To see all the bullshit stories/rants/petty grievances of Kieran’s Humor go to https://kieranhumor.com. I can't play for my fucked-up tennis team because of my fucked-up knee. Just when I was going to release the perfect whine to earn some free points with the wife (one of the secrets to a long marriage is sublte and mutual manipulation) that got fucked up too. Walking out of the doctor's office after my platlette shots, the knees were starting to feel the pinch of having 2 figurative sacks of potatoes stapled to each MCL. The wife was sitting in the waiting room. Her face filled with "concern" -- that shit is usually reserved for sick children or injured puppies. Cue the Eminem music in my head: "I've got one shot Later her patience will expire, and I will have to get up and pour my own damn beer. I sat down next to her. I reached down to rub both knees and really sell it. A rub, a wince and a little whine could get me out of housework for an entire weekend. Just then the front office person walked around the desk and into the waiting room. She had on tight white paints in that skinny jean style these douchebag millennials love. She's early 20-something, fit. The wife catches me looking, and we both notice something. She has a prostethic leg. I can tell the wife sees it too.
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Thursday, 24 October 2024
Whine Killer
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