my opinions away in the toy chest before, second, sending me to bed for a nap. I was never much of a napper. Then I started working nights. Although, can you really call it a nap when the sleep you're getting during the day is the first sleep you've had in 24 hours? Ahhh, life's just full of difficult questions.

I'll give you two others. One, how can someone so intelligent be so dumb? Now, as this question refers to the "gentle" Wife, some delicacy, in order to preserve my life, is called for. This refers to one area of her life, and ONE area only. I repeat: ONE. Don't go running off to her with some story about how I called her dumb. Because that's not what I'm doing. She's very smart. However, one of the risks you run when marrying an intelligent, driven, woman (and a feminist) is that you will not end up with a June Cleaver-esque domestic goddess. Now, this is okay with me. I like to cook, cleaning, while a chore, can be fun, and laundry isn't bad, as the spin cycle allows time for shooting simulated Nazis on a video game. So, while I am happy to do most of the housework most of the time, situations arise, such as these past two weeks, where I'm working every night and thus not getting much done. No big deal. Until it comes time to load the dishwasher. And so I ask you: How can someone so intelligent do such a bad job at it? To look in the dishwasher after she has loaded it is like looking at a Andy Warhol painting that Picasso or Dali "touched up." Maybe I take it a bit too far, lining everything up between the little plastic posts that I crazily believed served some purpose other than to provide a $0.05 per day job to some poor foreign worker. That being said, I do appreciate all the Wife has done at home while I've been working, so much so that I'll only ask one more thing of her: Honey, if you read this before I get home from work, I'm really tired, so could you lay out a pillow and blanket on the couch for me before barring me from the bedroom?

For a second question, I leave you with this: Can't Kerry do any better??? If you haven't seen it yet, check out Kerry's remarks and Bush's reaction here, here, and here. I get where he was going with the joke. If you don't study, if you don't learn, then you make God-awful foreign policy decisions that destabilize not only the entire Middle East, but north-east Asia as well (see Korea, North. Although I suppose he may have been counting on Team America to take care of that little problem). But seriously, can't Kerry do better? That's the type of joke that requires too much thought for the average American (rest assured, I do not consider you, dear reader, to be average. Well, maybe you Bob, but not the rest of you). Kerry would have done much better with something like "Bush, your mom is so old she ran with Dolly Madison from the White House as the British closed in." Wham, bam. By going with a joke such as this, not only do you appeal to the lowest common denominator, but you still show some intelligence. I mean, who doesn't love a good "your mom" joke? Seriously. Show me someone who doesn't laugh at a "your mom" joke, and I'll show you a vodka-swilling, un-American communist. So, Kerry, next time, stick to "your mom" jokes with a bit of intelligence mixed in. It's not really funny, but neither are you.

Okay, enough of that. Tomorrow, as the Mister Speaks (it's kind of like As the World Turns, but without the ridiculous story lines), we'll delve deeper into the murky world of..... umm.... well.... errr.... the world.