I can’t believe she’s gone! I don’t know if the bitch likes getting beaten silly or whether she thinks I suddenly developed amnesia but she actually left the house without my permission…again.
I’m left with no choice but to express to her the depth of my displeasure in a more memorable way than last time. You’d think a broken nose and an eye so swollen shut she was running into stuff for a week would suffice but it seems not.
I really don’t ask all that much from her. Cook my food, wash my clothes, clean my house and be available when I require a bit of “stress relief”. That’s it in a nutshell. I mean, from time to time, there’s some stuff added on; but in essence that’s it.
She gets the sweet end of the deal: broadband, deluxe cable, her computer, and that’s just the tip of the freakin’ iceberg. She can shop online for damned near anything and it comes straight here. In exchange, ALL I asked is…don’t be out and about running with those worthless slutty friends of hers.
She doesn’t have the gray matter, apparently, to differentiate between the stuff that’s important and the crap those femi-Nazi bitches tell her she’s “entitled” to. I suppose what works for them works but then it seems their men (those that aren’t too bull-dyke to even get a man) are willing to let them wander around willy-nilly with no guidance and no direction.
If women were smart enough or capable enough to fend for themselves without a strong male hand to guide them that would be just fine. But they aren’t and we all know it. If left to their own devices they wind up as whores or crack heads or worse. I’ve seen it more times than I care to remember. I call it the “unnatural order of things”. When they are allowed the freedom to do as they wish and don’t get a bit of discipline or direction, well they just end up dicking things up sooner or later. It’s just a sad, unavoidable fact of life. Plain and simple, I say.
Well, I guess it will be time for a little remedial learning a la closed fist whenever the stupid wench sees fit to drag her fat ass home. She best be having the time of her life because I am pretty damned sure by the time I get done with her, she ain’t going to be in any shape to try leaving the house for a damned long time to come.
Oh good, silly bitch didn’t lose her mind entirely. It looks like she was sensible enough to leave me something to eat. Oven timer shows it ought to be about done any second. Wonder what the hell she made ‘cause I sure as hell don’t smell any food cooking.
Huh? What the freak? An oxygen bottle?!? What the hell’s THAT doing in the oven? And who the hell…aww…no way man…she wouldn’t…how the?