How To Be Married: Teamwork

Part of the award winning series *

"How To Be Married,"

by Jessica Benassi,

self-proclaimed expert on marriage.

One of the things that makes our marriage so strong, is that James and I are really sympathetic to each other's needs and when things go wrong for one of us, the other one is always there to provide a shoulder to lean on. Sometimes this is difficult, as James and I live with dogs who eat all of our food, so we're both kind of skinny and our shoulders are all boney and not really good for leaning on and actually, it's usually just painful and makes everything worse instead of better.

So first - if you really want your marriage to be successful, you should probably gain lots of weight so that your shoulders are more comfortable to lean on.  More potatoes and more cake = better spouse.

(via Foodaphilia )

This is a cake made out of potatoes.  Probably if you eat this for dinner every night, your marriage is going to be the best marriage ever because your shoulders will be so fat and comfortable.

Sometimes your spouse might think that they're being helpful and a team player, when in fact, they're just being a giant douche canoe and they should be benched or whatever it is that they do in sports when the person is a huge jerk. Take this hypothetic and not at all true example:  If your wife is deperately trying to floss a popcorn kernel out of her teeth and reaches for the mouthwash at the same time, and somehow manages to throw half of the bottle of mouthwash in her eyes, knocking her glasses off of her face and is screaming in agony as she blindly crawls around on the floor looking for her glasses, the appropriate response is NOT to stand in the corner laughing while telling her that she's "getting warmer...warmer ....ooooh, dang....nope...never mind...colder..."

That's not teamwork, mister...that's just a road to Kardashian Town, paved with lies and diamond earrings that are super glued to the cobblestone so you can't actually pick them up and when you reach the end of that road, your knees are all scabbed and gross from crawling on the ground, your fingers are nothing but bloody stumps, you don't have any diamonds and OK! Magazine just told you that you're getting divorced.

So think about that.

Keep coming back for more expert marriage advice and remember, "True love never dies.  It just turns into a zombie with festering wounds all over the place, terrorizing the neighborhood and trying to eat everyone's brains."


* Actual awards haven't been granted yet, but as I am also a self proclaimed expert on seeing the future, I can tell you that the awards are coming. For real. You'll see.




P.S.  I found this for you:

 (via smosh)

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It's like a band that nobody's ever heard of, with sparklers and fancy underwear...

Soooooooo....

Right. It's been a while. However, you'll be happy to know that things are pretty much the same around my house:

Me: I'm going to form a theatre troupe, I think...
James: Can I be in it?
Me: I don't think so. You're not very talented, and also I don't want to hang out with you any more than I have to.
James: I'm going to be the musical guest star.
Me: No you're not. You're not in it.
James: And the special guest star should be our mayor, all nerdy and straight laced and he can introduce me and be all, "ladies and gentlemen... introducing....WASP!"
Me: What the hell are you talking about?
James: Yeah, except instead of Blackie Lawless, it'll be me wearing my chainsaw cod piece, with sparklers shooting out of my nipples.
Me: Are you insane? First of all, you're not in my theatre troupe. Second, what is your obsession with WASP?
James: Probably because they're awesome.


James: So listen...I need a chainsaw cod piece and sparks to fly out of my nipples.
Me: No you don't.
James: You could get it for me for Christmas!!
Me: Name one song by WASP.
James: Cod piece.
Me: That's not a song.
James: Chainsaw nipples.
Me: That's not a song, either.
James: Nipple weapons.
Me: None of those are songs.
James: How do you know?
Me: You're right....I don't. I'll google it. Where are you going?
James:I have a chainsaw and some fireworks in the garage...I have to get started on my costume...

Follow me on facebook for more stuff like this...and a little bit of spam.

P.S. I found this for you on the internet. It's Nicholas Cage...on the cover of a biology text book...in Serbia:

(Via Best Week Ever)

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How to be Married

A lesson in relationship stuff that's way smarter than stuff Oprah or Dr. Phil says because I'm a self-proclaimed expert in marriage.


By Jessica Benassi, self proclaimed expert on marriage


First - Get married before you get married. Some people call this “being divorced.” Getting married before you get married is a lot like dodgeball practice.

Sure, your co-captain launches dodgeballs at your gut the whole time, causing you to double over in agony and wonder why it seems like nobody’s following the rules.

He might even launch the ball at your head, knocking your glasses off and making it so that the tall, super bitchy blonde standing next to him is kind of out of focus and doesn’t look like a dodgeball threat.

This is ok…it’s just practice and it doesn’t actually count like a real dodgeball game . (If you’re Catholic, sometimes it’s harder to prove that dodgeball practice doesn’t count, but that’s only because most Catholic people like soccer and dodgeball probably confuses them a little bit.)
Usually you can find a fair and honest referee that will agree that your original game was just practice. Actually, sometimes the referees suck, but the important thing is that everybody agrees that at the end of the day, it was just a practice game and also, everybody should get to keep the sweatbands and tube socks that they brought to practice and not be a dick and try to take everybody else’s sweatbands and tube socks.

One thing that can get tricky is when team members decide to enlist a mascot for practice games. This is pretty stupid, because practice games don’t need a mascot and when it’s time to play real dodgeball, everybody thinks that the mascot should represent their team. The only way to solve the mascot dilemma is to put the mascot in a circle and have both co-captains from the practice game call to the mascot and let the mascot choose her own team. Also, it’s important to shove bologna in your bra and in your socks, otherwise you run the risk of the mascot choosing the wrong team and that would be stupid because you’re the one that picked the mascot in the first place.

Sometimes people get babies and little kids and stuff as mascots and things get weird. I don’t have any advice to give about that…the only mascots I’ve ever had were canine except the one time when I had a baby, except he was an imaginary baby and now he’s all grown up and in the FBI and the CIA and is apparently too good to play dodgeball with his family, and also he’s ungrateful.

Once you’re done practicing and you have your tubesocks and your sweatbands and your mascot, you’re ready for real dodgeball. Real dodgeball can also be tricky, because sometimes your co-captain seems like he’s not on your team and when you’re not looking, he’s launching dodgeballs at your gut and you might get confused and start thinking that you’re practicing again. Take a deep breath. You practiced your dodgeball game way longer than any sane person should ever practice dodgeball and you know what to do.

Crouch down…catch the ball…launch it back, straight at his big fat husband head...except be careful not to mess up the wig, because those are expensive and also probably a limited edition.

In the morning, when he is conscious again, he will acknowledge you as the Supreme Dodgeball Champion of the House and surprise you with French toast in bed and DVD copies of every Joseph Fiennes movie ever made, because Joseph Fiennes is beautiful and also the patron saint of dodgeball and marriage.

You’re welcome.

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