today's rant: bra-wnie

last night, my wife was adjusting her bra while in bed.  the lights were off and our eyes had gotten used to the dark for a little while already.  when she finished adjusting her bra, she noticed that something about the size of a peanut m&m had fallen out.  she seemed very timid and asked me what it was, perhaps thinking that an insect (possibly one of those rolly-polly ones?) had fallen out of her bra.  i proceeded to poke the item with the remote control twice.  i then swallowed my nerve and ventured tactile contact.  i picked it up and proudly proclaimed, "it's a brownie."  apparently, a piece of a brownie she ate earlier yesterday had fallen into her bra.  now i know where our daughter picked up the habit of having cheerios fall into her diaper. to top it off, tonight, my wife experienced another food/bra anomaly. just 5 minutes ago, she discovered part of our daughter's granola bar in her bra. she exulted the profound words "i knew my bra was itchy but... look, there's chocolate and everything!" i love you too, sweetie.

it is starting to piss me off that my wife is watching hgtv at all hours of the day.  i understand the reason why she wants to watch the shows since we're getting a new house built, but the shows themselves are figuratively fucking me in the ear.  most shows follow the same exact format.  i don't mind shows and movies following the same format, as long as it is entertaining.  this shit ain't fucking entertaining.  every single fucking time, realtors take prospective property owners around and say "this first property has absolutely nothing that you want and falls well within your budget, so screw you.  this property has everything that you want and you cannot ever hope to afford it, you cocksuckers!  this third property has some of what you want and you'd have to put the rest in yourself, perfectly matching your budget.  by the way, these are the only three properties you can choose from, which is nothing like real life, but you're under contract with us, so tough tuchass.  since you're gonna pick this third property anyway, let's spend the other 17 minutes of this show just fucking around and telling the folks at home your pathetic story of how you met when you're getting married."  every... fucking... time.