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post #1 of 2 (permalink) Old Apr 5th, 2006, 5:38 pm Thread Starter
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Join Date: Jun 2003
Location: Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
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Subject: In The Beginning


In the beginning God created day and night. He created day for footy matches, going to the beach and BBQ's .He created night for going prawning, sleeping and BBQ's, and God saw that it was good.

On the Second Day, God created water - for surfing, swimming and BBQ's on the beach, and God saw that it was good.

On the Third Day God created the Earth to bring forth plants to provide malt and yeast for beer and wood for BBQs, and God saw that it was good.

On the Fourth Day God created animals and crustaceans, for chops, sausages, steak and prawns for BBQ's, and God saw that it was good.

On the Fifth day God created a Bloke - to go to the footy, enjoy the beach, drink the beer and eat the meat and prawns at BBQ's, and God saw that it was good.

On the Sixth Day God saw that the Bloke was lonely and needed someone to go to the footy, surf, drink beer, eat and stand around the barbie with. So God created Mates, and God saw that they were good Blokes, and God saw that it was good.

On the Seventh Day God looked around at the twinkling barbie fires, heard the hiss of opening beer cans and the raucous laughter of all the Blokes. He smelled the aroma of grilled chops and sizzling prawns and God saw that it was good ... well .. almost good. He saw that the Blokes were too tired to clean up and needed a rest. So God created Sheilas - to clean the house, to bear children, to wash, to cook and to clean the barbie, and then God saw that it was not just good. It was better than that, it was Bloody Awesome!

IT WAS AUSTRALIA !!!!!



Something tells me this was written by a bloke.
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post #2 of 2 (permalink) Old Apr 11th, 2006, 4:05 am
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The Risks of Chauvinism

Please be aware that as your wives age, it is harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger.

When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive and there is nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

My name is Dave. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Martha. When I was laid off from my consulting job and took early retirement in April, it became necessary for Martha to get a full-time job, both for extra income and for the health insurance benefits we needed.

Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf course about the same time she gets home from work, and although she knows how hungry I am, she rests an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club, so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.

She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now, it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed. I really think my old business as a consultant helps a lot. Telling people what they ought to do is one of my strong points.

Also, now that she has gotten older, she does seem to get tired so much more quickly. Our washer and dryer are in the basement, and sometimes she says she just can't make another trip down those steps. I don't make a big issue of this, just as long as she finishes up the laundry the next evening. I'm willing to overlook her shortcomings in this area. Unless I need something ironed to wear to the Monday lodge meeting, or to the Wednesday and Saturday poker club, or to Tuesday's and Thursday's bowling, I'll tell her to wait until the next evening to do the ironing.

This gives her a little more time to do some of those odds and ends like shampooing the dog, vacuuming or dusting. If I had a really bad day on the course and it was wet and muddy, and my clubs are a mess, I let her clean them, you know, getting the grit off the grips and a little light Brillo on the club faces. Since my golf bag is heavy, I lift it out of the trunk for her. Women are delicate, have weak wrists and can't lift heavy stuff as good as men. But I had to tell her that I don't like to be wakened during my after-golf nap, so rather than bother me, she can put them back in the trunk when she's finished.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of fresh squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too, and then take her break by my hammock. That way we can talk until I fall asleep.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Martha, but I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult, some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this letter, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile.

After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

Regards,

Dave


EDITOR'S NOTE

Dave died suddenly Thursday, May 19th. He was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Golf Driver rammed up his rectum with only two inches of grip showing. His wife Martha was arrested, but after the jury read this letter, they accepted her defence that he accidentally sat on it.
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