I wish Bonbi could come home from work, laboring after her shitty blue collar job and just abuse the shit out of me.
She'd come home, tired, dirty, and recently shitted on by her boss, and I'd come to her at the door and greet her and ask her how her day was... She'd say "shitty and hard as usual, what'd you do all day? Lay around doing nothing eating 5 Lays™ chips and a drink bottle of Coca Cola®?".
I'd be visible hurt by that comment, and I'd know I would be in for a sadistic diatribe because she's done it many times before.
"I-cleaned the house today...and made you a sandwich t-to eat".
"Wowwww, a sandwich, I truly live like a Queen! You know girls at work have husbands that actually put in effort for their wives? You know, cook them actual meals.... like chicken parm or fettuccine alfredo spaghetti--you lazy fucken bastard.”
“Y-you know I’m not that good at cooking...” I’d say.
“Yeah I know, I married you for your pretty face, but that’s quickly depreciating by the month. I’m so fucken stupid, thinkin with my pussy instead of my head”
I’d welp and cry hot fast tears at such a vulgar utterance and stampede upstairs to cry in the master bedroom.
She’d yell up the stairs: “Oh come on! Stop being so sensitive! I had a shitty day...come on!..Come on! Christ sake! FUCK! CAN'T I EVER COME HOME TO SOMETHING NICE?!”.
Then she’d crack open a beer and eat her shitty pickle filled sandwich in self-satisfaction and shaking her head side to side “such a stupid fucken bitch” she’d mutter.