Wednesday, March 28, 2012

MPH Thinks He's Funny

Okay, so update on the killer cold.  I felt a little better again this morning, still congested but better, so I made a decision to try to make it through the day without those loopy cold medications.  It was only about 9:30 when MPH (My Poor Husband) gave me a call to ask about something.  And this is what I got for bothering to answer the phone... which I won't be doing again, I assure you... do you hear me, MPH?!

The Queen:  Hello (said in a moderately congested voice...okay, fairly nasal)
MPH: Baby!  Are you okay?
The Queen:  Yeah.  I'm just trying to make it through the day without the cold meds.
MPH: Umm, why?
The Queen:  Because they make me light headed.
MPH:  Sweetheart, you're blonde!  You're supposed to be light headed!  It's your thing!
The Queen:  Think you're funny, don't you?
MPH:  Yup.
The Queen: I know where you sleep, funny boy.

And that, dear readers and loyal subjects, is when I used the nasal spray so I'd be able to breathe better to give him hell when he got home.

Yes, it's true. MPH does think he's funny. I keep trying to explain to him that he's the straight man to my comedic genius and exceptional timing but he just doesn't seem to get it.  For instance, MPH has a favorite joke.  It's a joke about a pig... and it's HORRIBLE!! I hate this joke. I can't TELL you how much I hate this joke.  Mostly I hate it because it's long, and by long I mean this thing takes forever to tell.  I've heard it about a gazillion times.  And on top of it all, it's not funny.  But he loves it.  He's been telling it forever, and just recently I've figured out why.  Turns out he tells it BECAUSE I hate it.  Isn't that just the way men are?  Apparently he's usually able to warn whoever he's telling that I hate this joke.  This way they're able to observe as I begin to explain how much I hate it with full knowledge of what's coming.  And if you can't tell yet, I'm not quiet about how much I hate this joke.  In fact, I nearly go into convulsions as I'm trying to describe how horrible this joke is to whoever is supposed to be listening to them. I beg them to refuse to listen. I plead with them to run while they still can...ANYTHING to make him not tell this joke in some situation where I can't run screaming from the room.  So it would appear that the joke wasn't really the whole point anyway.  The joke is more appropriately on me.  Go figure... geeze.  In retaliation, however, I always tell my favorite joke... which is more than a little obscene... and includes hand and body gestures that require me to stand up to tell it.... usually in a nice restaurant or public place where anyone without a fairly risqué sense of humor will be sure to be mortified.  Yes, people, that's my kind of joke!  And depending on how nice of a place we are when I decide to tell it, MPH has been known to nearly crawl under the table to try to convince anyone in the room that he's not with me.  That's how I know I've done a good job, by the way!  To my credit, at least my joke is funny!

As a reward for listening to me rant about that truly horrible joke that MPH likes to tell, however, I've left a little present on a former post.  I had it pointed out that some were not happy about the fact that I explained both prison tattoos and logical reasoning in the same post without actually showing anyone a picture of my own prison tattoo.  I have remedied that this evening.  So here it is at the bottom of the post.  It's because I love you.  You're welcome.
Enjoy!!!  Oh and if you ever have the chance to meet MPH in person... please oh please oh please, do NOT ask about the pig joke!  I'll give you a dollar later.

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