(And I’m not sorry. NOT! SORRY!)

I called my spouse an Irredeemable Fuckface today. I meant it.

“You, sir, are an Irredeemable Fuckface. If, at the present, you were pinned face-down and helplessly beneath something Very Large and Excrutiatingly Heavy, I would kick you over and over in the assal region until my anger was sated!”

(I would indeed –for the record– dig him out after that)

I love that d00d beyond the motherfucking-made-of-green-cheese moon and back, but he better start listening a little better or ten kinds of hell is going to break free and run all down over the top of his thick-assed head.

Gutting and remodeling a home on a time crunch is a bit of a, ummm, strain.