 |
| Under That Jacket, This Guy is RIPPED! |
I’m writing this from the sanctuary of the bathroom today. My family keep assaulting me with hugs and love, and demands of my attention. Can’t a guy get some peace. My wife is on a crusade to find all our legal documents. We’re trying to extract as much money from the government as possible. Today’s mission: to claim “Child Allowance”. For the uninitiated, child allowance is essentially free money from the government for having kids. Yup, that’s one of the few perks of living in commie, left-wing Europe. If you cut us, we bleed, eh... red. It’s not insignificant either: I get 260 Euro for my two kids. That’s about $350. A month. That buys a lot of diapers and crayons.
We’re also trying to get registered as a married couple, which will lower my tax rate, because here in commie, left-wing Europe we pay insanely high taxes. It’s so that we can pay everybody “Child Allowance”. I know; I’m from here and I don’t get it. Trying to understand the reasoning of some of our laws would push you to the limits of your sanity, and beyond. I just do what I do whenever I’m faced with something I don’t understand — I just smile and nod. I seem do that a lot. I think it’s weirding people out.
I don’t look at my bank statements much; if I want to read a horror story, I’ll pick up a Stephen King book. But I needed to log in to get some details for my wife. Anyway, I noticed a charge of 67 Euro for something called “Ripped Muscle”. I don’t have ripped muscles, so I’m feeling a little short changed by that. I think I remember signing up for a free sample of some kind of supplement though. I must have given them my debit card number. Why? I hear you ask? Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m fucking retarded, clearly.
I also saw a charge of $167 from Hertz Rent-a-car. I called customer service, and they have no idea what the charge is for. They said they’d call me back. I feel like maybe karma has bitten me in the ass on this one, but we’ll see. I’m sure they’ll find a reason for the charge. Either that or they’ll give me a coupon for $167 worth of car rental, that I’ll never need to use. Either way, I won’t hold my breath for a refund.
Well, I gotta go now, my son is knocking on the door looking for “love” and “affection”. Can’t I get a damn moment to myself?
My guess would be someone hacked into your bank account? Or you have been working out in your sleep while driving rental cars?! ;)-Ashley
ReplyDeleteIf anybody has been hacking my bank account, they're in for a shock. Or maybe a laugh.
DeleteI'm going to assume I am working out while asleep. It'll help me feel less guilty not working out while awake.
The toilet is the only place a guy can have some privacy.
ReplyDeleteSee, if you were the woman in the relationship, you could control every part of the house and kick your male counterpart out of every single inch of space you wanted to - except the toilet. That is a dude's mother fucking domain.
PS if you stay up watching infomercials late at night... you'll spend mass amounts on literal shit, and when you get it you'll have such a fun time because it's like a present from yourself you didn't know you bought yourself.
This is so true. Sometimes I just bring the laptop in and pretend to poop. My wife thinks I have an irritable bowel. I just blame her cooking, lol.
DeleteOhhh.... never blame the cooking.
DeleteI cook. and if the manfriend says anything bad about it, well that means no food or sex for at least a week. Or a month. Or a year. He doesn't want to test me.
My goodness though, if you really need that much privacy do what Bruce Jenner did - get a separate house in Malibu.