Chick Flicks Will Make You Want To Stab Your Husband In The Eye!

I subscribe to an online DVD rental company, which will remain nameless because they don't pay me to advertise for them so fuck em! Anyway, since my husband has forgotten how to do anything more complicated than wipe his own ass since we were married, I usually navigate the website and therefore have more of my choices on the queue. Being the mature and dutiful wife that I am, I have sat through weeks worth of "Flash: The series" patiently, knowing that eventually one of my movies would arrive. I said nothing when he ordered "In the studio with George Perez", which was basically a very talented comic book artist drawing. George P. is way talented, but I'd rather have a root canal than sit for two hours just watching him draw.

These past two weeks, we have been inundated with my picks, which have included more than a few "Chick Flicks". I chose most of the movies on my list because I never got to pick them out at the video store before we moved to the 21st century and went with the aforementioned online DVD rental company. His excuse was always..."Let's get DVD's we will both enjoy" while renting such Oscar worthy candidates as "Grindhouse", and "Bachelor Party". (Note to husband: Watching a bunch of scantily clad actresses attempting to emote while only partially clothed is your idea of a good time, not mine...no matter what you think about when you masturbate!). Just tonight I watched "The Lakehouse" with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves, unarguably a chick flick. My husband locked himself in the computer room and watched a documentary on comic books (also known as porn if the wife doesn't catch you). With only ten minutes left of the movie, my husband emerges from his cocoon and despite asking several questions to the plot of the movie, has the audacity to ridicule and make fun of the movie. I mentally calculated how many beers I would have to feed him to get him loopy enough to tie him to the bed so I could shove a rusty ice pick in his eye. After all, there is nothing funny about two people who fall in love because their mailbox is some sort of weird space/time continuum...those two needed each other!

Which leads me to my next point. Despite the fact that my darling husband would rather play on the Internet than watch a chick flick, he certainly does require a lot of explanations of said movies. Countless times he has excused himself to the computer room, only to emerge mid cinema and begin drilling me for the story line thus far. He will watch about 10 minutes under the pretense of lighting a cigar/getting a drink and then announce, triumphantly, what is going to happen at the end of the movie. Yes, most movies these days have predictable endings, but that doesn't mean you should announce it to the entire world. You're a brilliant detective sweetie, brilliant enough to put Miss Marples to shame, now shut up!

For all you single girls out there...do us married women a favor and drag your prospective boyfriends to every chick flick, hokey restaurant and Celine Dion concert you possibly can. Don't sleep with him until you have seen at least five, because the only way you'll get to enjoy them is if he is still trying to get into bed with you. The promise of sex, after you are married, is not enough to get a man anywhere near a Lifetime Movie of the Week, because he's already bought that proverbial cow. Trust me.

***Disclaimer: Despite my seemingly bashing of my husband over the past two posts, I really do love the guy, more than my next breath. He is a wonderful husband and father, even when I am about a quart low on estrogen as I am at the moment.