It’s So My Mom.

The daily descent into becoming my mom.

Chronicles the daily descent into becoming my mom.


Archive for the ‘men turn women into their mothers’


Poor Bill

Try as you might, you just can’t outsmart evolution. You know, that thing that dictates how people came about, and continue to grow? Call it fate, for our sort of shorter-winded purposes here.

You see it all around you — even in this episode of Gordon Ramsay’s “Kitchen Nightmares.” The coevolution of old age and marriage have made a distinct set of behaviors practically inevitable, which I have witnessed from my own matriarchs, and which I fully expect to realize at the end of my own rope.

…And which, most importantly for our post, are demonstrated in the relationship between old-time couple Adele and Bill (below): Woman grows into a crabby ol’ prune from years of thankless service, directing her resentment toward her old man because, well, he’s closest, and the people who inevitably feel sorry for the ol’ happy-go-lucky-bastard don’t know all the shit he pulled when he was younger. Behold: Destiny. *

And what does Poor Bill have to say?


*Special thanks to my beloved, long-suffering Bigchap for his brilliant editing of those copyrighted clips. There’s nothing that engineer with an actual personality can’t do.

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Loogie time

loogie
So perhaps this is TMI, but I felt it had to be shared.

This is how men help turn women into their mothers. This amorphous globule you see here.

Now, I’m not gonna say whodunit, but I am going to cop to having logged frighteningly whiney and bitchy complaints to other rooms about it. So it obviously wasn’t me.

And because whoever may have created that masterpiece might possibly come across this post and protest at its, uh, translucency, here you go: Yes, I fart a lot in the apartment, and I’m messy, and a horrible housekeeper, and I scream at the other tenant in my humble abode, probably more than necessary. And earlier this week when I pounded on the door so hard you thought it was Death, I was possibly overreacting to your lack of answering my phone calls to help me with the groceries. So I’m certainly no saint either.

But you gotta take some credit for that. :)