http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife Sat, 04 Apr 2026 14:39:05 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1727/diary-of-a-crap-wife-crapwife-cure-for-man-flu-blogging-blackout-over-at-last http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1727 It's been a really shit few days. Husband is ill; He thinks he has the flu, I think it's a cold because if it was the flu he wouldn't be putting up martyr shelves in the hope of a sympathy shag.
If I so much as roll my eyes when he groans, sighs or sniffles he's straight on my case telling me 'it's dangerous to underestimate serious illnesses.' He claims that I taught him this last week, but I don't remember. He looks smug when he says it and I wonder if he's taking the piss. He's right though. I should definitely should take his sickness more seriously. I decide to help diagnose him. 'Husband, are you cold?'
'Babe, I have flu, I'm boiling.'
Not hypothermia, then.
'Can you stand on up without pain?'
He can, so his legs aren't broken. I'm at a bit of a loss.
'Don't worry, Husband, I'll look up your symptoms on the internet.'
' DO NOT look up medical stuff on the internet. Stay away from WebMD. I forbid you.' While flicking through WebMD I unearth a startling discovery. 'Don't do that face!'
'What face?' I ask.
'Your startling discovery face. You don't have whatever you think you have and you're not dying- don't start this again.' Husband is being overly dramatic because I last year I wrongly diagnosed myself with prostate cancer and got a bit upset. It was ONE time and it's an easy mistake to make. I tell him that this was ONE TIME and that he's a pleb. 'Babe, only last week you thought you caught hypothermia from the paddling pool...' I'm too stunned to speak. It's worse than I thought. I have no idea what he's talking about. Husband is delusional already. 'What's that on your neck?' I ask him.
'A shaving spot' He's looking at me with suspicion. 'You've got that look in your eye. What have you read? Whatever it is, you don't have it, you won't get it and you're not dying- do not get the WebMD'noids, I can't be arsed with it, I've got the flu.'
He hasn't got the flu.
And he just called me paranoid. It's probably the fever talking. I gaze lovingly at Husband for a full four minutes before he gets annoyed and goes to bed. I will miss him when he's gone.
Two hours into his coma I take him a bowl of herb soup. 'What's this and why have you got a tea towel over your face?' he asks, without as much as a thank-you.
'Protecting my face from hayfever.' he's too weak for the truth.
'Why is therepot-pourrioutside the bedroom door?'
'Because you smell.' Husband doesn't question this, he knows that I think that men smell of poo. I bought some honey and almond showergelrecently and now he smells like someone shit on a toblerone. Husband staggers downstairs after a 4 hour coma; I set off the bell sound effects app on my iPhone to alert the neighbours he's on the move.
'What are you doing? Why are you wearing your funeral dress?' he asks ( I suspect the end is near so I changed earlier to save time.) 'Why are you burning incense? It smells like a fucking opium den in here. Why have you turned the phone bill into a pot-pourri cone?' I read online that in the 1400's burned incense and inhaled herbs to prevent infection.
'Why is there a red cross on the back door? How the fuck am I going to get that off.......?' I haven't the heart to tell him that such things won't matter in the afterlife.
'Oh my fucking God. You're pretending I've got the Plague. Stop it. Be normal. Stop pretending I have the bubonic plague.' I can't hear him because I'm deep in prayer. 'Wife, seriously- stop chanting, I'm not dying, you're not a grieving widow and I don't have the black death- it's just a fucking cold!'
Ha. I knew it wasn't flu.

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]]> Thu, 21 Apr 2011 15:43:45 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1718/how-could-you-do-this-to-me-ceri-shaw http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1718
I found Dave Garland Jones through Americymru.net, I fell for his hair... then his earring, Then You aint seen Ruthin yet. I couldn't take my eyes from the screen; I watched him online, Fighting wars for his art form, He's ahead of his time. Excited by the Geography (he lives close to me,) I will start a Scrap Book and call it... The Life of Davie-G. I was on YouTube for hours, hes had thousands of views, If I could just maybe once meet him, Would he make me his muse? I dont love him in a that way, Im not attracted you see... But his failings are irresistible... To a stalker, like me. The bus stops about a mile from the great DGJs home, I sit and wait there for hours... Hoping Dave lives alone. I leave down-right dejected.Dave Garland Jones is not in. But it was nowhere near a wasted journey, I found souvenirs... in his bin. I feel my confidence soaring, on the tail my toil, I log on to watch him on youtube... My blood starts to boil. The reason (I hear you asking) is Ceri Bloody Shaw, Trying to lure Dave to America, The betrayal is raw. While Dave's songs and sketches pierced my heart like a knife... Ceri was scheming from Portland, To take him from my life. I dont know how Ill continue, in the face of this blow, Who can I stalk in his absence? 'Cause Daves sure to go. It's not even like I can follow, the thought fills me with fright, At one thousand pounds sterling... I can't afford the flight. I can live, pray and dream as fate rolls its dice And that Dave will come back from LA one day... Treforests quite nice. In the meantime I am left with YouTube for a friend, Daves no doubt packing his suitcase, A/C will have got him in the end. So I hope you enjoy him, Americymru.net Be sure to tell him that I love him, please... ...dont let him forget. CrapWife.
]]> Fri, 15 Apr 2011 21:44:08 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1717/diary-of-a-crap-wife-hypothermia-can-kill-wikipedia-tells-me-so http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1717 Glare and two fingers. Two pieces of toast then? Honey?
I like honey, so I nod. My mood improves as I read get well soon messages on twitter from people who understand how ill I am. Husband promptly ruins this mood by whistling. When we got married, I drew up a list of rules; one of them prohibited whistling before midday. Husband seems to have forgotten this rule, along with many of the others, including: No pissing in wardrobes no matter how drunk you are No asking for sex for a month if England beat Wales, Scotland or Ireland in any sporting event , including synchronised swimming, archery and bowls.
My fingers and toes are still a turquoisey blue, and if I stand in the garden in my pyjamas I start shivering again. This is proof that I have hypothermia. Husband sees me shivering and tells me to come in before I... and I quote, ...catch a sniffle?
Sniffle? I have hypothermia! A sniffle is something made up by parents to make kids do their anoraks up... or to explain to strangers why their offspring drips snot... I have a potentially life threatening condition caused directly by his cheating on me with animals. I would tell him all this, but Im not speaking to him. This is nice, we get to spend some time together before I leave now. Howre you feeling? he asks.
Babe? Howre you feeling? he asks again. Ive tried, I really have, but my will to speak is too strong:
I feel like shit, I have hypothermia and you arent taking me seriously. I tell him.
I am taking you seriously, but babe, youve got a sniffle because you got wet and youre grumpy because youre tired.
Grumpy? Im not grumpy; Im having an emotional breakdown caused by ice shards in my brain. I hate it when he plays things down.Hypothermia can cause all sorts of medical complications- I looked it up on Wikipedia. By the time Husband returned from work last night I had fashioned my office chair into a passable replica of Stephen (God amongst men) Hawkings wheelchair. I accomplished this using duct tape, straws, a digital photo frame, some bamboo canes and the waste hose from the washing machine. This exercise was designed to give Husband a glimpse of the consequences involved when not taking potentially life threatening complaints seriously. If the wheelchair didnt do it, the voice changer app on my iphone certainly hit home. Judging by the look on his face, Husband will be more sympathetic in future. I would like to quickly draw your attention to the 'pet names needed' button above this post- please click and share with me your ideas for embarrassing pet names for me to call him in public. There are some crackers there so far... Sunday lunch at my mother's is shaping up to be a colourful affair. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife
]]> Fri, 15 Apr 2011 15:27:35 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1716/diary-of-a-crap-wife-heres-to-you-miss-havisham-stay-away-from-the-light http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1716 Wife, you dont have hypothermia, youre a just a bit cold because you were being mental in the garden wearing your fucking wedding dress.
A quick Google of the symptoms confirms that yes, I have hypothermia. Youre shivering because youre still wearing your wedding dress and your extremities arent turning blue, youve painted your bloody toe and fingernails turquoise. This is beside the point. I have pins and needles and Im woozy. I fear the end is near. Maybe if you went and changed instead of standing there like Miss Havisham youd feel better. The similarity is uncanny; its 20 to nine and Ive spent all day training the dog to hate men. Hes probably right about the getting changed thing though, but Alas! I am too weak. Better to have a rest on the kitchen floor instead, I decide. Babe, get up, youre dripping everywhere. he says, stepping over me. Woe- I can barely hear you speak, Husband; my energies are concentrated upon staying away from the light. Each word is a struggle for me. Wife, your veil is stuck to your ears and the light is from the fridge, Im making dinner. Get up. Hmm. I am hungry; no doubt a side effect from the hypothermia. Why are you so dramatic? Is this about that Gin thing?
So he admits it then, eh? My dearest Husband, oh my weary love, I am in much psychic pain- I am finding it troublesome trying to come to terms with your infidelity... And Im not fucking dramatic.
How are you not dramatic? Ive come home tonight to find my wife bobbing in the paddling pool in her wedding dress with our first dance song blasting from the conservatory. And now youre trying to speak all Dickensy- How is that not dramatic???

You lack the tools to understand the complexities of my wounded heart... I say, eyes rolling as death nears. When I emerge from my brush with death and see that hes ignoring me and chopping tomatoes I decide to be the bigger person. Husband is clearly ashamed of his recent indiscretion and his refusal to pander to me is obviously because he feels so guilty. Plus, I really am fucking freezing. I head upstairs to change. After screaming for nearly3 whole minutes Husband is eventually there like a flash. He doesn't seem concerned by my distress and suggests that my skull isnt actually bleeding and that perhaps the blood is seepage from my latest home hair dye attempt. Im not convinced. Over dinner, he brings up Gin. I tell him that Im not ready to hear him speak the name of that slag pasty and clutch my heart to indicate that it still hurts. Slag pasty? I cant answer as unfortunately I seem to have fainted. You said slag pasty? Gin the slag pasty? As in Ginsters pasty? he thinks he's fucking Columbo. Did I? I cant recall; my memorys patchy which is probably due to the hypothermia or the bleeding skull . Are you telling me that youve been accusing me of cheating and floating in the paddling pool in your wedding dress because I ate a steak bake? he asks. Betrayal is betrayal flowerpot, you made me be a vegetarian so in your face. I reply. Oh my fucking God. Firstly, the vegetarianism was your idea. Secondly, I only ate meat in work because I found a 4 pack of Peperami behind the DVDs and some wafer thin ham under the sofa on day 1 of usbeing veggie! I was playing you at your own game. he's riled.

I have no idea how they got there and I resent the accusation. Hes gone a bit red and hes speaking quite loudly, it looks like Husband might be about to break... Youre mad, babe, I love you. He says, finally. What? Thats it? Ive caught hypothermia and told my mother hes cheated on me and thats it? This is what really gets on my tits about Husband. Doesnt matter what I do, how I do it, how mental I act- hes never any closer to breaking than when I first married him. Sometimes I dont know why I bother. Husband went to bed happy, his patience had miraculously rejuvenated. He even attacked the bedtime challenges with renewed vigour, throwing a new move- the figure of 8- into the naked cock dance recital. As I watched Husband hum the theme tune to Neighbours and perform the helicopter, his willy wind-milling furiously like the hands on Jodie Marshs body clock, I realised that Im going to have to try harder to break him. I think its time to buy a video camera, don't you? YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Thu, 14 Apr 2011 18:12:21 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1713/diary-of-a-crap-wife-being-a-better-wife-when-husbands-cheat-silent-witness http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1713 Practically an admission of guilt. Yet I still love him. Yes hes cheated, yes hes betrayed me, but Im really fat, I cant afford to be back on the shelf- health and safety would have a fit. I manage to stop dry crying long enough to order the shopping online. Sainsburys is taunting me and every thank you message feels like a knife to the heart. Its not just Husbands betrayal that is hurting... Sainsburys and I go back years- I do 6 big shops with Tescos and it sets my Husband up with a Ginsters Slag-Pasty; hardly fair. Its probably somehow my fault though, maybe if I brushed my hair more often this wouldnt have happened? Perhaps if I used my immac on my bikini line instead of putting it in his baldness cure lotion...? I suppose I shouldnt really have deleted the Matrix from our V+ to make room for John Bishop with his beautiful floppy hair and plus size teeth? I must change to save our marriage. I will be a better wife and remind him why he loves me. Husband texts while Im polishing the skirting boards: Hows u r day going? Busy cleaning and being a good wife and stuff. Please dont leave me. Wtf r u on about? I am not going to leave u and I havent cheated. I have evidence. I understand tho, its all my fault, I see that now, Ill be a better wife. Babe, seriously, what r u on about? I decide to stop being cryptic and confront him directly about the Ginsters slag-pasty: I know about Gin. Was she worth it? I dont even know anyone called Gin. Why r u being mental?' Not being mental, have proof. Dont worry, will be a better wife so that you dont stray again. Im sorry and I love you etc. Not cheated. Dont know Gin. No idea what u r on about. Love u the way u r- dont go all fucking alter ego on me, Ive had a hard day.
Alter ego? Me??? Ok. Love you Husband. Lets forget this and save our marriage. Going to weed the garden (even though it hurts my knee) so that you have less to do. FFS. Leave the plants alone, and dont be mental in the garden, the neighbours already think were weird.
Hmph. After cleaning the house I decide that theres no better way to remind Husband how much he loves me than by resurrecting one of the Old Faithful games he so enjoys. I think that the Silent Witness is probably his favourite (where I pretend to be a corpse and He has guess what killed me) so I set about planning my death. Why Husband is pissed off when he gets home is beyond me. Im the victim in all this! The house is clean and I went to loads of effort to make the Silent Witness game really convincing. It might be that he doesnt like the smell of Zoflora? It could be that he may have accidently thought I was actually dead for a few seconds? Or it may be, as he put it, that I was being mental in the garden again when he specifically told me not to. Either way, he won the Silent Witness game in record time by correctly guessing that Id drowned in the paddling pool while wearing my wedding dress. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER @CrapWife ]]> Wed, 13 Apr 2011 13:04:59 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1710/diary-of-a-crap-wife-ill-have-his-meat-balls-for-earrings-jersey-boys-and-migraines http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1710 Tue, 12 Apr 2011 13:04:32 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1701/diary-of-a-crap-wife-pimms-round-the-pool-audition-for-x-factor http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1701 Yeah, I know, I was going to actually.
I think youd be really brilliant babe. You should definitely start a band. You should do it and then go on X Factor. Sarky little bastard.
Does he honestly think Im stupid enough to parade my rotting vocal chords on telly and humiliate myself by sounding like Mariah Carey getting raped? Babe, Im being serious, you were brilliant, you should do it, you should sing that REM song that you practiced yesterday. Theyd love it. Sarky little bastard.
He does not know who hes messing with. On a separate note: Something very weird has happened; The front door lock has been filled with chewing gum. I have no idea who would commit such a wanton act of vandalism but suspect the robbers who stole Husbands clothes may be to blame. In truth, it is but a minor inconvenience, my cousin will be able to fix it next week when hes back from holidays. In the meantime, any visitors can use the back gate which will give them a lovely view of our garden and swimming pool, so no real hardship. On another unrelated note: Friday is going to be a very busy day for me. I am meeting an artist, and we will be discussing illustrations for the blog- Ill be gone all day, so sadly, Husband shall be spending the first day of his 3 day weekend alone. Advert: POOL CLEANER REQUIRED: Single man with learning difficulties requires pool boy to take over maintenance of garden pool. Must be young, enthusiastic and reliable. Client suffers from frequent short term memory loss & needs someone who is sensitive and patient. Client also partially deaf, Will be necessary to speak louder than is usual when interacting. Excellent rates of pay, health and dental insurance, holiday entitlement and use of vehicle provided. Contact ###### (carer) on: tel.########### to arrange an interview, or attend interview open day on Friday 8 th , April between 1-6pm. Advert: ****DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES?**** ********** BAND AUDITIONS: *********** Music producer requires 4 piece boy band for reality TV show. Auditions to be held at private address, pls note entire process will be filmed by hidden cameras. Do you know how 'not to take NO for an answer'?- Only most determined & confident artists need apply and we have designed our audition process to find them. Dress to impress and remember, you are on camera from start to finish- DO NOT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER...make sure you stand out. Audition Open day 18/04/2011 2-7pm at ## ######## ##, ##### #####, #####, ###### email: ############@gmail.com YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Wed, 06 Apr 2011 18:33:48 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1699/diary-of-a-crap-wife-it-aint-over-til-the-fat-lady-sings-everybody-hurts-sometimes http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1699 This simply isnt true.
You made me eat a ball of garlic cheese thatd been in your Nannas handbag for 18 hours.
(I decide not to tell him that my Grandparents have since read the blog and rang to advise that it was more like 22 hours because they were caught in traffic at by Leigh Delemare service station. Or that it had been sat on the windowsill of their hotel room for 48 hours prior to this.) I cant believe youre blaming Nanna for this Husband, she carried that cheese all the way home for you- youre not even allowed to bring foreign food stuff back into the UK, she could have been jailed. Why are you being like this? I question. Im not blaming Nanna, Im blaming you. says Husband
Potato/potatoe, were related. says I.
Fine, lets see if she has another ball of cheese and you eat it then? Husband looks smug. Ooooh youd love that wouldnt you? Me to eat a ball of cheese and get even fatter. You just dont want anyone to fancy me; youre trying to make me fatter so that no one fancies me.
(No-ones actually fancied me since 2004.) Youre a pleb. He tells me.
Im shocked, as that usually works. Husband goes back to bed with a book and I set about tidying the house (not out of guilt.) I find that the cleaning is enjoyable today and before I know it,I'vehoovered(not out of guilt) mopped the floors (not out of guilt) and made a batch of 'non vegetarian made with actual chicken' broth (not out of guilt.) Husband seems really thrilled with my efforts, especially with the soup which he says, and I quote, is just what the Doctor ordered.
I am pleased that were finally reaching a truce, as Im finding being blamed for another persons crimes a terrible burden which is no good for my chi. I dont know what made me mention the chicken arse while he supped the soup, but as Husband vomited the truce onto my nice clean floor, I realised immediately that it had been a mistake. In an effort to make light of the situation and recapture the sentiment of the truce, I joke: Oh, dont worry; at least you didnt throw up on the cat. Admitidley, this isnt the funniest line Ive ever quipped, but Husbands a simple creature and its enough to make sick come out of his nose. There is no greater horror than watching the one you married vomit through their nose. Suffice to say that the truce is off. Husband believes that this was a deliberate act of sabotage on my part. I am totally mortified that Husband thinks I would do such a thing, and I tell him so. I am totally crushed that you think I would do such a thing.
You posted all my clothes back to me- second class ; youre capable of anything. He says. There you go, bringing up the past again... They only arrived this morning! You still bip at me for forgetting to put the bins out on our wedding night. (I had left a note reminding him, which he ignored.) I can see that Husband isnt in the right frame of mind to listen to reason and suggest that he goes back to bed to think about what hes done. This doesnt seem to go down well and he slams the door on his way out- I think this may be domestic abuse but Im not sure. Thankfully, my mother is somewhat of an authority on this as she sits on a domestic abuse forum-unbelievably, shes more concerned about Husband than me. She suggests that I reread my blog, I tell her I dont have time as Ive got to redo the floor. I am very hurt and upset about Husbands very low opinion of me (especially when Ive tried to be so helpful.) I decide to play Xbox to perk myself up. Being as I spent so long organising things this morning (not out of guilt,) I am able to locate the batteries for the karaoke mikes instantly. Given that Im such a perfectionist, I decide to pick one song and practise it before trying others and starting a band. By my eleventh rendition of R.E.Ms heart wrencher Everybody Hurts Husband has had enough time to realise that No , he didnt have to eat the cheese, making it his fault he's sick, and Yes , I was only trying to cheer him up when I made him laugh while he vomited.
That, my friends, is what marriage is all about. Communication. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY clicking here CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife
]]> Tue, 05 Apr 2011 17:42:16 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1695/diary-of-a-crap-wife-twilight-antidote-the-postman-always-rings-twice http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1695 Senior social media strategist 55-65k, London http: ############# crapwife crap wife
@ cloudninerec Is it worth applying with a couple of GCSEs and a certificate in food hygiene that I bought off a Harvester grill chef? Cloudninerec steve ward
@ crapwife Sadly probably not, and oh - you wasted your money on the food & hygiene certificate... crapwife crap wife
@ cloudninerec Hi Steve- just to let you know I've swapped my food hygiene for a City and Guilds in reflexology- does this change anything? He said no, theres just nothing out there for me at the moment. I was very ill on Sunday. It would seem that sometime during the course of the evening I contracted MRSA. My first clue about this came when I woke to find my tongue had been stuck to my pillow. This is not, as Husband suggested, red wine dehydration. It seems that pillowcases with an above 600 thread count act as a Velcro when in contact with the tongue. I tell Husband to find me the phone number for Egypts cotton Minister so that I can complain. Being Mothers Day we go visiting. My Grandparents have just returned from Amsterdam and they have bought me presents. I am very pleased with the Delft ashtray and 100 fags, less so with the ball of garlic cheese that spent 18 hours in Nanny's handbag on the return journey. Having a fag with my Grandparents is one of lifes little pleasures, never before on the planet have two people managed to tangle so much randomness into a ball and call it conversation. They are possibly the funniest people I know. They make me feel like a kid- even at 28 my Nanna tries to dress me and do my hair. Though careful not to mention it in front of the Husband, they are avidly following the blog. I dont know what my Nanna thinks blog means, but its her new favourite word. She phoned me last week to ask me to blog her over a photo of the garden, and then told me she was going to have a blog on the online bingo before dinner. My Grandfather has said that Im not allowed to quote anything they say without paying them royalties, but Im hoping theyll be too busy trying to buy a blog Argos to read this. Also following the blog are my parents, who arrive shortly after we do. Unfortunately, I have to distance myself from my mother today as once again as she looks stunning and next to her I look like a Kosovan Refugee who ate a 4x4.My mother was born in 1961 which is the same year as the Berlin wall was built. She stopped aging in 1989, which iscoincidentallywhen it came down.I dont mind being seen next to my Dad, (or Silver Fox as we call him) next to him my grey hairs are barely noticeable . After discovering that my Uncle (who lives opposite) is out shopping and moulding the builders sand on his driveway into a large penis, we head home. Now I think about it, this was definitely a mistake. The Uncle in question is a nightmare- this is a man who once used a forklift truck to put someones mini in a skip because they stuck a key to his Diahatsu and called it a Noddy car. Compared to him Im an amateur. Hes vowed to get me back and I spent the rest of my day drawing up a battle plan just in case he does. The night-time challenges resumed last night. If you want to get into bed you have to eat the whole ball of garlic cheese.
We like garlic and we like cheese(we've even been known to like the two together) but this cheese is like nothing Ive encountered- if Id have had the foresight to post it to Edward Cullen, there wouldnt have been a Twilight series. Husband hasnt gone to work this morning and I feel a little bit guilty. He was up all night throwing up after eating the cheese and he looks like shit today. He finally managed to sleep around 4am, shattered and feeling very sorry for himself. This is why is hasn't spoken to me since 7.15am, which is when the Postman woke him up to delivery his clothes. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY clicking here CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife
]]> Mon, 04 Apr 2011 16:04:49 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1689/diary-of-a-crap-wife-waiter-waiter-i-have-a-little-accident http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1689 Theres an arse in my soup and it touched my mouth.
You are taking the bloody piss. Hes not good when hes sleepy. After showing Husband the arse and crying a bit, he was able to see that it was all his fault and that none of this would have happened if hed just given me my fags. He must have felt pretty shitty about it because he made me some tea and gave me a foot-rub. We didnt stay up too long as Husband was freezing due to only having swimming shorts to use as pyjamas so we returned to bed where I dreamed that I was given the Spanish Armada as a birthday present. During one of my hourly burglar checks I got my tit stuck in the venetian blind which led to more distresed noises and crying- by morning its fair to say we were knackered. Husband was off work all day due to his new fangled shift patterns and if you ask me its a fucking blessing. His clothes still havent arrived and hes today wearing a sleeveless vest with some shell-suit bottoms. I can once again see his knob. Husband believes that this is because its got bigger. I tell him thats hes probably right as itcouldn'thave got any fucking smaller. I'mnot good when Im sleepy either. Husband and I reach an uneasy truce around Midday when he tells me that hes sorry about the fags. I tell him that I too am sorry for not preventing his clothes from getting robbed. We have a cuddle and a cup of tea and throw the soup sachets in the bin together. I feel calmer knowing theyre not in the house anymore. Late afternoon and were starving. Were only going to Tesco when absolutely necessary at the moment and Husband offers to pop to the Co-op. Our local Co-op is a marvellous place, alright the prices are extortionate and they prey on the loyalties of pensioners, but the staff are generally wonderful. I have never known a shop that will go so far to help a customer in need. Husband has been gone about 10 minutes before I ring the Co-op. Hello Co-op, this is Linda speaking, how may I help? Hello Linda, I hope you can, strange request but Im in a bit of a tizzy. My son has just popped down to your shop for some essentials and Ive had a bit of an accident. Are you okay? asks Linda, she sounds nice. Im fine, its just my age. Ive tried to ring his mobile telephone but hes left it here and I desperately need to get a message to him, I was hoping you d be able to find him and pass it on? If you think it would help my love, of course. Whats his name and whats the message? His names ###### ######, hes wearing one of those shelly suits thats all the rage. Just tell him that his Mam has had one of her accidents- hes going to need to pick up some tenna-lady super absorbent, bleach, a new mop head and a twix. If you could do that, my love, Id be ever so grateful. Right... no problem, dont you worry- Ill call him over the tannoy and then give him the message myself. Rest up til he gets home now.
Husband bought me 40 fags. Hes a fast learner. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Sat, 02 Apr 2011 10:31:36 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1685/diary-of-a-crap-wife-thats-just-soupa-relationship-status-seperated http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1685 I think Husbands mad. Im starting to worry about the clothes situation. He made it quite clear that I was to make sure that his wardrobe was full again by the end of the day. After phoning the Royal Mail and being advised that delivery will be made within 2-4 working days, I had to swiftly come up with a plan to fill his empty wardrobe.
To my relief, my beautiful (ginger) niece has left her pencil case here and I was able to draw pictures of all the missing clothes and blu-tack them to coat hangers. Dodged a bullet there, I think youll agree. Husband arrives home late from work in a delightful mood considering I didnt attend his work lunch. He says that his Uni clothes were a huge hit and that he told everyone what had happened with my eye and they all send their best. Peachy. Compared to his, my mood is admitidly a little less delightful- I attribute this to my mortal wound as my eye is actually, properly, not-even-joking hurting. And I cant see facebook without squinting. Add me here Husband, to his credit offers to run me a Radox bath to ease my stresses and go to the shop to replenish my cigarette supply as I have self medicated the eye with nicotine and run out. Everyone knows that theres no better cure for stress than a soak in water than smells like a synthetic jungle and a fag. My mood quickly improves as overall Im pleased. Ive managed to side step the humiliation of being seen in public with him and have resolved to change my facebook status to separated in order to detach myself from him while his clothes are missing. Just as soon as I can see it properly again. After a blissful 40 minutes in the bath, drinking red wine and savouring my last ciggie, I hear Husband opening his wardrobe in the spare room. Wow he says, hes clearly impressed with the art work, although in hindsight, this may just as easily have been Cow. By the time I emerge from the bath, (thoroughly soaked and looking like Gloria Hunifords knee) Husband is in bed. Bless him; hes had a long day. Im pleased that hes asleep because itll give me time to colour my drawings in. I am, however, less pleased with the drawing of 20 Marlboro Lights hes left on the coffee table. CU. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Fri, 01 Apr 2011 14:43:24 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1682/diary-of-a-crap-wife-weve-been-robbed-roadrunner-1 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1682 Thu, 31 Mar 2011 15:46:27 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1678/diary-of-a-crap-wife-special-delivery-for-husband-he-called-me-fat http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1678 Wed, 30 Mar 2011 12:41:13 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1675/diary-of-a-crap-wife-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-your-dinners-in-the-dog http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1675 Were out of milk. I say clutching the empty bottle to my chest and holding my hand to my grief stricken head dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum What are you doing. Nothing Husband ignores the sound bite and gets changed, he's in a cracking mood as I've promised him a chilled out night on the sofa and a really nice meal as during the gardening marathon home cooked fare was been off the cards along with all his favourites foods as his Mum's a veggie. Husbands a bit scared of vegetarians. His mother hasnt eaten meat since he was about 8 and the thought of a return to vegetarianism strikes fear into his beef clogged heart. I think I'll leave him watch a film on his own as I'm shattered from fighting yet another migrane today. My migraines have gathered momentum in the last few months. Mother in Law says that she noticed a huge difference in her own battle against the demon headaches after cutting meat and alcohol from her diet. I decide to bring this up: Babe, Ive felt so ill for such a long time, Ive decided that something has to be done. I have been thinking about it all day, and Ive concluded that, to see if it helps......(dramatic pause)....... Im going to become a vegetarian. dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum Do you really think it wou- dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum Stop doing that, its really fu- dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum Look, if you think its going to help you then Ill do it with you, I hate to see you ill, dont get me wrong, I wont enjoy it, but if it makes you feel better, Ill help. Says the sweetest man in the World. Im so happy you understand Husband, I know that you love meat, but I really think this could be good for us for a while, we need to start being more health conscious anyway and if it helps my headaches, thats got to be worth it, hasnt it? Yeah, ok, starting when? says poor, starving Husband. I can see him visibly shrinking in front of my eyes as the joy leaves his body. I had promised him a steak tonight, and when He phoned from work earlier I told him about the two monster fillets I had found reduced in Morrisons. Ive made a lentil soup for dinner, so no time like the present. I had some earlier though, so youre eating alone. I fed those steaks to the animals, they loved them. Would you do me the honour of....(down on one knee).... Joining me in a cup of barley squash? dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum Husband settles down to his lentil soup- nutritionally fantastic but a tad low on taste, I should know, I made it myself- I found a recipe online and omitted anything that looked like it could add flavour.Husband looks heartbroken. The lentil soup really does look like shite. I'm just glad I had that fillet steak, babyleaf salad and glass of bordeax before he got home. dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum
YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Tue, 29 Mar 2011 01:15:44 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1672/diary-of-a-crap-wife-regaine-refrain-and-rethink-theres-a-storm-brewing http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1672 Twitters not helping. Ever since I started this blog, Ive been trying to get round Twitter and I still dont understand it. From what I can gather, its like faceboo k with only status updates Im totally stumped- what the hell am I supposed to write on t here? I have had more people follow me around the pub to tell me Ive got loo roll hanging from my leggings than I currently have on Twitter, and it takes me 20 minutes to decipher what people are saying.
The lack of vowels people use, owing to the character count, had me thinking for the first week that Id stumbled upon Polish Facebook. Its making me feel old and out of touch. Granted- being sat in the garden writing this with a tartan blanket over my knees isnt helping matters, but still, I blame the technology.
Speaking of which, the laptop has 100% got Aids now.This morning it coughed as I booted it and started making noises like Chloe Mafias dildo, I fear the end is near so if you dont hear from me for a while its because Im burying it (maybe Ill ring Gary Mole.)
Theres little to report on the campaign to break him at the moment, after the awful cock-money fiasco I feel that the only way to succeed is to plan something major that he cant ignore/rise above/turn on me.
I will keep you posted.
In the meantime, I have created what I believe to be a fool proof plan which should really hit him where it hurts- his hair.Husband has been going bald for about 6 years now and has for a long time been shaving his head.The introduction of Regaine onto the marketplace has offered him a glimmer of hope that he thought was long gone.Im pleased for him as his bald spot becomes highly reflective under the halogen spots in the kitchen. His Regaine has been left unopened in the bathroom cabinet for the last week has hes been too busy to commit to the routine involved. This has worked in my favour as he doesnt yet know what to expect from the solution. In this time, I have transferred the follicle enhancing elixir into an old jam jar and replaced it with a mixture consisting of 60% water, 30% hair removal cream and 10% Johnsons Holiday Skin. Im hoping, after a twice a day application over the coming months he will be left with a dome like head that looks like one of Jordan's tits. I couldnt give a shit if he doesnt like it, Ill give him some cock-money to buy a hat.
YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife
]]> Sun, 27 Mar 2011 17:17:32 +0100 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1671/diary-of-a-crap-wife-i-think-youll-find-thats-legal-tender-happy-effing-birthday http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1671 As Ive already babbled on about, the garden is well on its way to completion and the overall effect is stunning- Ive started viewing the pond as a fabulous water feature and stopped thinking of it as a failed hole, this has been very liberating, and although still not zen-like, Im happy and content. The break neck speed at which the garden is being tackled is mesmerising, by the time Id decorated my wellies the beds were already down and edged. Mother in law charged me with the very important job of counting seeds into piles, which Husband couldnt be trusted with. Maybe theyll make a gardener of me yet? Not known for my dedication to a task I was bored quickly and decided it best to get to the Post Office to send the Blue Peter letter. This is where the day turned to shit. One thing guaranteed to piss me off on a sunny afternoon is old biddies tutting. Im sure that when a woman hits her late sixties shes whisked away to a weekend retreat, probably in the Lake District, where shes taught the lost arts of tutting, sighing and causing injury with a wheeled shopping basket. Ive no real proof of what these women keep in these gaudy looking contraptions but I imagine it to be pilfered sugar sachets, tenna lady and the souls of under 30s theyve tutted to death. The pissy knickers brigade was out in force, the queue at the Post Office smelled of urine, biscuits and parma violets. I dont think it was pension day so they were probably posting letters to long lost relations who had the good sense to emigrate or writing to Terry Wogan about sexy adverts and the news. Either way, they were all in the Post Office as I popped in to post Husbands pictures to Blue Peter. I should point out at that this is the first time Ive ever written to the show; I always hated it as a child and felt that the extra 30 minutes of learning they tried to disguise as entertainment at the end of the school day was both unfair and transparent. They also gave us Anthea fucking Turner. Because Ive never written to them before and am unsure of protocol, I make the error of deciding to send the letter by recorded delivery. By the time I reached the front of the queue, I had a tidy coven of biddies filing behind me tutting and clucking about the price of stamps and kidney stones. It wasnt until I pulled out a twenty with a massive black cock drawn onto it that I realised my mistake. Never, ever leave the house without checking for Acme traps. Pol Pot the postal worker loudly informed me that: The Currency and Bank Notes Act 1928 says If any person prints, or stamps, or by any means impresses, on any bank note any words, letters or figures, he shall, in respect of each offence, be liable on summary conviction to a penalty not exceeding one pound.
The penalty was changed to 25 pounds in 1977 (Criminal Law Act, s.31) and to 200 pounds in 1982 (Criminal Justice Act, s.46).
Who died and made her the fucking money police? She shouted loudly about youngsters who watch too much Dirty Sancho (San c hez who I like)and Jackos (Jack ass, who I don't) and think its funny to play practical jokes.

It took me fifteen minutes of back peddling, denial and a 20 charitable donation to the RNLI to calm the situation. By this is time, the tutting brigade were in fine fettle clicking their tongues like a visiting African Tribe. My patience had melted away and there, in amongst the stationary and wrapping paper, stood a seriously mortified Crap Wife. (Of course I accept no responsibility for the failure of this prank and fully blame the person who suggested cock-money via facebook.) I dont know if the defaced money had been an act of deliberate sabotage on Husbands part, there is a chance that he hadnt looked at the notes before putting them in my purse- either way, I have had a taste of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of one of these pranks. I would love to say that this has encouraged me to drop my campaign of terror, but it hasnt. As soon as his mother goes home, hes dead. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife
]]> Sat, 26 Mar 2011 16:09:32 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1665/diary-of-a-crap-wife-zombies-volcanos-and-nuclear-bombs-the-garden-looks-lovely http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1665 My name is ###### and my special friend thinks I deserve a Blue Peter badge because Ive been helping my Mummy in the garden for three days and Ive been really good. I have done lots of digging and lifting, and I cut my thumb on a spiky red bush but I didnt cry once and everyone says Im really brave. Its my special friends birthday tomorrow and we are doing the garden for her as a present and shes really happy because shes got a really bad knee and she makes plants die. I think you should give me a badge because Im a super brave helper and I want to be a gardener. Im a good drawer my friend says, so I have put some of my pictures in for you to see. Theres a picture of a horse, one of the sea and two of me doing the garden with my Mummy. I hope you like the pictures, me and my special friend draw them on a Thursday night when everyones gone to bed and its our little secret but my special friend says it makes us more closer. Thanks for reading my letter and please, please give me a Blue Peter badge. Love from, ###### in Wales. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Fri, 25 Mar 2011 12:32:52 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1661/diary-of-a-crap-wife-yawn-poke-gag-scowl-dont-wake-your-mother http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1661 Im not known for my subtlety (which is a shame because I wanted to be a spy) and the task is proving difficult.Im not really in a position at the moment to make him take his clothes off in the garden, and because of this Im having to break out the old faithfuls .
Old faithfuls like the yawn game.The yawn game is the simplest form of torture I have ever inflicted.Its so effective that he once told me that it was the most frustrating experience hes had in 30 years on the planet.
Then why did I stop doing it? I hear you ask.
Common sense.When I started the game we were dating, and if Id continued with it, Id never have got him down the aisle.This was around the same time Id started gaining weight, and torturing him before he needed a solicitor to leave me was simply not in my best interests.
I made the decision to retire the game and save it for another day.Like today.
Im going to share with you the genius that is the yawn game.Its a simple case of patience and perseverance.
First, you must ensure that you wake your victim about three times.There are many ways of doing this- I think I heard a burglar is by far the most effective.
When your victim is awake, you allow them to drop off to sleep... and then wake them again. Repeat this process 3 times and then engage them in a conversation about your feelings. When they start yawning (which they will) poke your finger in their mouth thus making them gag and ensuring that they never complete a full yawn.
It sounds like nothing, but trust me, its the simplest, most effective ploy Ive found to date.
Husband tells anyone wholl listen that for the first year we were together I didnt let him yawn.This is true.Somewhere along the line though, hes forgotten how this made him feel.My previous hard work with the yawn game has become nothing more than an anecdote he tells our friends, hes forgotten the frustration.There was no burglar and he remembers now though.
Youre not starting this crap again, are you? he asked.
What crap? I dont know what you mean? What would you do if I died? Would you ever love again?
Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.
The not letting me yawn crap, you know what Im talking about. Dont you fucking dare.And Id be crushed if you died. You know that.
Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.
I tell him, If I died, I dont want you to be happy, mind.I want you to walk round with my ashes in yourmanbagcrying at strangers.
Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.
Seriously, dont start with the yawn shit again.I know what youre doing. He says .
I want to be buried when I die; I want Living in A Box played at my funeral. I want half the people to be told my last wishes were for everyone to dress in party gear, and the other half to be told to dress in black- that way half will think the other half have been disrespectful and therell be fights. I want fights at my funeral.
Yawn-BollockGrab (you cant be predictable)-Gag-Scowl.
If you start this crap up again then youll be put in a cardboard box withBoyzoneplaying while they burn you with matches.
This is offensive to me; Im not a fan ofBoyzone.
That wont happen, Ill text my sister my wishes and jump off a bridge to spite you.She wouldnt let me down.
Yawn-Poke-Grab-Scowl.
You're scared of heights and anyway, Ill over rule her and then Ill remarry achavto spite you. He says. Fine, Ill haunt you and stick my finger up your bum before I put it in your mouth when you yawn. Says she.
Husbands getting cross. Im not having this conversation, I had 4 hours sleep last night, its half one and were up at five tomorrow.
Ok, Im sorry, Im not really starting the yawn game again, I just didnt want to sleep-Im upset because Im so fat, I feel really crap babe, Im sure that woman inWyevalewas laughing at me today. I feel really down.
Aww baby, dont be stupid, I love you just the way you are, youre beautiful, youre being silly
Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.
Seriously, dont start with the fucking poking.
Shhhhhh, Husband, youll wake your mother. YOU CAN ADDCRAPWIFEONFACEBOOKBY SEARCHING FOR DailyCrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER @CrapWife
]]> Thu, 24 Mar 2011 02:47:44 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1659/and-zen-there-were-none-shes-got-the-stress-factor http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1659 Tue, 22 Mar 2011 23:29:49 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1655/he-looks-like-dame-edna-well-be-using-gary-mole-again http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1655 Well youve been saying that we dont have room for the fish tank- we can put them in the pond now. Itll be lovely. You ruined thesurprisethough. I am wondering if the holes big enough to bury him in. Husband shows me the stuff hes bought for my birthday present The filtration system looks expensive, pond liners arent cheap and there are enough plants and gravel chippings to colonise the (super) moon. Not only have I once again failed in breaking him, Ive probably done myself out of the handbag I actually wanted. Husband took a half day from work to go and buy this stuff. Hes been out there for hours and has created a sickeningly attractive water feature. The fish wont be in there for another few weeks he tells me, the pond has to mature first. Hes really excited. Hes worked so hard. You eyes look red, you need to take your contacts out for a while and give them a rest, youve got that meeting first thing and you look like a junkie- got to bed, Ive got a few bits to finish up here, I wont be long Poor husband has terrible mole-like eye sight and I worry about his eyes. He usually sleeps in his contact lenses and on the rare occasions he takes them out, I have to help him in the morning as he cant see to switch the kettle on, let alone get himself dressed. This is why hiding his contact lenses may have been a tad cruel. It is for this reason that he probably wont notice that Ive shortened the arms and legs on his suit by an inch. I figure if I also set his alarm for thirty minutes later than usual, hell probably not notice the Gay Porn magazines in his briefcase either. In a rare attack of conscience, I decide to leave his emergency glasses available. I cant remember where Ive put them though, and I probably wont remember until about 3 minutes before hes leaving the house. I've painted the frames of his emergency glasses with opaque pink nail-varnish- to show my gratitude for all his hard work. As a final thank you (and acting on the innovative suggestion of one of the Crap Wife facebook followers) I draw large cocks on all the bank notes in his wallet. Oh to be a fly on the wall at tomorrow's breakfast meeting. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Tue, 22 Mar 2011 13:40:48 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1645/shoddy-work-mr-mole-its-what-sundays-are-all-about http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1645 First let me introduce myself, I am a local mole, whos been providing subterranean ventilation for lawns in the area for a number of years. I pride myself on my work, and have been instrumental in such local projects as Grass Verge by Canal and Green number 1 at South West Wales Garden Bowls Emproium. I am proud of my work, have a strong family history in the field and have a proven record with my clients. That is why this letter is so difficult for me to write. Lately, I have been overloaded with contracts and as such have become shoddy with my work. Where I used to dig complex tunnels and truly ventilate gardens, the recession has meant downsizing my workforce, and I resorted to fraudulent mole hills to meet demands. Im ashamed of my behaviour and am contacting my clients in the hope that they will understand that I was driven to this by the pressures associated with a wife and 38 children under the age of one. In an effort to make amends and re-establish myself as the diligent lawn ventilation specialist you've come to respect, I have taken the liberty of digging a large hole in the centre of your lawn. I hope this goes some way towards rekindling the professional relationship I jeopardised.
Yours Sincerely,
Gary. Ive sent this letter via courier to Husbands place of work. He should receive it within the hour. I'm not digging the hole myself, I have paid a Handy Man to do it, I'm going to paint my nails. ]]> Mon, 21 Mar 2011 12:44:44 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1642/diary-of-a-crap-wife-the-adventures-of-mr-mole-i-wrote-a-song-for-you http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1642 Thats a nice song, did you write it? Yeah I did actually, I wrote it for you because I love you so much. I also wrote Candle in the Windregardless of what Elton John says. I sent it to him anonymously because I didnt want to be famous, you know, cause Im shy and stuff.
Youre very clever wife, what did I do to deserve someone like you?

Something really good probably, like winning a Peace prize or inventing Xbox.
About two weeks after we moved into this house we woke to find our lush green lawn had erupted in muddy earth explosions. Husband assured me that no, this wasnt the work of Al-Qaeda, and that it was more likely we had a mole than a terrorist cell operating in the garden. I remained unconvinced until Husband became obsessed with the creature and woke me at 4am every day to join him on a reconnaissance mission. For nearly a week we were up at stupid oclock being still and quiet waiting for the mole to show its furry face. On the seventh day, I was forced to admit that the culprit did look more like a mole than Osama Bin Laden, however, I stand firm, the similarity is uncanny. Husband was dismissive of my suggestions to phone the Army and opted instead for a more home-guard approach. While I was looking in the yellow-pages for the boss of the Paratroopers, Husband was ordering a humane mole trap from Amazon. Surprisingly, the mole trap arrived before Regimental HQ in Hampshire returned my call. This was nearly a month ago, and the mole has long since moved on, Husband assures me that he was not harmed and simply wanted a change of scenery. I'm pleased that I dont have to get up and stare at grass at 4am anymore. Since this little blip, Husband has been painstakingly planting grass seed and manicuring the green, green grass of home. Hes nursed the battlefield back to health and healed the scars it once bore. Im so proud of him. I was up at four this morning. Like a Paratrooper on leave creeping out of an ugly birds bedroom, I stealthily went to the garden. Silently I moulded compost into mole-hill shaped mounds and deposited them onto the lawn. The mole managed to break husband, and Im not being beaten by a fucking rodent. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER @CrapWife]]> Sun, 20 Mar 2011 18:19:14 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1637/diary-of-a-crap-wife-were-having-an-elfs-themed-party-young-free-single-in-your-area http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1637 Looking for fun. She replied.
Ah, something I can relate to, Im always looking for fun. Never one to miss an opportunity for self promotion, I typed: You should read my blog- there are plenty of ideas in there about how to keep from being bored...
Do you like webcam? She answered. Now I dont know about you, but Im highly suspicious of my web cam. I see it as a little ticking time bomb that could ruin my life at anytime. Im only ever a mouseclick away from being by broadcast in my SpongeBob pyjamas because Ive hit the wrong key trying to play pacman. Its for this reason Ive covered it with a Dennis the Menace plaster, prevention is better than cure and so on. Im highly suspicious of them Laura, if you are too, then I have a spare Dennis the Menace plaster you can have if youre passing. Laura sent me a link which I closed down immediately Thanks for the offer, Laura, but Im not really in the mood to watch your home videos at the moment, Husbands V+ed Silent Witness and were going to give that a bash.
Laura must have been offended by this because she wouldnt speak to me anymore and just kept sending me pop up boxes. After closing 14 webcab offers, two competitions to win an ipad and a series of ringtone downloads my laptop was running less efficiently that it once had been. I put it down to experience and carried on proof reading the blog. I got about half way through when another box popped up on my screen commencing cache dump. Im no Bill Gates but even I knew that wasnt a good thing. My blog disappeared, along with my photos, recipes and emails. Fuck. Husband knows the laptops got Aids. Recovered blog:
Husband had barely spoke a word to me when we got back from Tesco, we drank wine in silence, he didnt give me a foot rub and when we went to bed he didnt check the spare room for orbs which he usually does for me when weve been watching Most Haunted . He went to work this without saying goodbye- he thought I was sleeping, but I wasnt I was laying there thinking about what I had done, thoroughly ashamed of myself and my actions. I got up, made coffee and decided to embark on a quest of self improvement. I made a list of all the things Ive done wrong and vowed to correct them before I lost the respect of those who love me grow weary of my failings. As such, I hereby promise that I will step up the campaign to break the husband and blog about it with more regularity. Im sure you agree that a bit of the silent treatment really isnt good enough. I will make my pranks more outlandish and creative and try to post the report at a more conventient time of day. I will pay more attention to my use of commas and not skimp on details. Within an hour of writing my new charter I received a text from husband Sorry I was so quiet last night, had a hard day at work and that prick in Tesco pissed me off by laughing at you when I told him that you were too embarrassed to pay for your shopping yourself. Cant wait to see you later, well watch that Justin Bieber DVD if you want? Fucking, fucking husband. Im tamping that the Bieber debacle backfired and have set about planning a long overdue housewarming party in order to cheer myself up. I want to do something a little different and decide on an Elfs themed costume extravaganza.I ring the husband to tell him my idea: Brilliant, we can invite everyone, itll be a hell of a laugh- only thing is, if youre doing it on that Friday, I wont be finishing work til 10 so youll have to start without me. He says Husband- theres no way I can make everyone dress up as Elfs and then have you walk in at 10 in your work clothes on. Ever the considerate husband he comes up with a solution all on his own.
I know! I can change in the toilets at work and just drive home in my costume, if you want? Will that make you feel better? Clever Husband. Early evening he rang me to say hes found an amazing Elfs costume online. It comes with shoes and hat and will be here by Tuesday. Hes really excited for the party, bless him, Husband loves any excuse for fancy dress. I wonder will this still be the case when he walks into our Elvis themed party dressed like an Elf? YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER@CrapWife ]]> Sat, 19 Mar 2011 14:00:54 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1624/diary-of-a-crap-wife-unexpected-item-in-bagging-area-why-are-the-police-here http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1624 Just heading to the til, love- would you mind if I leave you with the shopping and go sit in the car- my knees killing me
No worries babe, see you in a second.
I arrange our bags for life onto the packing area and scan the scallops, lamb joint and bleach thus committing him to the transaction. As he walks in, I head towards him, pointing at the til and grabbing the car keys on my way . See you in five, husband. Of course I didnt go straight to the car, I instead watched through the window opposite his til. Hed scanned the second cucumber before he saw the three tubes of KY jelly, mansize box of Kleenex and Justin Bieber Teen Idol DVD. By this time assistance was already on its way. I wish I could tell you what was said between him and Darren here-to-help but hes not spoken to me since. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER @CrapWife ]]> Fri, 18 Mar 2011 03:36:04 +0000 http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1613/carlos-the-mexican-lodger http://americymrunet.jamroomhosting.com/crap-wife/blog/1613 r work with a DVD stuffed with ham salad and a quid glued to a lemon (to buy Doritos with in case the DVD didnt fill him up.) The mood however, was short lived. My animals are ruining my life. I know Ive already mentioned the dog , but I dont think Ive brought up the cats- thats because 2 out of 3 of them hate me. All three cats are second hand, we inherited two from friends, and the other one just turned up and never left. As per usual circle of life rules, the cats hate the dog, and the dog (being French) is terrified of the cats. This wasnt really a problem, until Carlo came to stay. Were now cat sitting and its the diplomatic equivalent of arranging a seating plan at a Welsh/English wedding during Six Nations Season. I found a balance around midday where the cats had the conservatory and the dog stayed in the living room with me. About an hour in to this treaty, I notice that there is a lot less light in the conservatory than there used to be. The reason for this appears to be four large tom cats, previously unknown to my garden, sitting on its roof. I now suspect that Carlos, the greasy Mexican lodger, is pimping out the girl cats. I cant say Im bothered, as long as I get a cut.Atext from the cats owner confirmed that yes; Carlos has been known to dabble in the gutter trades. Its obvious to me that his Bordello attitude is symptomatic of a traumatic early life experience. Im going to ring my mother and see if she can run a risk review and perhaps recommend a counsellingservice. As if my day hadnt been frustrating enough, I am now 100% sure that Husband is toying with me. This afternoon, while drinking a premixed Margarita that tasted like sweat,I received a text: Deconstructed sandwich was a great idea, thanks babe. Cheers as well for putting a DVD in- managed to swap it with Dai for Paranormal Activity 2- we can watch it later? X He didnt mention the lemon. YOU CAN ADD CRAPWIFE ON FACEBOOK BY SEARCHING FOR Daily CrapWife OR FOLLOW ON TWITTER @CrapWife ]]> Wed, 16 Mar 2011 23:54:16 +0000