Discussion
I have tried so very hard to grow up. My marriage is recent, I love my wife, I am renovating a house for us to move into, and I was thinking that at nearly 40, I'd settled down and started behaving like a proper human being.
I woke up this morning to a complete mess. There was a bottle of whisky on the dining room table, the remains of a half-cooked early morning "man meal", lots of clothes, and the projector was showing Batman Begins. On repeat. I felt like I had regressed. And there were a load of women here whose names I could not (and cannot still) remember. Some (most) not properly dressed.
I woke up to an angry/amused wife. Wondering why there were some randoms passed out around me in our home.
E-mails (polite) show that I was kicked out of the Shangri-La for naked swimming and rowdiness. Uber XL receipt shows that I was not alone on the start of my short shamble home. A Hangover from Purgatory is now kicking around the empty remains of my skull.
I have just thrown the last of my new friends out and left them to the mercies of Uber. I have checked that nothing has been stolen. I have called the office so that I can work from home (i.e. head to the garden with a laptop, sunglasses and a bucket of ice/beers and pretend to be alive - whilst e-mailing my team to tell them that they should knock off at midday and stay in the pub). I feel like death.
The extent of saving my marriage has been along the lines of "I'm sorry Lady F - I love you and that's shown by the fact that these random girls got me home, and I didn't touch any of them in an inappropriate way - and look, they're all gone now!" And then running away.
War is hell, people. I hope that your weekends will be better than mine.
I woke up this morning to a complete mess. There was a bottle of whisky on the dining room table, the remains of a half-cooked early morning "man meal", lots of clothes, and the projector was showing Batman Begins. On repeat. I felt like I had regressed. And there were a load of women here whose names I could not (and cannot still) remember. Some (most) not properly dressed.
I woke up to an angry/amused wife. Wondering why there were some randoms passed out around me in our home.
E-mails (polite) show that I was kicked out of the Shangri-La for naked swimming and rowdiness. Uber XL receipt shows that I was not alone on the start of my short shamble home. A Hangover from Purgatory is now kicking around the empty remains of my skull.
I have just thrown the last of my new friends out and left them to the mercies of Uber. I have checked that nothing has been stolen. I have called the office so that I can work from home (i.e. head to the garden with a laptop, sunglasses and a bucket of ice/beers and pretend to be alive - whilst e-mailing my team to tell them that they should knock off at midday and stay in the pub). I feel like death.
The extent of saving my marriage has been along the lines of "I'm sorry Lady F - I love you and that's shown by the fact that these random girls got me home, and I didn't touch any of them in an inappropriate way - and look, they're all gone now!" And then running away.
War is hell, people. I hope that your weekends will be better than mine.
Harry Flashman said:
I have tried so very hard to grow up. My marriage is recent, I love my wife, I am renovating a house for us to move into, and I was thinking that at nearly 40, I'd settled down and started behaving like a proper human being.
I woke up this morning to a complete mess. There was a bottle of whisky on the dining room table, the remains of a half-cooked early morning "man meal", lots of clothes, and the projector was showing Batman Begins. On repeat. I felt like I had regressed. And there were a load of women here whose names I could not (and cannot still) remember. Some (most) not properly dressed.
I woke up to an angry/amused wife. Wondering why there were some randoms passed out around me in our home.
E-mails (polite) show that I was kicked out of the Shangri-La for naked swimming and rowdiness. Uber XL receipt shows that I was not alone on the start of my short shamble home. A Hangover from Purgatory is now kicking around the empty remains of my skull.
I have just thrown the last of my new friends out and left them to the mercies of Uber. I have checked that nothing has been stolen. I have called the office so that I can work from home (i.e. head to the garden with a laptop, sunglasses and a bucket of ice/beers and pretend to be alive - whilst e-mailing my team to tell them that they should knock off at midday and stay in the pub). I feel like death.
The extent of saving my marriage has been along the lines of "I'm sorry Lady F - I love you and that's shown by the fact that these random girls got me home, and I didn't touch any of them in an inappropriate way - and look, they're all gone now!" And then running away.
War is hell, people. I hope that your weekends will be better than mine.
I would check the end of your knob in a few days time before you make statements like that.I woke up this morning to a complete mess. There was a bottle of whisky on the dining room table, the remains of a half-cooked early morning "man meal", lots of clothes, and the projector was showing Batman Begins. On repeat. I felt like I had regressed. And there were a load of women here whose names I could not (and cannot still) remember. Some (most) not properly dressed.
I woke up to an angry/amused wife. Wondering why there were some randoms passed out around me in our home.
E-mails (polite) show that I was kicked out of the Shangri-La for naked swimming and rowdiness. Uber XL receipt shows that I was not alone on the start of my short shamble home. A Hangover from Purgatory is now kicking around the empty remains of my skull.
I have just thrown the last of my new friends out and left them to the mercies of Uber. I have checked that nothing has been stolen. I have called the office so that I can work from home (i.e. head to the garden with a laptop, sunglasses and a bucket of ice/beers and pretend to be alive - whilst e-mailing my team to tell them that they should knock off at midday and stay in the pub). I feel like death.
The extent of saving my marriage has been along the lines of "I'm sorry Lady F - I love you and that's shown by the fact that these random girls got me home, and I didn't touch any of them in an inappropriate way - and look, they're all gone now!" And then running away.
War is hell, people. I hope that your weekends will be better than mine.
Heh. Sitting on my lawn and pretending to work, whilst drinking cold Hoegaarden and shouting "WIFE" through the doors at regular intervals is much more fun than it should be.
Especially when said wife keeps giving me the finger while trying to do conference calls.
I f
king love being married.
Especially when said wife keeps giving me the finger while trying to do conference calls.
I f
king love being married.If I go out and get slaughtered, now, at 44, I'm done for until lunch. however will still often be up early. just incapable of doing much.
my wife at 35 is useless. a girls night out for her may render her incapable for the full day after, even 2 days once.
Thus I'm always ok and forgiven, in comparison to her. high moral ground: oh yes.
my wife at 35 is useless. a girls night out for her may render her incapable for the full day after, even 2 days once.
Thus I'm always ok and forgiven, in comparison to her. high moral ground: oh yes.
austinsmirk said:
If I go out and get slaughtered, now, at 44, I'm done for until lunch. however will still often be up early. just incapable of doing much.
my wife at 35 is useless. a girls night out for her may render her incapable for the full day after, even 2 days once.
Thus I'm always ok and forgiven, in comparison to her. high moral ground: oh yes.
Wait until you get over 50. If I get properly bladdered now I have a hangover that lasts five days and hurts more than you could possibly believe.my wife at 35 is useless. a girls night out for her may render her incapable for the full day after, even 2 days once.
Thus I'm always ok and forgiven, in comparison to her. high moral ground: oh yes.
Harry Flashman said:
Heh. Sitting on my lawn and pretending to work, whilst drinking cold Hoegaarden and shouting "WIFE" through the doors at regular intervals is much more fun than it should be.
Especially when said wife keeps giving me the finger while trying to do conference calls.
I fking love being married.
Enjoy the beer and for God's sake do not - repeat DO NOT - reply to tell us all that you have just had 3 hours of amazing filthy dirty sex.Especially when said wife keeps giving me the finger while trying to do conference calls.
I f
king love being married.TD
Edited for the sake of self preservation
Edited by TorqueDirty on Saturday 6th August 09:14
So, I was in the Shangi-La last night and this guy with half a dozen new girlfriends...
I take some comfort from your story, having awoken yesterday in the spare room trying desperately to remember who I had told SWMBO I was out with the previous night, surrounded by receipts for cocktails, but i don't think a pool was involved!
Absolute respect HF!
I take some comfort from your story, having awoken yesterday in the spare room trying desperately to remember who I had told SWMBO I was out with the previous night, surrounded by receipts for cocktails, but i don't think a pool was involved!
Absolute respect HF!
Gassing Station | The Lounge | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff