The “Dog” Days of Summer are Coming

Tomorrow Millie’s sister is coming to town for her annual visit. She’s flying in from Idaho and we’re going to be forced to visit with her. She’s TheMan’s favorite aunt, so he tries to spend as much time with her as possible.

But we don’t really get on too well. You see, she’s a huge fan of both that viper, Coulter, and that monkey’s ass, O’Reilly. As a matter of fact, she argued with me that last time she was in town that Billy-boy “tells it like it is and gets all his facts straight”. I laughed and laughed and told her that he was so full of shit it smelled like an outhouse every time his mug popped up on the t.v. And then she actually offered to let me “borrow” Coulter’s latest rag. *GAG* I think she was insulted when I told her I’d rather spork myself in the eye and tickle my own brain.

She is, of course, the same aunt with whom I had this conversation.

TheMan’s female relatives began lecturing me on how it’s appropriate and expected that a man go find some other tail when his wife’s not putting out. “A man’s got to have sex!”, they told me. I laughed. “If the husband can’t keep his penis to himself, then he shouldn’t expect his wife to stay around. So, if TheMan can’t get an erection because of prostrate surgery, or something like that, it would be all right for me to take a boy toy?” Gasp! Shock! Faint! OMG! Millie looks me straight in the eye and says:

“You don’t need sex like he does. It’s a sin for you to cheat on your husband.”

That’s when I pretty much fell on the floor pissing myself in laughter. I have read that people thought like this in the past but I was pretty sure that was hundreds of years ago. Boy, was I wrong! I told them all that if my husband felt he needed to get sexed up by some hussy other than me then he could file for divorce, and don’t expect me to be nice about the whole situation. I then informed them that women are designed, just like men, to enjoy sex and if they didn’t know that then someone wasn’t giving it to them right. Cue the big eyeballs and dropped jaws of shock. TheMan’s aunt promptly asked me “You’re a feminist, aren’t you?”

The thing is, this particular aunt (for whom I need an appropriate name- suggestions?), likes to talk politics as much as I like to blog about it. Normally, I can actually have conversations with conservatives and we can somehow remain civil. Not so with the aunt. She believes it’s her duty to put all liberals in their place and the best way to do that is to follow the examples set for her two favorite media assheads. And then there’s an argument, because she’s used to talking over everyone and if that doesn’t work, simply shouting and carrying on. Then I get annoyed and lose my temper. Now, believe it or not, I sound a lot more, um, intellectual when I’m pissed- using big words appropriately and not cussing. Strange, huh? Anyway, Millie doesn’t like that kind of “dialogue” going on in her spot, and since she’s a die-hard Bush fan, I lose. See how that can stress me out?

Of course, there’s other reason I don’t care to “converse” with her. “All people with tattoos are idiots and not worth talking to” (I’ve got a tattoo- heh), “Men that pierce their ears/wear their hair long/wear baggy pants/listen to rock music/dance are fags and therefore evil“, “Feminists are bad, bad, bad and are trying to make boys into girly men”, “Teaching abstinence-only is the right thing because girls are sluts and boys are honorable and girls lead boys astray”, “Evolution is a crock”, “Poor people shouldn’t be seen”, blah, blah, blah ad nauseam. In other words, she’s a flippin’ rightwing nut. Isn’t that nice?

Everyone please pray for me this coming week.

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