Day 105
Even though I’m still stricken with the cold that Mrs. Snowman has so thoughtfully given to me, today I had no option but to venture out into the cold air of mid-morning to do some shopping.
As the wife had the day off, I was press ganged into performing this task so that she could have an extra couple of hours in bed to perfect her snoring technique.
Needless to say I got the bare minimum of food shopping along with six cases of beer, two bottles of Southern Comfort and enough cigarettes to see me through until next week. The female section of the readership will doubtless be sharpening their pencils to write me numerous letters of hate mail at this point but I should also point out that even I’m not mean enough to forget about the wife’s condition.
I bought her a packet of cough sweets.
So, with the trunk of the car laden down with alcohol I drove home, parked the car in the drive and sneaked off to the pub for a few pints of medicinal sustenance. As usual, I made the mistake of taking my cell phone so was interrupted in the middle of obtaining my fourth pint and ordered back home again.
The only thing preventing my eardrums from taking their customary battering was Mrs. Snowman’s continued inability to raise her voice above a mild croak. Although I got away with a stare that could curdle milk, I have a feeling I’m going to pay for it at a later date.
Big time.
So, with the wife making all sorts of strange grunting noises in the bedroom and Surrogate Daughter out somewhere with Small Child, I had a relatively peaceful afternoon with the laptop on my knees and a beer I my hand.
As usual, the first thing I did after switching on the computer was to check my e-mails and separate the genuine correspondence from all the crap offering me everything from home insurance to breast enlargement. However, one of the unsolicited letters attracted my attention more than usual.
Apparently there are several hundred Russian ladies that would like to marry me.
It doesn’t seem to bother them that I’m already shackled to the current wife and that the closest I ever intend getting to Russia is ordering a double vodka at my local pub.
It also didn’t seem to matter that my prospective brides complimented me on my photograph and profile…even though I hadn’t posted either.
Quite obviously this was a scam of some description, which was a shame as some of the women were absolutely stunning.
I have since discovered that one of them is really a photograph of an ex Miss Kiev whilst another one is of a famous Russian porn actress.
Sounds like a combination of the ideal wife to me.
Needless to say I attacked the poker tables with the gusto and zeal of a catholic priest in a boys shower room as I was able to focus on the games without the usual distractions of a screaming (and puking) child and a vicious spouse. It could be for this very reason that I found myself making the money in three of the four tournaments I entered. The returns may have been meager as the most expensive buy-in amounted to only $4.40 but it was nonetheless an addition to my bank balance that hasn’t occurred for a while. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the little shit who cracked my pocket Kings with 9-3 off (hitting two pair) I might have made it a clean sweep.
We shall see how long this newly found fortune lasts.
Turning back to the offer from my new Eastern European admirers, I’ve decided to post a profile of myself on the offending site and see what kind of responses I actually get. I’ve even worked out what I should write to get the optimum reaction.
I’m sure you could fine-tune some of it as you’re probably getting to know me quite well by now so let me know any additions you think are relevant:
Suave and sophisticated Brad Pitt look-alike. Tall, blonde haired, blue eyed, muscular, athletic non-smoking, non-drinking fitness enthusiast would like to meet opera loving female (looks unimportant). Devastatingly handsome with the sexual prowess of a rutting stag on Viagra. Excellent cook and home improvement expert. Adores children and animals (especially cats). Reliable and hard working. Hobbies include assisting overseas charities with humanitarian aid and traveling the Arctic wastes in heroic attempts to save baby seals.
Or I could just be honest…
Strange, long-haired male (real ugly bastard) with expanding beer-belly and bright blue beard would like to meet female with big tits and the ability to suck a golf ball through a garden hose. Come to think of it I’m not even bothered about the species. Replies from psychopaths and maniacs welcome, as I’m grateful for whatever I can get.
Who said romance was dead?
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $7.94
As the wife had the day off, I was press ganged into performing this task so that she could have an extra couple of hours in bed to perfect her snoring technique.
Needless to say I got the bare minimum of food shopping along with six cases of beer, two bottles of Southern Comfort and enough cigarettes to see me through until next week. The female section of the readership will doubtless be sharpening their pencils to write me numerous letters of hate mail at this point but I should also point out that even I’m not mean enough to forget about the wife’s condition.
I bought her a packet of cough sweets.
So, with the trunk of the car laden down with alcohol I drove home, parked the car in the drive and sneaked off to the pub for a few pints of medicinal sustenance. As usual, I made the mistake of taking my cell phone so was interrupted in the middle of obtaining my fourth pint and ordered back home again.
The only thing preventing my eardrums from taking their customary battering was Mrs. Snowman’s continued inability to raise her voice above a mild croak. Although I got away with a stare that could curdle milk, I have a feeling I’m going to pay for it at a later date.
Big time.
So, with the wife making all sorts of strange grunting noises in the bedroom and Surrogate Daughter out somewhere with Small Child, I had a relatively peaceful afternoon with the laptop on my knees and a beer I my hand.
As usual, the first thing I did after switching on the computer was to check my e-mails and separate the genuine correspondence from all the crap offering me everything from home insurance to breast enlargement. However, one of the unsolicited letters attracted my attention more than usual.
Apparently there are several hundred Russian ladies that would like to marry me.
It doesn’t seem to bother them that I’m already shackled to the current wife and that the closest I ever intend getting to Russia is ordering a double vodka at my local pub.
It also didn’t seem to matter that my prospective brides complimented me on my photograph and profile…even though I hadn’t posted either.
Quite obviously this was a scam of some description, which was a shame as some of the women were absolutely stunning.
I have since discovered that one of them is really a photograph of an ex Miss Kiev whilst another one is of a famous Russian porn actress.
Sounds like a combination of the ideal wife to me.
Needless to say I attacked the poker tables with the gusto and zeal of a catholic priest in a boys shower room as I was able to focus on the games without the usual distractions of a screaming (and puking) child and a vicious spouse. It could be for this very reason that I found myself making the money in three of the four tournaments I entered. The returns may have been meager as the most expensive buy-in amounted to only $4.40 but it was nonetheless an addition to my bank balance that hasn’t occurred for a while. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the little shit who cracked my pocket Kings with 9-3 off (hitting two pair) I might have made it a clean sweep.
We shall see how long this newly found fortune lasts.
Turning back to the offer from my new Eastern European admirers, I’ve decided to post a profile of myself on the offending site and see what kind of responses I actually get. I’ve even worked out what I should write to get the optimum reaction.
I’m sure you could fine-tune some of it as you’re probably getting to know me quite well by now so let me know any additions you think are relevant:
Suave and sophisticated Brad Pitt look-alike. Tall, blonde haired, blue eyed, muscular, athletic non-smoking, non-drinking fitness enthusiast would like to meet opera loving female (looks unimportant). Devastatingly handsome with the sexual prowess of a rutting stag on Viagra. Excellent cook and home improvement expert. Adores children and animals (especially cats). Reliable and hard working. Hobbies include assisting overseas charities with humanitarian aid and traveling the Arctic wastes in heroic attempts to save baby seals.
Or I could just be honest…
Strange, long-haired male (real ugly bastard) with expanding beer-belly and bright blue beard would like to meet female with big tits and the ability to suck a golf ball through a garden hose. Come to think of it I’m not even bothered about the species. Replies from psychopaths and maniacs welcome, as I’m grateful for whatever I can get.
Who said romance was dead?
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $7.94