Folks, do you even realize what you’re getting into when you hook up for life? Getting married, I mean. Well, it’s my civic duty to let you know that there’s a new study out that says married women folk are heavy drinkers. Matter of fact, while the hubbys cut back, wifeys turn up the bottle more. They also drink more than widows, divorcees AND single women folk! Ain’t that a bitch?
Which may explain why I haven’t partaken in nuptials a second go-round. It could also be that there’s so much riff-raff out there, that only Lord knows if I did end up marrying one of them, I’d end up drinking like Hemmingway and cutting my damn ear off too. Who knows? I won’t win for losing with these folks somewhat in my DNA. However, I do watch enough Lifetime to know how to put ole dude away should he piss me off to the highest of pisstivity. Not that I would but you develop all kindsa skills in your repertoire when you watch Lifetime.
Now, I wanna ask you married women folk a question or two ’cause y’all need to stop popping corks AND babies, if that’s the route you’re going. You know who you are. But then again, maybe you’re in denial, which is why this post serves as an intervention of sorts. Now, when I was married, I’m gonna be real honest with you. I didn’t drink ’cause I don’t drink. I like every part of a drink except for the alcohol content. And I’m not coordinated enough to smoke weed or nothing. You know, you have to know how much to inhale and blow out and I ain’t smart enough to figure it out. I could probably ask Bill Clinton though. Or maybe not since he didn’t inhale.
Shit, turns out I don’t have a question after all. But just so you drinking married women folk feel better about your “condition,” there’s also a study that says married folk live longer than unmarried folk. That being the case, I could go any day now. Unlike yourself, you get to live out a long life with a bottle in one hand, and if your marriage is really screwed, a nicotine stick in the other. I don’t know how common law situations fit into this equation. I mean, there’re no papers to hold folk together in that case, which, personally, would drive me to drinking if he was paying the rent and I was, say, working at Mickey D’s.
Now, you might be rolling your neck and snapping your fingers, saying to yourself, “Totsy, you’re hatin’ and I ain’t stud’n this shit you’re talking. Jive ass turkey.” And you could be one-fourth of a percent absolutely correct. I really can’t be all that sure about your declaration, having gone through the fire once already and I won’t elaborate -ahem - at this point since certain – ahem - folk read this here blog. Not talking about you reading it but you know - ahem, ahem, cough, cough, choking…certain folk.