Woman Got My Money

So I caved, and we pulled the trigger on both large purchases this week. We had a car transferred from Maryland to Virginia over the weekend and had full intentions of purchasing it, but after a test drive that was less than impressive, we traded it for what was behind curtain number two. So instead of the Acura RDX we are now rocking a Lexus RX330, complete with the Soccer Mom package upgrade that includes gift cards to Nordstrom, Starbucks, Banana Republic, and a bumper sticker that says “My Wife is Recession Proof”.

Later in the week we had hardwood floors installed. This involved moving a bunch of shit into the kitchen and bathroom so that the three amigos could get their installation on. Of course Maggie and I got home before they were finished, and it was one of those days when my bowels were ready to erupt like Mt. Vesuvius. I ran up to the third floor, handed Maggie some stuff to play with and then proceeded to do my business.

Meanwhile, Maggie is screaming like she just took a nunchuck to her retina, there’s a cacophony of banging and sawing going on downstairs and I am just sitting there with an “Ain’t this a bowl of fucking cherries?” look on my face. I will say the new floors are spectacular, and now that the carpet is gone, I am ready to throw on the pink button down, Rayban Wafarers sunglasses and rock out to some Bob Seger. Although, I’ll probably skip the house call from the hooker, dumping the Porsche in the lake and losing a glass egg to a pimp, bullshit.

New fancy car, new fancy floors, go ahead and add two more checks in the “Could you be any whiter?” record book. Now if you’ll excuse me I am going to see how many times I can spin around on one foot in my living room. Woman, hand me my socks and let’s get this party started!