I'm a peace-loving, mild-mannered, some might even say demure wife, mother, and grandmother. Sometimes, though, something raises my ire. In particular, that something is often my beloved. You know who I mean--The Wretch.
The Wretch can be, at times, loving, generous, and kind. At other times, he can be a pain in the patookus. (That's ass for those who don't know the previous word.) At these times, I want to shoot him where it hurts.
This may be why The Wretch doesn't want me to have a gun, even after I've asked repeatedly on those gift-giving occasions, such as birthdays and Christmas, for said gun. It doesn't have to be a big or expensive. Something small and business-like that I can tuck in a designer purse would be just fine.
The Wretch claims I wouldn't be responsible with a gun. I beg to differ. Sure, I'd be responsible. I'd shoot only those persons who deserved shooting. What could be more responsible than that?
Gem for the day: This is for the husbands and significant others: if you don't want to get shot by your wife, don't piss her off.
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