Definitions of High and Low

Life after 35 is a constant series of unjustified emotional highs and lows.  Not all that different from being 15, except that now I don't get a throbbing erection when unattainable girls nod at me politely.

The highs and lows have grown more pathetic during the years, an example of which is two weeks ago when I was driving down a nearby road and I discovered that the construction that has been ongoing for around a year finally opened up to a new road which leads directly to Target. 

You would've thought that Jesus Christ himself had come down from Valhalla and granted me three wishes (or whatever the fuck he does).  I nearly burst into tears and then almost wrecked my car trying to get my wife on the cell phone.

"Honey!  Honey, listen!  The road to Target is OPEN!  YES!  I KNOW!!  How AWESOME is this!!?  Godammn, this is the best day of my entire year.  This is better than the day we got married.  I know.  I KNOW!!  IT'S FANFUCKINGTASTIC!"

My wife has learned to humor me.  It's just easier than slogging through divorce papers.

This past weekend, while attempting to mow the lawn, I had what I've patented as a Witteurysm, which is when one blows a part of his brain out of his earhole due to the actions of an inanimate object.

Me: "Motherfuck that lawnmower!  Fuck it in the ass!"

Wife: "..."

Me: "I've hated that fucking thing since day fucking one.  I'm getting rid of it.  Fuck it."

Wife: "Um..."

Me:  "First the self-propel mechanism goes out and then it can't handle a little 'long grass' (using my high-pitched condescending voice, so the lawn mower could hear me from the garage)."

Wife:  "Ooohhhkaaaay..."

Me:  "And fuck if I'm going to sell it.  I'm taking that goddamned thing out to the middle of nowhere, throwing it into a ditch and putting a bullet in its head.

Wife: "Honey, tell me how you really feel.  Do you like the lawnmower or not?"

Me:  "I do not care for the lawnmower, no."

Wife:  "Well, okay then.

Comments

[Ezra]

I had that experience, the road one, at 15. Except, because I was a nerd, it was a magically paved pathway to the nearest Barnes and Nobles. And because I was heavy child, I had no girls nodding politely at me. Erections proceeded unbothered, though.

[the black crowe]

Actually - Your wedding was much better than a road to Target. I was there. Wow can your wife drink! And please, let's all call it "Target" and pronounce it properly. If one more skank goes for the french "TarZhay" pronunciation, I'll personally skull fuck her 'til the cows come home. Her ass will look like the Lincoln tunnel by the time I'm done. Loving - I know... P.S. When you trash your mower, you can take my fuckin' weed trimmer with! That damn line feeder broke a week after owning that piece of shit! Now I open it up every time the line snaps too short to cut and manually yank out the line. I could get a new one but I'd rather bitch about the junky one I already battle on a weekly basis. One day it's gettin' the "Good Fella" treatment though. Batter Up! Go Cubs! Peace!

[sweetney]

oh wow. dude, i think i'm married to you.

[Lord Ruryl]

"I had what I've patented as a Witteurysm, which is when one blows a part of his brain out of his earhole due to the actions of an inanimate object."

Haaaaahahahahaa.... happens to me all the time with Windows XP (does Windows count in your concept of Witteurysm?)

[Scott-san]

I think I found that Roadway to Target (and TACO MAC) a little rollercoaster-like. Some blind dips, hairpin turns . . . a little unsettling to my carsick passengers.

But I'm with ya on the blossoming enthusiasm of approaching-middle-age.

[Brad]

Yes, I believe you and I are kindred in the spirit of hating inanimate objects. Kids have frayed my normally tidy ends just a bit, and my quick-to-temper outbursts really only rises in the face of a trash-can that will not open, or a hose that will not retract properly.

BTW, my commute was trimmed by 5 minutes recently as they opened a whole new lane through the trickiest part of my drive. I merged knowingly into that lane and then laughed maniacally as I drove solo on it for a while. "I figured it out first, you stupid fuckers! Look at me goooo!" The windows were rolled up but they heard me. I'm sure of it.

[brandon]

several of our appliances have tried to come between me and my wife, and only one was moderately successful, the table saw, which apparently had planned all along to deposit a hefty sack full of sawdust into her shoe rack. fortunately, a shop vac brought us back together. in more ways than one.

[Jen]

Witteurysm? Is that what that was? When I (repeatedly) threatened to "punch that fucking copy machine right in it's fucking face" a few weeks ago? In front of my boss?

Good to know I'm not alone.

[snowy]

go ahead twist the knife. they closed my target almost 2 yrs ago and i am still not over it. [*sob*]

[TJ]

Lawn mowers are usually very responsive to that type of mocking irony. I prefer to bite the grass in front of it, saying "No, no, let meeee" as I spray mouthfuls of grass at it.

It usually gets the message.

[styro]

From personal experience, close proximity to Target can only lead STRAIGHT DOWN THE DARK PATH TO HELL.

I have 16 dozen eggs in my fridge, do you need some?

[suburby]

You are the funniest! Write a book already, mofo!