Mr. Gaga responds for the second time in 7 years

Apparently once every 6 years Mr. Gaga feels the need to respond to my audience because he feels attacked.  I am allowing him to respond – because last week I posted about all of the things that husbands don’t do during the holiday season.  He wanted to respond because the truth hurts.

In advance I want to respond to his responses:

#1 – I am doing my best to launder clothes – but I am confused to why this is my problem solely.

#2 – I am trying to not be fat!! So excuse me if I have to fucking cook eggs every morning in an effort to not be obese while you all eat bacon and Cap’n Christmas Crunch!!!

#3 – I lose my keys because I am literally rushing every moment of my life to tend to and care for my home and my children and I don’t have this luxurious time that husbands have to place keys gingerly in on a key hook.

#4 – I sometimes find great pieces of furniture and in an effort to create a delightful home I envision myself refinishing said furniture in some sort of modern amazing way that I saw on Pinterest – but then I get so busy caring for our children that I don’t have time for arts and crafts.

To enjoy more of our live internet domestic holiday disputes see Mr. Gaga’s response to last week’s blog post below:

Dear LADY GOO GOO GAGA,

Oh what an awful life you have! It is not too often I feel the need to defend myself but, certain posts force me to respond. Now why you all sit and read this post, you may be nodding your head sayin, “Ain’t that the truth girl!” Ladygoogoogaga paints a picture of her life living in a sweatshop, doing EVERYTHING for everyone! As part of my response, I will list some things that my wife WILL and WILL NOT do this holiday season…(actually, it’s all year.)
1. Laundry will not be done! Recently, I had to climb over the Mount Everest of laundry just to get to my son’s room. In an effort to help out (she was too busy downstairs watching a show in which middle aged, elitist housewives were talking about their vaginas), I began to place all the dirty laundry in baskets. I grew frustrated when I realized we did not have enough laundry baskets to fit all the dirty laundry that has piled up. Let me remind you, this laundry was not in the laundry room, it was in the second floor hallway outside the bedrooms. Not good. When I yelled down and said I needed a basket – she screamed at me to “figure it out!”  Welcome to my life.
2. She will not clean her dishes. Rather than placed the pans and plates from breakfast in the sink to let soak, the pans and plates, encrusted with egg yolk will remain on the stove until someone else comes home and has to use a blow torch to get the yellow cement-like crust off. This is mainly because she had to rush out in her tennis tutu to a lesson she was late for. Priorities people, duh!!
3. The familiy’s safety and security will be tested. In order for us to stay on our toes and because Lady is SO BUSY with Christmas or any other day of the year, she leaves the house and car keys in the front door each time she gets home. I used to think it was a way for her to remember where she left them the next morning but weekly, I’ll get a frantic call at work asking me if I have seen her keys. My reply always is “Did you check the front door?” Conversation over.
4. She will attempt to restore furniture she has found on the side of the road. That furniture will sit in the garage for six months until finally, I have to throw it out.

5. She will melt your items with her hair tools.  Just today she rested her hot flat iron on my contact case and as a result my case and the contacts inside of them were melted into a puddle on our granite counter.  So there’s that. And by the way her hair does not look that good.

I could go on but it’s now 6:00 am and I have to wake my son up and bring him to intramurals at school because it is way too early for her. She was very busy doing God’s work watching a “Watch What Happens Live” marathon.

He has only felt the need to “respond” one other time in my blogging career and it was also during Christmastime – go figure.  So I figured – I would just let him have the whole post – and I am reposting this response that he wrote in 2011! We had gone to the Christmas tree farm and planned on coming home and decorating the tree. I worked all day and was expecting my 3 year-old and 5 year-old and a tree to be home ready to be trimmed. We were to enjoy a dinner and a tree trimming but he ruined everything as usual, by not coming home until very late. I wanted to murder him for ruining Christmas.

I blasted the shit out of him on the blog and he felt he had to defend himself – so here is his further diatribe about how horrible I am – (AND FUNNY!!) from 2011:

 

Before I start, let me first ask this….no one found it ironic that the Mr. Gaga bashing followed the blog about Lady’s period.

It was set up so perfectly.

A blog about a woman’s period, then  a week later, a story about how awful her husband is.

The night the infamous tree incident reminded me of a scene from 28 Days Later.  (Not just a catchy title, but perfect timing.)

period-eyes

 

This is Lady in the living room window as we pulled up the driveway.  Something about the eyes told me that she was less than happy with me.  We call those “period eyes”.

Now while I could probably write forever on this topic, I was given strict instructions about my “guest blogging”.  I will attempt to keep it short and sweet.

To you all, Ladygoogoogaga,  is funny and witty.

I like to compare her to grandkids.  Grandparents love them. You know why?  Because they go home to their parents at the end of the day.

You bring Lady into your home once a week to make you laugh.  In reality, you close her blog and wait till the next week.  I on the other hand have to live with her for the remainder of the week telling me how funny she is.

“Why don’t you think I’m funny?’  “984 people thought I was funny this week.”

Really Lady!  If you’re so funny, how come your shit ain’t payin the fuckin mortgage?  If you’re so funny, why don’t you go out and buy your own fuckin car instead of stealing mine?

Sorry.  I got off task.  Let me get back to the story.  Two weeks ago, I got suckered into going back to the infamous tree farm.  I had no problem going to Home Depot to get a tree and calling it a day.  I didn’t want to go out to that wretched tree farm anyway.  Lady’s father made me feel guilty. How can I tell this man no?

Long story short, I was ready to pack up around 4:30 pm to go home.  Father in law comes up and says, “Can you do me a favor?”

I knew what he has going to ask me before his mouth opened.  He wanted me to drive his 2 Christmas trees one hour out of my way, to his house because he couldn’t fit them in his car.  That meant I have to drive one hour one way to catch up two hours the other way.  I wouldn’t get home until close to 8:00 pm.  How can I tell this man no?  I couldn’t!

This is the same man who brought me to my colonoscopy, held my hand in the room and drove me home after.  This is all because “Ladygoogoohaha” couldn’t make it due to the “perfect 10 ” beach day.  In a nut shell, while her husband was getting an anally probed by a doctor, WITH HER FATHER HOLDING HIS HAND, she was basking in the sun at the beach.

I ruined the Christmas Tree decorating night?

He was so proud to be there for me.

That being said.  I am not a bad guy.  I go to work.  I don’t beat my wife (though tempting at times).  I love my children.  I do my best to keep things moving smoothly in the house.

Just so you know, when she was  not speaking to me for three days….she actually was actually doing me a favor.  Seriously, you women think you are punishing us when you give us the silent treatment.  It is actually the greatest gift ever.

What she did leave out was the fact that I wake up at 4:30 am to be at work at 5:30 am.    Come home at 5 or 6 at night to high-five her as she walks out the door for book club or some other fucking excuse for a cult she belongs to.

My weekends include play dates with most of the people highlighted in this blog, stupid birthday parties, cleaning up the front yard because apparently if you’re a fuckin comedian like my wife, you can’t pick up a goddamn toy in the yard.  I AM  MR. MOM!

I just got home. Lady had a stand-up gig at The Coconut, so the house was a little messy.

She’s hilarious.

You know what’s funny?

The fact that I keep having to wear my underwears inside out to pretend they’re clean because Lucille Ballgoogoogaga is busy making the world laugh.

Basically, my message is this.  You have no idea what it is like to live with her!  She is like Mommy Dearest, Fatal Attraction, and Misery in one character.  This guest blog is my cry for help. Before you decide that I am an asshole – spend a week in my shoes.  You may change your mind.  Thank you, good night, and god bless…….

Mr. Gaga

 

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