You probably just need a sandwich,
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…he said, eating his own words.
Almost broke my zero pukes streak today.
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If you were a real man, your wife would be feeding you your own words.
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Don’t be silly, my wife just turned 35 and she can barely feed herself now.
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I have two nutritional confessions.
- Earlier in the week I said I was going to be disciplined with my nutrition until I saw a certain number on the scale again - specifically, I wasn’t going to have any beer. Last night my dinner was about 250 grams of fried tofu and five bottles of Busch Light.
- Today I ate some questionable mashed potatoes. They’ll be two weeks old tomorrow. They smelled a bit off but I ate them anyway. I think my stomach will be fine but now when I burp, it smells and tastes like rotten food. It’s so gross. I can’t stand myself right now.
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Ahahahahaha!!!
I feel insulted by the guy. Even after I voiced my utter contempt and disdain for Captain Marvel so many times, he still thinks I don’t hate women.
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Oh, and I watched Endgame again today and I still groaned when Captain Marvel appeared at a certain point in the movie. Those who have watched it will know what I’m talking about.
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For the record my wife brings home 2.5 times my income and has hair past her shoulder blades…
I am one Happy son of a bitch and you can quote me… 
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What’s the deal with sandwiches anyway? You people ever deal with really traditional wives who surf the internet for new age shit about nutrition? When my wife offers to make me a sandwich, she spends an hour doing some funky stuff in the kitchen. I hear the knife on the chopping board, frying and shit, then the end product looks like something out of a vegan deli that probably has 100 calories in it. I end up having to grab the peanut butter and spreading it all over a lot of leafy shit with funny colors and tiny bits of meat you have to actually look for if you want to find them and they all look like braised duck or something. I can’t intrude on her while she’s making it or she’ll be upset. I can’t eat anything while she’s taking so long making it or she’ll be upset. Whatever I say about what I want in the sandwich will not be listened to or she’ll just humor me by throwing in a tiny little morsel of something like ham which you need a fucking microscope to see. Protests are futile. Adding the peanut also upsets her but, fuck, I need the calories.
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Dude I was going to bring you up since you’ve mentioned it before but didn’t want to bring you into that madness. But seriously, the idea that a woman making more than a man makes for an unhappy household is hilarious.
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Yeah. I’m just playing observer on that thread . No urge to take part in it .
She has clearly never had a redneck sammich. Four slices of bread + 1 lb of turkey, a little mayo or mustard, and tah dah! You have two sammiches!
Why do people complicate this?
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YOUTUBE!!!
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This is why I need an all or nothing approach. A measure is off or a fleck of something I know isn’t good touches my lip as I’m preparing my kid’s good and in my mind it’s “Diet is broken for the day!!! EAT ALL THE THINGS!!!” And then it’s a struggle for every second of the entire day until I inevitably give in haha
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This is the same reason why, when I get one flat tire, I get out, slash the other 3, push the car into oncoming traffic, cancel my insurance and quit my job.
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Yes, make a hot mess a train wreck, completely bypass the dumpster fire.
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When everything is a train wreck, nothing is a train wreck.
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