power drill – Contemplating the divine

To make no mistakes is not in the power of man

But fortunately correcting them is in the power of woman.

The only ‘JOI’ I’ve ever needed is “Oh all right, then, I suppose so but be quick and don’t make any mess, OK?”

They tend to be nervous, skittish beasts, understandably as they are right at the bottom of the food chain.

If none of them will own up, I guess she’ll just have to beat it out of them. Or at the other extreme, they might be brave and have an ‘I am Spartacus’ moment.

Go on, don’t be churlish. Look: she’s even colour-co-ordinated the accessories.

It’s not the despair. I can take the despair. It’s the hope I can’t stand. *John Cleese, Clockwise.*

Oppressive domesticity

…it’s the best sort.

Some wives can be so possessive… probably best to humour her. Maybe she’ll get it out of her system some day.

Looks like she needs to make a choice. You’re her husband, that should count for something, surely?

Wouldn’t want it to be too easy.

After a busy day’s housework I once asked my SO what she’d do without me – I mean, I can’t imagine her doing the ironing or the washing up! “Get another one, just like last time”, apparently.

Well, I’m glad she had a proper massage. My own masseur seemed to have entirely the wrong idea about what I was after – left me feeling quite stiff and sore, to be honest.

The wrongs of man

Power drill play… not for everyone, obviously. Just for you.

Despite the harsh look of the place, it’s actually more an institution for rehabilitation and education, rather than punishment as such. Of course, it all hurts, but there’s a purpose to it, that’s all I’m saying.

I don’t see why funerals have to be sad. I want my own funeral to be a joyous occasion, and when I told my SO that, She laughed and said it almost certainly would be.

See – and you were complaining about her fucking other men! All square now, right?

More fun than a trireme: you get to jog along the road in the fresh air.