Sunday, July 22, 2007

Marriage: Probably not worth it

So, there I was, on my so-called summer blog vacation, supposed to be getting shit done, but I wasn't. I did manage to go to doctor's appointments and what-not, but stupid me, I forgot it was Migraine Week, and I picked up some kind of a bug that made the lymph nodes in my neck all puffy and made me all tired, so I was just sleeping a lot.

I did manage to do one thing, though; I made broccoli salad. I had been meaning to make some broccoli salad for a while, as I had tried it at the deli in Stater Bros., and I was pretty sure I could make it for far less than the $5.99 per lb. they were charging for it. So, I got all the ingredients, about $10 worth (which may not seem much, but we are on a budget) and made a huge batch. So that was what I had done tonight.

But now, sadly, I will never be able to eat my broccoli salad. I have gone off it.

"Why?" you ask? Well, I'll tell you why. The Spouse Sparrow, who had been slagging off my broccoli salad all night, telling me how minging it was, decided to have some.

Of course, I didn't find this part out until he boked it all up over my side of the bed, my pillows, and my side of the bedroom, floor and walls and baby crib included. Oh no, I never would have known he had eaten any broccoli salad if the entire bedroom, including exercise bike, shoes, dressers, and spare blanket were not covered in little broccoli florets. The carpet is drenched, as before he ate the broccoli salad, he drank an assload of vodka, followed by a lot of water, apparently.

He then went on to liberally coat the hallway and the bathroom in tiny chunks of greenery. Yes, there was also carrots, as the broccoli salad had carrots in it. My only saving grace is that I was at the computer, and not in the bed when he horked. The baby, asleep in his crib, missed getting puked on by about 6 inches. Nice.

I could kill the Spouse Sparrow, I really could. It's left to me, the one with the horrible headache, to mop up the mattress, bedroom, bathroom, etc., while he is passed out on the couch. I'm the one that will be up all night washing pillows, sheets, and trying to pick chunks out of the carpet. I'm the one who'll spend the next 3 days shampooing the carpet in the bedroom and the hallway. I'm the one that is scared of bugs, and now I have to go back and forth to wash all the stuff, out in the garage with all the flying, crawling, and hopping things.

And it really, really chaps my thighs because he fucking well knows that I have a serious phobia, an actual phobia, about people barfing, and he really, really knows I don't like him to drink that much. I don't care if it's part of the British/Irish culture, he's fucking well in America now and he should adjust.

He is passed out on the couch at the minute, as the mattress will have to dry out for a day or so (and will still smell like shite when it does, and let's not forget that smell will be on my side), and I am tempted to smother him with my puked-on pillow. And do you know what's stopping me? The thought of him shitting and pissing on the couch when he carks it from me smothering him. I would kill him, but I'd just have another mess to clean up.

And he actually had the audacity to give me a dirty look when I ordered him out of the bedroom and on to the couch, and provided him with the barf bucket.

Truly, the thrill is gone.

Fat Sparrow

62 comments:

it's the little things... said...

I'm visiting from Hangar Queen's blog, and have enjoyed my romp here. The two posts that stick out in my mind are your doctor having the crush on Spouse Sparrow, and him puking up broccoli.
Seems like you could tie the two together and the crush for good somehow....

Pink Drama said...

this was a fantastic way to start my sunday off. so much better than the anticipation of having to grab some random dude off the street to help me move furniture.

i can't clean up vomit. can't clean up shit. i can barely rake out dishes. it's more than a phobia. it's a smell thing. i have a really bad gag reflex.

you're such a good wife to clean it all up for him.

Common Law said...

Hate that. You should flip the mattress so he's sleeping over the puke part. Also you should make him pay for this forever. Poor Fat Sparrow.

Medbh said...

Holy shit! GROSS!
But also really fucking funny, Fat Sparrow. I almost feel guilty laughing at that because I can't imagine cleaning that up without hurling myself.
Spouse Sparrow is going to be breaking his back making up for this one for a loooong time.

What's in the broccoli salad, btw?

Conan Drumm said...

Put him in the garage, the manky old sot.

Fat Sparrow said...

ITLT -- "Seems like you could tie the two together and the crush for good somehow"

Excellent idea! Next time I'm in there alone... "Doctor, I'm really concerned about my husband. I mean, he drinks a lot and throws up broccoli all over the bed and bedding, and then leaves me to clean it up. Is this normal?"

Unless she's really twisted, that should put her right off him.

PD -- "i can't clean up vomit. can't clean up shit. i can barely rake out dishes. it's more than a phobia. it's a smell thing. i have a really bad gag reflex."

Do NOT, under any circumstances, have children. Their sole reason for existence is to barf and crap.

I understand about that bad gag reflex thing, we all have it, too. Now I can't even open up the fridge without feeling like I'm going to be sick, thanks to the smell of the broccoli salad.

"you're such a good wife to clean it all up for him."

Ha. It's not like he was going to do it. It was either clean it up, or leave it there soaking into the bed and carpet 'til he woke up the next afternoon, probably having forgot all about it.

Common Law -- "Hate that. You should flip the mattress so he's sleeping over the puke part. Also you should make him pay for this forever. Poor Fat Sparrow."

He's in there right now, looking like death warmed over, trying to flip the mattress and box springs. Our bedroom is crammed to the gills, and if he dings my antique vanity, it's walking papers for him. Grrrr.... He attempted to apologize. Bad idea; I'm still in kill mode, as I developed a migraine, and I couldn't take my migraine pills, as they knock me out and he was in no condition to look after the sprog.

Medbh -- "Holy shit! GROSS! But also really fucking funny, Fat Sparrow. I almost feel guilty laughing at that because I can't imagine cleaning that up without hurling myself.
Spouse Sparrow is going to be breaking his back making up for this one for a loooong time.
"

I imagine that, like so much else in my life, it would be fucking hilarious if it wasn't happening to me. It was pretty bad, because just a few hours earlier I had stuffed myself like a turkey with that same broccoli salad, so I was having to clean it up with the taste of it in the back of my mouth the whole time. And yes, he can either try making up for it, or take the divorce papers, his choice. I'm assuming he's going to try and make up for it, as Mr. Gentleman has just gone out to the crapalanche that is our garage to try and find the carpet scrubber.

"What's in the broccoli salad, btw?

Basic recipe, eyeball the amounts for how much you want to make: You take a lot of broccoli heads, chop them up or pull them apart into bite-size pieces, along with some bacon, boiled and chopped fine, some cashews, a carrot (grated fine), some mild red onion, a can of mandarin oranges (save the juice) chopped fine, and then you take a whole lotta mayo, mix in the mandarin orange juice with it, and pour it over and mix it in with all the ingredients.

If you haven't had to clean it up as barf, it's really lovely. I have a huge batch all made up in the fridge, if you'd like some.

Conan -- "Put him in the garage, the manky old sot."

If I could have dragged his carcass out there, and if there was a spare inch of room in that garage, I probably would have.

Manuel said...

Bwahahahaha! Sorry but that is as funny as fuck. Please tell me you rubbed his nose in it, literally speaking. Funnily enough I had broccoli and chicken curry yesterday and feel great today. Arse like a waterfall all the same...

Sorry bout your bad day/night, I really am....

Grump said...

The Brits opened Australia as a prison away from home and sent their heavy drinking English/Irish/Scottish drunks over here. So we have a culture of Spewing as it is fondly known here. So when spouse sparrow is up and about again and in a happy mood, tell him you have bought him a one way ticket to Australia preferably Darwin [The most number of drinks per head of population] and he can die gracefully in the arms of a drunken comrade.
Cheers

Fumier said...

You deserve better, FS. Come to Hong Kong and be treated properly.

Fat Sparrow said...

Manuel -- "Bwahahahaha! Sorry but that is as funny as fuck. Please tell me you rubbed his nose in it, literally speaking."

No, dammit, I should have thought of that.

"Sorry bout your bad day/night, I really am...."

Yes, yes, just hold down your chortling and pass me my tay and sympathy, ya will ya will ya will.

Grump -- "So we have a culture of Spewing as it is fondly known here."

Oh lordy, another reason to not go to Australia. Thanks for the warning.

"So when spouse sparrow is up and about again and in a happy mood, tell him you have bought him a one way ticket to Australia preferably Darwin [The most number of drinks per head of population] and he can die gracefully in the arms of a drunken comrade."

Hahaha, does that mean he would qualify for the Darwin award? Fucking brilliant.

Fumie -- "You deserve better, FS. Come to Hong Kong and be treated properly."

You had me at "come."

Mermaid of Moorgate said...

Ow - that sounds awful. I'm sure it was the salad, and not the gallons of vodka spouse sparrow decided to down... obviously.

There are help groups actually for people who have emetophobia (fear of puking). Perhaps there is also one for broccolophobics?

Manuel said...

Oh and boke is a great word...

savannah said...

did blogger eat my post? i left you my recipe for broccoli salad and what i thought was a funny reply?
:(

Arabella said...

Is it too late? Does he have a credit card? Take it, and baby, to hotel and do not return until he's cleaned the entire house. Twice.

No green veg for me today.

Caro said...

Sorry for laughing but that is hilarious. I was trying to think of something he could have eaten that would have been worse to clean up but nothing comes to mind...

Conan Drumm said...

Hmm, now I'm thinking Spouse Sparrow's Patented Piccallili... if he's not been uxorially terminated.

Method: fill a raw haggis with vodka, add a bit of water to dilute... add large quantity of broccoli florets... bits of bacon, bits of carrot, mandarin oranges, and mayonnaise etc (a drop or two of bile helps). Agitate, then leave to ferment. Seal collecting jar over haggis opening for when it spontaneously combusts.

EmmaK said...

Truly, the thrill is gone.

God you're so picky. You have such a great husband and all he does he puke a great green cascade all over the soft furnishings and you say the romance is dead! You are right, barfing is an integral part of Irish/British culture. We barf at birthday parties to wish someone happy birthday and we chunder at New Year's Eve. It's all about saying, I can't take my drink but I'm certainly not going to stop drinking. I think marriage counselling is in order here, he sounds great ;)

vrai said...

Gadz! Flip that mattress around and give him the shite side. That is, if you ever let him in the bedroom again.

At the very least aim for 'em next time you have the stomach flu.

First Nations said...

*snif* that was beautiful, man...


*snork*
*fnar*

..no really. it was. i'm not laughing.


*ffffbbbptsnork!*

fatmammycat said...

Oh bleaugh! Other people's vomit is vile. I can barely handle my own, but other folk's carroty goodness, yack.
The paramour can hold his drink, holds it tight like a camel's arse in a sandstorm, but mix whiskey into the games and all manner of shit is likely to happen. In fairness to him he knows this and doesn't drink the uisce beatha in any great quantities but last time he did he put mini pizzas under the grill, fell over in the garden, forgot all about the pizzas, set off the gire alram and ended up sleeping on the sofa with his neck at a 37% degree angle, while his brother slept on the floor by his feet, which is where I found them, and more inportantly-left them.
After I put out the oven, I left a basin by theirheads and went back to bed.
I'm just trying to say, men.

Crystal said...

I would kill him, but I'd just have another mess to clean up.


i just laughed so hard, i peed. you don't have to clean it up though.

Pink Drama said...

i can't even change my nephew's stinky diapers without trying to throw up. the child just thinks that is hilarious, and tries to copy the sound. he's got issues.

Conortje said...

right, I'm fairly sure I won't be eating broccoli for a long while either after reading this.

Fat Sparrow said...

Mermaid -- "There are help groups actually for people who have emetophobia (fear of puking)."

The problem wih most phobia groups is that they eventually want me to actually confront what I'm terrified of. It's really much easier to have puking people shot, say.

You know all those zombie movies where people stand around and argue after someone's been infected, waiting to see whether they'll turn or not? I would have killed them first and not waited to find out.

Manuel -- "Oh and boke is a great word..."

It is, isn't it? Getting an imported husband just opened up a whole new linguistic world for me.

Savannah -- "did blogger eat my post? i left you my recipe for broccoli salad and what i thought was a funny reply? :( "

It must have, sorry, because I didn't get it. That's all right; I won't ever, ever be needing any recipes for broccoli ever again.

Arabella -- "Is it too late? Does he have a credit card? Take it, and baby, to hotel and do not return until he's cleaned the entire house. Twice."

Hahaha, like he's going to clean up the mess? The only "hotels" around here are the kind that rent by the hour. I don't think they take credit, although they may very well take trade. Not that I'm going to find out.

"No green veg for me today."

I don't blame you one bit.

Caro -- "Sorry for laughing but that is hilarious. I was trying to think of something he could have eaten that would have been worse to clean up but nothing comes to mind..."

It was fairly gnarly.

Conan -- "Hmm, now I'm thinking Spouse Sparrow's Patented Piccallili... if he's not been uxorially terminated.

Method: fill a raw haggis with vodka, add a bit of water to dilute... add large quantity of broccoli florets... bits of bacon, bits of carrot, mandarin oranges, and mayonnaise etc (a drop or two of bile helps). Agitate, then leave to ferment. Seal collecting jar over haggis opening for when it spontaneously combusts.
"

Yah, that's picalilli all right. The Fledgling Sparrow's at her grandparent's, so I've appropriated her bed and bedroom, as our bedroom still fucking well reeks. I complained about it, and the Spouse Sparrow said "I can't smell anything." I guess he likes his own brand, or he is just immune to nasty-smelling things thanks to years of British food.

EmmaK -- "God you're so picky. You have such a great husband and all he does he puke a great green cascade all over the soft furnishings and you say the romance is dead!"

Yep, that was his view, all right. He had kittens when he found out I put up a post about it. Serves him right. I mean, what the fuck does he think I have a blog for?

"You are right, barfing is an integral part of Irish/British culture. We barf at birthday parties to wish someone happy birthday and we chunder at New Year's Eve. It's all about saying, I can't take my drink but I'm certainly not going to stop drinking. I think marriage counselling is in order here, he sounds great ;)"

I thought AA was in order. I'm still weighing the pros and cons of popping a cap in his ass. Does marriage counseling help with decisions like that?

Vrai -- "Gadz! Flip that mattress around and give him the shite side. That is, if you ever let him in the bedroom again."

He flipped the mattress and the box springs so that the pukey bits are on his side. Unfortunately there is no way to move the puked on carpet that is on my side.

"At the very least aim for 'em next time you have the stomach flu."

We don't mention s****** f**. We don't want to be jinxed. And that probably wouldn't gross him out, anyway.

But, you have given me a brilliant idea for the next time I have my period and he is sleeping.... I wonder if I can convince him his eyeballs bleed in his sleep? Or maybe his nose?

FN -- "*snif* that was beautiful, man...*snork*
*fnar*..no really. it was. i'm not laughing. *ffffbbbptsnork!*
"

Traitor.

The Spouse Sparrow's been going on now about how great he is, and how many women would want to snap him up, and I should consider myself lucky. I told him to invite a few of them over to clean the carpet, after he's given them the ride.

FMC -- "I'm just trying to say, men."

Yeah, you can't kill them legally and I can't switch teams 'cause I like the man meat. Damn.

Crystal -- "i just laughed so hard, i peed. you don't have to clean it up though."

Thank God for small mercies...

PD -- "i can't even change my nephew's stinky diapers without trying to throw up. the child just thinks that is hilarious, and tries to copy the sound. he's got issues."

Have you seen that video that was on "America's Funniest Home Videos" a few years back, where some dad goes to change his kid's diaper, and ends up puking?

I got the Ex to change most of the Fledgling Sparrow's diapers, and the Spouse Sparrow changes most of the Nestling Sparrow's diapers, so I'm mainly off the hook on that one.

Conortje -- "right, I'm fairly sure I won't be eating broccoli for a long while either after reading this."

That's a shame, because I have an assload of it in the fridge, and I can't throw it out, because I'm pretty sure my Sainted Grandmother would make sure I go to hell if I waste food. Nausea and guilt, what a combination.

Mermaid of Moorgate said...

Send all that broccoli to conan drumm. I think he has a great new recipe for love in the making...

Ms Robinson said...

"The thrill is gone"..As a transplant to British shores I've read this and realised that what you just described would count as one of life's great moments for the average bloke here?

Fat Sparrow said...

Mermaid -- "Send all that broccoli to conan drumm. I think he has a great new recipe for love in the making..."

You know, you're right. Put it in a jar or tin and it could pass for British food. Not that I am prejudiced.

Ms. Robinson -- "The thrill is gone"..As a transplant to British shores I've read this and realised that what you just described would count as one of life's great moments for the average bloke here?"

Yep, I have found out that there are a couple of drawbacks to having married an import. But on the plus side, it keeps the blog folk entertained. The Spouse Sparrow has offered to shit himself in public while wearing white trousers if I get writer's block.

Medbh said...

Very kind of Spouse Sparrow to offer to take one for the blog. If he put on white pants the morning after a night of lots of vodka and broccoli, oh boy, it wouldn't take much for him to fill them up with poo.

Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

Grim. Broccoli vomit? Grim.

Fumier said...

"You had me at 'come'".

You came in my dreams last night, FS. Nearly woke the neighbours!

Fat Sparrow said...

Medbh -- "Very kind of Spouse Sparrow to offer to take one for the blog. If he put on white pants the morning after a night of lots of vodka and broccoli, oh boy, it wouldn't take much for him to fill them up with poo."

No way in hell am I tempting fate with that vodka/broccoli combination again.

Sam -- "Grim. Broccoli vomit? Grim."

'Twas, extremely.

Fumie -- "You came in my dreams last night, FS. Nearly woke the neighbours!"

That would be me, all right.

Was I good?

Wait a minute, what am I thinking? Of course I was.

Lolly said...

I can even begin to imagine all those millions of teeny tiny broccoli sprouts...

NiolK said...

Typical woman! He tries some o' your salad just to be nice and all you do is complain, the poor lad.

I think in all fairness for makin the fella sleep on the couch in his weakened state that you owe him a free shag when he gets better.

Grump said...

The Darwin award. If Spouse sparrow is the father of fledgling sparrow then no he wouldn't be eligible for the award. I think you have to die before you pass your genes on. But still he would/could die happily drunk.
Cheers dears. x

Camron said...

I'd have killed him. I still think you should hire a cleaners to get the smell out of your house - can't be good for your headaches. If Spouse complains about the expense, remind him that vodka is expensive, so the savings from the vodka he will no longer be drinking should cover it.

I'm glad he missed the baby - not that she'd notice, really. A baby covered in puke? Why, how unusual!

laughykate said...

I would personally like to thank Spouse Sparrow for boking the broccoli. And while I appreciate the pain he put you through and understand that it's a complete ceeeeeeeeee-unt of a thing to have to clean up, I have to fess up that, selfishly, your pain caused me great joy. I tried to read your blog out loud to those i share an office with but I couldn't. I was trapped in a giggling fit, incapacitated of the power of speech. And it's not that i am encouraging him to do it again, no, no, not at all, however it has to be said Spouse Sparrow Behaving Badly makes for great copy.

Fat Sparrow said...

Lolly -- "I can even begin to imagine all those millions of teeny tiny broccoli sprouts..."

I would have taken pictures, but the camera couldn't even begin to do it justice.

NiolK -- "Typical woman! He tries some o' your salad just to be nice and all you do is complain, the poor lad."

Yes, he's so put upon.

"I think in all fairness for makin the fella sleep on the couch in his weakened state that you owe him a free shag when he gets better."

A free shag? Are you volunteering your services, then?

Grump -- "The Darwin award. If Spouse sparrow is the father of fledgling sparrow then no he wouldn't be eligible for the award. I think you have to die before you pass your genes on. But still he would/could die happily drunk.
Cheers dears. x
"

Technically, according to the rules, the recipients may have already procreated but must be incapable of further reproduction, e.g., death or having their bits lopped off. So he can still qualify.

Camron -- "I'd have killed him. I still think you should hire a cleaners to get the smell out of your house - can't be good for your headaches. If Spouse complains about the expense, remind him that vodka is expensive, so the savings from the vodka he will no longer be drinking should cover it."

Well, the vodka was only $9; if I could find a cleaner that cheap, I'd think about it.

"I'm glad he missed the baby - not that she'd notice, really. A baby covered in puke? Why, how unusual!"

Yes, the Nestling Sparrow's been covered in hork since he was born, due to his feeding problems, but it seems the Spouse Sparrow achieved a high velocity with this last vom. What with the chunks and all, the sprog would have ended up pebble-dashed.

LaughyKate -- "I would personally like to thank Spouse Sparrow for boking the broccoli. And while I appreciate the pain he put you through and understand that it's a complete ceeeeeeeeee-unt of a thing to have to clean up, I have to fess up that, selfishly, your pain caused me great joy. I tried to read your blog out loud to those i share an office with but I couldn't. I was trapped in a giggling fit, incapacitated of the power of speech. And it's not that i am encouraging him to do it again, no, no, not at all, however it has to be said Spouse Sparrow Behaving Badly makes for great copy."

Yep, ironically enough, this is turning out to be one of my more popular posts. I'll probably end up putting it in "The Posts They Love The Mosts" on my sidebar.

The Hangar Queen said...

I'd have lashed the head offa him with a hurly (after he cleaned it up of course)

Bad month for Spouse Sparrow so far isn't it?

savannah said...

you have my vote on this post for sidebar notice, sugar!

Grump said...

what you waiting for then send him over and we will give him the best send off and hopefully the Darwinian judges will give him the award.
Cheers x

xl said...

I have a gag reflex just thinking about broccoli as it, never mind the vomit thing. If spouse xl had done such a thing, short of sickness, it would still be there. I only clean up a mess like that for children and pets.

You are very generous. Here's hoping that you can play that for a really big favor!

Fat Sparrow said...

Devin -- "Bad month for Spouse Sparrow so far isn't it?"

(cue Radiohead) "You do it to yourself, you do, and that's what really hurts...."

Savannah -- "you have my vote on this post for sidebar notice, sugar!"

It's official, then; I'll add it in when I do my next blog tidy.

Grump -- "what you waiting for then send him over and we will give him the best send off and hopefully the Darwinian judges will give him the award.
Cheers x
"

I can't afford a ticket, so I guess I'll have to talk him in to stowing away in the wheel compartment.

XL -- "If spouse xl had done such a thing, short of sickness, it would still be there. I only clean up a mess like that for children and pets."

He was passed out, so it would have gotten dried and crusty and soaked into the mattress even more. It was offending my sensibilities as it was, so....

"You are very generous. Here's hoping that you can play that for a really big favor!"

He has been killing bugs for me right and left, so I'm pretty happy about that.

K8 the Gr8 said...

Fair play to you girl, you're a better woman than I am. I would've scooped up me kids and valuables and buggered off to a B&B or sucker friend for a week.

He must br a dynamo in the bedroom when he's not regurgitating...

Also I'm impressed at the amount of fluid he can hold in his stomach. You should enter him into pie-eating contests and make some money out of him!

Fearfink said...

Fuck me. Well don't let him blame it on the British/Irish thing, sounds to me like he is quite simply a selfish, forever-a-teenager arsehole. You should find some way of letting him repay you for your kindness in clearing this up for him. Believe me, if he were mine, he may not have survived long enough for the puke to dry. I sincerely hope he is tail betwixt his legs and apologising profusely. I sincerely do. Otherwise some dastardly plan must be hatched involving driving to a far off campsite, plying him with voddie heavily laced with industrial strength laxatives and *leaving him there* for days.

Also a note on the British thing, and with the experience of being married to a Brit builder, by saying it's a cultural thing we let them off the hook. It allows them to abdicate personal responsibility because it's *just what they do*. Nope, grow up, develop some responsibility and respect or die. Your choice. Domestic fascism is the only way.

Eddie Waring said...

Well really....I cannot condone that kind of behaviour but have to say...If only you hadn't made the broccoli salad....

iLL Man said...

That's shit FS. I know the baby makes such a move difficult or impossible, but you could have bagged the couch and left him to either sleep in the bath/shower or lie in his own puke and get him to clean it in the morning..

Fat Sparrow said...

K8 the Gr8 -- I am weighing up his redeeming qualities, but I have issues from being previously married to an alcoholic and drug addict.

Fearfink -- "I sincerely hope he is tail betwixt his legs and apologising profusely. I sincerely do."

No such luck.

"Otherwise some dastardly plan must be hatched involving driving to a far off campsite, plying him with voddie heavily laced with industrial strength laxatives and *leaving him there* for days."

Hahaha, I envisioned myself driving off to the middle of nowhere, opening up the car door, and chucking a bottle of Aftershock out of the car and then driving off when he went to chase after it, leaving him wih a slightly puzzled look upon his face and a tentatively wagging tail.

"It allows them to abdicate personal responsibility because it's *just what they do*. Nope, grow up, develop some responsibility and respect or die. Your choice. Domestic fascism is the only way."

Yep, he is always going on about personal responsibility, but when I turned it around on him, he immediately became defensive. He's drinking again tonight, and I swear I will be dusting off my DIY divorce books. It's a hard call, because he has a lot of redeeming qualitites, but I don't know if I can live with the drinking.

Eddie -- *sniff* It was a lovely broccoli salad, so it was.

Ill Man -- I was so upset over the whole thing that if I didn't do something, I was going to have a nervous breakdown. So I reverted to my old nervous energy standby, cleaning.

ExAfrica said...

Unbeknownced to me - I too was lured into the spell of the Broccoli Salad - today at lunch in fact. An HOUR ago.

Oh dear - feeling a bit funny right now. I was thinking of a little tipple to ease into the afternoon - think I'll give that a miss.

Lovely salad, though.

Caoimhin said...

Hilariously funny and a well written story as were the others I've read today! In all fairness to Sprout Sparrow mixing large amounts of mayo with citrus juice could be a bit dodgey on a hot day.

apprentice said...

If only Bruce sang about broccoli!
Anyway I thought he was the bloke that made the Bond movies - what's he doing in salad? Is he diversifying, like Newman did into pasta sauce?

Is your husband Scottish? Cos we don't do green, well not unless it's deep-fried or on a hillside.
I only ask cos you say "shite" which is a good indicator of Scottishness, a sort of verbal litmus test.

Hope the smell has gone. At least it wasn't carrots.

Take care of those glands. Vitamin C is very good...............

Around My Kitchen Table said...

Spouse Table always blames the food when he comes home bladdered after a night imbibing copious amounts of beer. He doesn't puke in the house, though, I always hear him throwing up in the garden - making enough noise to wake the dead in the churchyard a few hundred yards away. Men! Can't live with 'em ...... can't live with 'em.

Conan Drumm said...

It's a July thing. There he is in the US, his genes are screaming at him to throw things at his neighbours, but his only recourse is projectile vomiting.

Joking aside, I hope he realises the error of his ways and is slavishly devoted to you for the month of August, at the very least.

emeraldbile said...

This comment thing is gay - I think I might have posted my reply twice already but fuck it - here we go again
It's God's punishment for you making a salad out of broccoli you dirty bitch. No - your husband sounds like a cunt, there are children starving in Africa, he should be ashamed of himself. But don't stress about it - men are rubbish and do that shit quite often. He is probably jealous of the child - tell him Noreen says he is a poo-sucking gay.
Noreen

Fat Sparrow said...

ExAfrica -- "Unbeknownced to me - I too was lured into the spell of the Broccoli Salad - today at lunch in fact. An HOUR ago. Oh dear - feeling a bit funny right now. I was thinking of a little tipple to ease into the afternoon - think I'll give that a miss. Lovely salad, though."

It definitely does not go well with cheap vodka.

Caoimhin -- "Hilariously funny and a well written story as were the others I've read today!"

Thank you.

"In all fairness to Sprout Sparrow mixing large amounts of mayo with citrus juice could be a bit dodgey on a hot day."

This being America and all, we do have fridges. And I ate it with no problems. In all fairness, I did not wash it down with a quart of vodka, so I was all right.

Apprentice -- "If only Bruce sang about broccoli! Anyway I thought he was the bloke that made the Bond movies - what's he doing in salad? Is he diversifying, like Newman did into pasta sauce?"

Oh, he diversified, all right. He diversified all over the bedroom.

"Is your husband Scottish? Cos we don't do green, well not unless it's deep-fried or on a hillside. I only ask cos you say "shite" which is a good indicator of Scottishness, a sort of verbal litmus test."

Northern Ireland, so Scots Irish.

"Hope the smell has gone. At least it wasn't carrots."

There were carrots.

"Take care of those glands. Vitamin C is very good..............."

The broccoli salad had mandarin oranges in it, but since that source of Vitamin C has been ruled out...

AMKT -- "Spouse Table always blames the food when he comes home bladdered after a night imbibing copious amounts of beer."

Strange how they never blame the drinking, isn't it?

"He doesn't puke in the house, though, I always hear him throwing up in the garden - making enough noise to wake the dead in the churchyard a few hundred yards away. Men! Can't live with 'em ...... can't live with 'em."

Hahaha, if only I could train mine so well. What is it about people making noise when they puke? I mean, I can barf with hardly any noise whatsoever, and yet the Spouse Sparrow absolutely must make a noise like he's turning in to a werewolf from the stomach outward as he gives it the old heave-ho. Is the experience more valid if they let their vocal cords join in the fun?

Conan -- "It's a July thing. There he is in the US, his genes are screaming at him to throw things at his neighbours, but his only recourse is projectile vomiting."

He seems to want to set things on fire, too, so you may be on to something there.

"Joking aside, I hope he realises the error of his ways and is slavishly devoted to you for the month of August, at the very least."

We can hope. Then again, he receives a near-constant barrage of women (and men!) sending him naked pictures, so I may not rate anymore. The pictures are usually amputee midgets having sex, but still.

Noreen -- "This comment thing is gay - I think I might have posted my reply twice already but fuck it - here we go again"

If it's any consolation, Blogger has been a right cunt lately.

"It's God's punishment for you making a salad out of broccoli you dirty bitch. No - your husband sounds like a cunt, there are children starving in Africa, he should be ashamed of himself."

He says the children may come and eat his boke, and be grateful, it's the least he could do.

"But don't stress about it - men are rubbish and do that shit quite often."

If he does it again, all bets are off.

"He is probably jealous of the child - tell him Noreen says he is a poo-sucking gay.
Noreen
"

I have told him, and he says that you may be right. His statement puzzled me exceedingly, until it dawned on me that next thing he will probably be trying to get the ride off you, just to be sure.

Mermaid of Moorgate said...

I think you have something there FS - bottle the stuff and send it off to one of these wanky pretentious placenta-eating hippy restaurants and tell them it's reconstituted broccoli and carrot chowder. Could be a hit with the Hollywood crowd. You could make a mint especially out of people who want to be freaking bulemic.

gimme a minute said...

I can only speak for myself but vomiting without making a noise akin to that of a live marsupial stuffed washing machine on spin cycle is about as possible as sneezing with my eyes open.

I have tried to keep it down. And to do it quietly too.

Fat Sparrow said...

Mermaid -- British food being what it is, I could probably just heat it up and serve it back to the Spouse Sparrow with brown sauce, and he wouldn't know the difference.

Gimme -- I may have to do a survey, to see if this falls along male/female lines.

NiolK said...

Tag! Get off your lazy married arse and do it.

Fearfink said...

I know where you're coming from m'dear.

On a lighter note, was pleasantly surprised by the film The Darwin Awards this week, vee funny. Shower/bath scene had me snorting like a pig whilst crying with laughter. RIP Chris Penn.

Fat Sparrow said...

NiolK -- Damn you! To borrow Fumie's line, "I am very busy and it would take a long time to explain it." Your tag will have to wait 'til I get around to my other tag, from Devin, which I have been putting off.

Fearfink -- "I know where you're coming from m'dear."

I could tell, and it was nice. Thank you.

"On a lighter note, was pleasantly surprised by the film The Darwin Awards this week, vee funny. Shower/bath scene had me snorting like a pig whilst crying with laughter. RIP Chris Penn."

I haven't seen that yet. I am slowly easing back in to the world of grown-up movies. But if anyone needs to write a doctoral thesis on SpongeBob I am well qualified.

lette said...

yeah... Im Irish, I dont drink, but Im an exception! everyone else does!! were a feckin disgrace all the same!! Sorry to hear that Sparrah, Id definatly add to the volume already on the floor if I had to smell a cross between, 'a lot of broccoli heads, chop them up or pull them apart into bite-size pieces, along with some bacon, boiled and chopped fine, some cashews, a carrot (grated fine), some mild red onion, a can of mandarin oranges (save the juice) chopped fine, and then you take a whole lotta mayo, mix in the mandarin orange juice with it, and pour it over and mix it in with all the ingredients....and Vodka' Holy shit!!

im sorry to say, it was funny reading though, but jesus no I wouldnt wish that on anyone! sorry it happened to you!

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