Wife wanted

I want a wife. I do, start saving money for Christmas because I will not be happy until I have a wife. Not a wife like me, heavens no. I want a real wife, a wife who can cook a five-course meal in 5 inch heels and a full face of make-up. A wife who rubs my feet at the end of a hard-day and will shut-the-hell-up for five minutes to let me think! A wife who will buff the floors (whatever the hell that means) and clean the windows. A wife who cares about the state of my socks and will purchase new ones and quietly whisk away the offending holey socks.

What else do I want in a wife? Well, thanks for asking. I want a wife who really cares, one that will ask me if I took my medications and keep up on my Dr.s appointments. A wife who will cook healthy meals and snacks and make me walk after dinner. I want a wife who will remember birthdays and holidays. A wife who will shop frugally and endlessly for the perfect gift for said holidays and birthdays. A wife who remembers important dates and pays bills on time. On time I say, none of this OHMYGOD they are shutting off the electric, hurry up and run out there and throw some money at the electric company man!

I want a wife dammit. A wife, a good, clean, honest wife. One who makes hand-crafted gifts and a mean martini. 

Old me...

While I long for the days when my blogs were full of wit and merriment they, alas, are no longer as such. They are more full of whining, bitching, pissing and moaning a sure sign that I am getting old. If only I could put grey hairs and wrinkles on my blogs then I would have the old trinity. You do know what the old trinity is, don't you? Bitching about everything while doing nothing, wrinkles and saying such gems as "back in my day" or "when I was a kid". *sigh* I at least thought I would make it to the big 5-0 before I started acting like this, boy, I aged quickly. Everyone always said I was mature for my age, well to hell with them!

So, I had adopted a new alter-ego in my twilight years (all 36 of them...), Super Nancy to the rescue (my new feisty alter-ego), speaker-outer for the downtrodden, teller of shit no-one wants to hear.  Nancy, she is a total peach man! She is witty and strong-willed, can't be broken. She is the voice of reason. Or so I thought. She was going to be my savior.  She was the Hero-ess for beaten down women everywhere and she only lived for about 12 hours and dammit, she died crying with her head ripped off and shoved up her ass for daring to voice her opinion. The opinion of those that cannot be heard. I loved you Nancy and you will be missed. Lesson learned? If you are going to be ferocious, don't cry. No one likes a cry-baby.