The Ass Bucket List

I asked the lovely Marianna Annadanna to write a little guest post for me. Because she is awesome, she was more than happy to oblige and wrote a funny post for your Sunday evening entertainment. If you’re on Twitter, please follow her @snappysurprise. Please check out her hilarious blog Snappy Surprise!

When Vivi put it out on the twitter that she was looking for a guest poster, I jumped all over it. 
I love Vivi (although I haven't asked if I can call her that - she might hate it, but it's too late now), and I love her blog, and I also relish the idea of posting something somewhere on the interwebs that might not be read by my entire real life social circle.
But because y'all might not already know me, I'd like to tell you today about my wonderful adoring Hubby. 
Hubby's been the light of my life since I was 16 years old (even 10 years old, if you really think about it).  He's clever, relaxed, funny, and he has a cute butt.  And he's remarkably handy around the house.  Several must-haves in any hubby, I think. 
But what an efffing ASS BUCKET. 

Seriously.  He knows I love him dearly, but FRIG that guy is gonna be the death of me.

So.  Behold my list of annoying Hubby habits that have been really PISSING ME OFF lately. 
First, he's been playing a stupid game on his iPhone. 

It's some sort of obnoxious paper airplane game.  Problem is, Hubby is an addictive gamer.  And this game fits his addictive personality perfectly - it has shooting and fighting, and the worst part?  He can TALK to the idiots on the other side.  And they can HEAR him.  Ugh.  Makes me sick.  I have to REMIND HIM to turn off the mic so my words aren't heard by strangers over the internet.  And then he has the nerve to compare it to twitter, WHICH IT IS SO CLEARLY NOT. 
Second, whenever I ask him to do anything, he almost always instantly refuses. 

He doesn't even think about it.  He just jumps right to the NO.  Can you empty the dishwasher? NO.  Can you strip the sheets?  NO.  Can you clean up the kitchen?  NO.  Can you stop being an ASS BUCKET?  No.  He doesn't mean to.  It's just a weird habit.  His usually excuses it by reciting some other recent chore that required a comparable level of time and effort... entirely ignoring the fact that the whole time he's been chilling on the couch prior to my request, I've been cleaning the bathroom, or doing the laundry, or making the breakfast.  Not to mention that he's never once pulled out the vacuum voluntarily. 

Finally -- and this one just came to me this exact effing minute when he walked in with his sushi takeout) -- he eats at the living room coffee table. 

That part doesn't bother me.  I do it too.  It's that he INSISTS on pulling the coffee table as close as possible to his godforsaken knees so he can shovel food into his mouth directly over top of his plate, block my view of the tv, bunch up the rug underneath, "forget" to put it back, and then leave it for me to fix every damn night before we go to bed. 

Forgive me.  I love Hubby more than anything, and I wouldn't trade him for a billion dollars...
But goddess almighty I might ring his damn neck. 
So when Vivien gave me the opportunity to write something on a new corner of the interwebs, and then she even knew me well enough to suggest I write about my complaints? I soooo could not resist. 

Tell me I'm not alone.  Lie if you have to.  Just tell me you can't stand your husband either. I cannot be the only one.