Bingo. This is why the easiest people to ridicule are the secular humanists. Like human beings are the top of the food chain, and gods all on their own.
“I’m a scotch/Irish, green-eyed strawberry blonde.”
That’s hot.
As in headed.
No seriously, how many husbands are buried in the backyard? Nothing like the temper of an red-headed Irish wife. Buy the Italian wife something nice, and you can get away with almost anything.
Like a burning matchstick. The fire has to be completely out, no more smoke, and cool to the touch.
Then its like nothing ever happened.
This is why Irish husbands stay drunk - after three days, you wake up, pick up your teeth, and go on about your business. Your ribs have had a chance to knit, and you can almost breathe without it hurting too much.
Wow, you get me pretty well. My husband is twenty-seven years older than me. He says the times in between the exorcisms are definitely worth the blood, sweat and tears.
You are a stinker.
He is my second. Have no idea if the first is buried yet.
The Italian men do the teeth-knocking and their wives do the drinking? Is that what you are saying?