I don’t know who posted this, and I realize the ‘b’ is missing from ‘husband,’ but the video disgusts me.
Oh my god.. https://t.co/kU7aHJPEPD
— Dean Blundell🇨🇦 (@ItsDeanBlundell) January 17, 2023
As a happily single 49-year-old man who lives with his sons in a happy, positive, peaceful, fun, clean, stress-free, predictable, judgment-free, solution-oriented home, I’m not chancing this:
You see, I’m in that sweet spot. Where my three young men are increasingly capable, I have a very peaceful existence and choose who I let into our home in terms of upsetting the ecosystem. There’s ZERO chance I want to take on a partner who thinks she needs to scream for/at me for any reason.
I’m so far past the primitive behavior of screaming to communicate and have had my fill of it that I’d rather spend my remaining years living like a celibate Gollum (no one knows if Gollum ‘got it in’) than be sitting on the couch laughing with the boys than hear “DEAN!! Can you assholes help me with the fucken groceries!”
NAH. I’m golden.
I know this works both ways, and I’m not suggesting all women scream like wartime air warning sirens; I’m saying I’ve been with those women and have severe PTSD when it comes to obnoxiously loud, angry, falsetto noises involving my name in my house or general earshot.
And holy shit, do I ever feel sorry for Bob, Darryl, and Roy. All three of those men have permission to file for immediate divorce.