Saturday, 19 April 2008

Friends don't let friends knit drunk (ADULT CONTENT)

It is not often nowadays that I blog about personal stuff because I kind of did it to death a year or two ago but sometimes something happend that fucks me right off. So maybe while friends don't let friends knit drunk one should always bear in mind a few other little mantras. Let us consider some.
  • Don't blog angry
  • Regularly test your smoke alarm
  • Always make sure you have contents insurance because you don't know what the stupid fucker you live with is going to do next
  • Men don't change unless they are under 5 years old
  • That which does not kill us may well make us stronger but is also going to piss me right off

The stupid twat came home paralytic last night. What kind of person reaches the age of 31 and still totally fails to recognise their own limits? He bursts in and immediately falls against the bedroom wall waking me and making the wardrobe shake. I fall back to sleep. I am guessing this is about 1.30am. I can't be sure but I think it is a good estimate. Because it was 1.50am when the smoke alarm went off. How long would you say it takes a fuckwit to stagger into the kitchen, find a pack of pikey super noodles, spill them open and into a saucepan, turn the hob on full blast, pass out on the sofa and for them to boil dry and burn to the point where they fill the flat with smoke and set the fire alarm off. I'm estimating 20 minutes.

I got up when the smoke alarm went off, as you do, and turned it off, turned off the hob, poured cold water into the smoking noodles and walked into the living room where the computer genius was. It took 20 seconds of rough shaking to rouse him. I actually kind of enjoyed that bit. You might think of that as a highlight. In hindsight I should have made more of that. I opened the window and went back into the kitchen to turn on the extractor fan and by the time I got back to the living room he'd got up, closed the window, and passed out again on the sofa. What a fucking retard.

This morning I got up and on my way to the bathroom heard my name being shouted from the spare room. "What's the matter" he says. "It wasn't so bad" he says. Wasn't so bad. I've had the windows open most of the morning and the place still stinks of burnt noodles. He had passed out and hadn't even stirred when the smoke alarm had gone off. We don't have any contents insurance because he said he'd sort it out 3 years ago and then did fuck all. He won't even sign his fucking 'death in service' insurance over to me even though we're fucking married. If he had managed to set fire to the kitchen, himself, the flat and most importantly my uninsured stash and even me in the bedroom I'd have been left with nothing except some memories of how fucking typical the whole thing was. It's also left me feeling slightly narked. Can you tell?

Now when he reads this he's going to be pissed off and use that to try and gain the upper hand in the grumpy stakes. But do you know what? I don't fucking care. I am so pissed off with him. I just booked a 5 star cruise down the nile for october. I should be happy. I should be floaty light. I should possibly stop using the word' should' so much since i regularly lecture others on how that kind of phrasing leads to depression and despair. Perhaps actually I 'should' just stop blogging and go and do something fun.


Anonymous said...

I'm very glad you - and all your neighbors - weren't incinerated! I think you have the patience of a saint, as I might have dragged him outdoors and pour a bucket of water on him! And left him there. And locked the door. Can you have a good yell at him and leave for the day to do something lovely and soul-recharging? Lunch, shopping, etc? Tell him there better be presents and apologies later! (Him buying for YOU, of course!)

Auntie Noo said...

I wish i could think of something clever or witty to say, but I can't :( I'd have poured the noodles over his groin area myself, but then i'm not known for my patience!

Karen said...

I'm glad everyone and everything is fine. You must have been scared to death.
I've been married for almost 23 years. Men are selfish little boys who only behave when they want something. Don't let him off easily but don't let your marriage break up over it. It takes time to break them in and make them see that they are no longer living for themselves. An honest rational you could have killed us and everyone in this building and you scared the shit out of me conversation is necessary.

Cath said...

My husband got really, really drunk several years ago and threw up all over our only bed. I had an important exam the next day. I kicked him until he got up (I wouldn't say he woke up, he was too drunk) and made him sleep on the floorboards downstairs (where he threw up again) and buy us another bed the next day. And clean up. Properly.

I hear your anger. He could have easily burnt the house down. IMO, you're perfectly justified in your anger. Marriage can be bloody frustrating.

Cath again said...

PS, get the insurance sorted out yourself. Moral high ground and all that.

Love. x

Cath yet again said...

Pooch, if you DO read this, I have told my husband about this and we both think you're wrong. It was completely irresponsible. End of.

Probably Jane said...

Thank goodness you are OK. You have every right to be narked. Poor Pooch - he will have to make a more imaginative effort at self immolation to get on the shortlist for the Darwin Awards. As it stands it merely makes him a rather commonplace fool.

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