These gifts are from back to October, 2016.
I tell ya what, my first wife must have cooked me a mean as feed or something for me to pull out these two uncharacteristic gifts.
The wrapping leaves a lot to be desired and I certainly aren’t puffing my chest out in pride with that element of gifting but they were real life gifts so deserve to make the cut.
#Spoiltmuch
I would like it noted please that although the latest All Black loss to the Wallabies at Suncorp was a direct result of my attendance, unlike when the French government sent secret agents to blow up Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warrior ship in Auckland, New Zealand, I did not have intent to carry out the act. It’s true, I do feel dirty and ashamed like a traitor found out but although there are similarities between that 1985 espionage attack I make full admissions from the outset, so there is no need for a fully fledged investigation to prove my guilt.
For what it’s worth New Zealand, I whole heartedly apologise for the role I played in that Bledisloe loss and for my actions bringing the All Blacks into disrepute by attending that test match and the subsequent result *bows head in shame.
With that admission of guilt out of the way, I can now touch on the fact that apart from the outcome, it was a fucking good night out with our family and some good mates.
Even though cunty cancer has changed our lives, it’s nice to still do normal shit together.
My first wife even did better than a couple of the players red carded because unlike them she survived the entire encounter, and then some.
It was a massive day with visitors coming earlier including a local good samaritan I know through work called Alix from Night Ninjas. She came around with a home cooked feed to share with us.
My first wife ain’t drinking piss yet but I’ve got her back and am supporting the both of us in that task. For the record, I’m going great guns at it too. Level expert, even.
With COVID-19 as it is, social distancing at bars has changed the scene massively. So instead of drinking piss before the game in a bar outside the stadium where we talk rugby in such close confinement like locks in a scrum, we had to and drink piss and talk rugby in such close confinement like locks in a scrum, inside the stadium.
One of those people we did that with though was a real good good cunt who’d starred in a number of these blogs earlier on. Reintroducing our favourite surgeon, Peter Yuide. He’s got a weird as fuck last name that’s pronounced like ‘eyed’ (as in one eyed Aussie ref) but with a ‘y’ in front… well kinda.
He doesn’t tend to catch up for beers with all his victims, or patients as he prefers to call them but I think there’s something about us being a spastic cunts that he likes (or at least my spastic-ness). So fuck yeah; we’re keen as to drink piss together at Suncorp.
It was especially nice for my first wife who got to show off her scar again. In front of 30,000 people she done her equivalent of a bikie rootbag responding to a ‘show us ya tits’ chant from a bunch of pissed cunts. Only differences being nobody was chanting it and it wasn’t her tits she pulled her top up to display but the now famous scar on her guts.
In her ever innocent manner though, she did look at me and ask ‘Can I show my wound to Peter? Can I?’. Fuck yeah, of course you can honey!
Peter did tell my first wife that both her and her scar are looking really well and that was before he started drinking piss, too.
Unlike us in the cheap seats though, Peter being a fully qualified surgeon was in a corporate box with some other big wig surgeons. For the couple of you who told me ya missing my quotes in these blogs, I’m bringing a couple back in this one.
Quote of the Day:
Me: Where you sitting mate?
Peter: Mater Hospital have a corporate box and I’m in there with some other doctors.
Me: Oh that’s nice. I think we’ve probably paid for the whole thing ourselves with the bills we’ve paid so far. You’re welcome.
Marjana just had her fortnightly blood test done yesterday and as I write this we’re in the middle of Chernobyl Day as she’s getting her chemo fill.
She’ll be having another CT scan next week to see how her cunty cancer is reacting to the chemo.
If I didn’t already know my first wife was half deaf I’d think the chemo had affected her hearing. The other day she was singing along to that new AC/DC song ‘Shot in the Dark’ and with that comes your next quote of the day…
Marjana (singing): I shot the dog…
Me: What?
Marjana: I shot the dog.
Me: What the fuck, man. No, it’s Shot in the Dark.
Marjana: I wondered why they wanted to shoot a dog.
Talking about animals, we had a massive storm about a week ago and both our cat and dog were scared as fuck. Bella hates thunder like I hate political correctness and we found out Pudding does too as she literally shit herself, the little cunt.
It was in our ensuite and for those who recall my cat whispering ways when she pissed on my clothes and are now reading to see if I did the equivalent and shat on my cat…
No, I did not shit on my cat.
She made the effort to shit on our mat and not on my clothes and I kinda appreciated the effort she went to. It’s the little things in life, aye.
Actually, Pudding is going to star in another story very shortly but going back to this one under The Cancer Chronicles topic, I imagine these posts appear less and less about the dealing with cancer in the first person than previously. For us, that’s actually a fucken good thing ya know… and believe me, it ain’t all rosey and perfect and shit like these posts portray.
But we have to be as positive as we can and try to live a bit normal even if my first wife’s husband isn’t.
This one isn’t so much a gift, but a hunting ground for great presents.
I took this photo on my first wife’s birthday in February 2016.
I can’t recall what I actually gave her for her birthday but on this occasion, it’s the thought that counts, aye.
Have had a bit of time to think lately and yes it still hurts like a motherfuck when I do that thinking thing.
It would be easy to take the view that our life is pretty fucked right now. I don’t think many could really argue that too much, considering.
But fuck that shit, man!
Since we started this cunty cancer journey heaps of positives have come out of it.
Yeah, there’s plenty of negatives too; like my first wife having her guts ripped out, her beautiful thick hair thinning out and my guts doing the exact opposite, having to change to a way blander diet (ok, maybe not me and the boys so much but she has), dehydrating ourselves tear by tear by tear… I could go on but that’d be looking for the negatives.
In honour of all you Playschool loving kids out there today we aren’t looking through a square, round or even an arched window but a the thankful window. Gotta love those thankful windows, man.
Just like yesterday and every day prior so far, we didn’t wake up dead. That can have it’s own ‘yeehaa’.
My first wife can be a raggety ol’ hag when she’s pissed off with me but she does have the most beautiful smile and already this morning she’s shared it with me heaps. Not so much a couple days ago though ‘cos she was perfecting her annoyance skill.
We have also reconnected with heaps of people who we hadn’t seen for ages and we didn’t even have to die to do it. Usually those ‘we should catch up more’ comments only really eventuate at funerals after some cunt died.
People have offered and provided so much to us as a family. Some we have accepted, some we even accepted without even knowing we had done so until after the fact and some offers we haven’t taken up because seriously man, how the fuck do you respond to those ‘if you ever need anything let me know’ comments? It’s kinda a hard one aye. But to those people who still want to help us, just keep being good cunts.
This morning the ol’ girl was trying on heaps of old dresses that no longer fit because I’d turned into a fat cunt and she was building reserves for winter and neither of us were the skinny like worms people we used to be. Who’d have thunk it, but all those years that her clothes had been stashed away in the hope that one day she might get bowel cancer and lose heaps of weight would finally pay off.
Because she now fits them, I don’t need to buy her new clothes. It’s like going to the Op shop and picking clothes off the shelf for free that you already love because you already decided that when you bought them the first time around. Saves heaps of time and money and none of you sheilas even think about bringing up the ‘no longer in style’ argument because all styles (fuck even the 80s) come back into fashion.
See what I mean about all these positives?
Since joining a bunch of online cancer groups we have again realised how lucky we actually are. Cancer really is a cunt of a thing. Hearing all these real life stories and experiences of how cancer has fucked good people over is so so so sad. It certainly makes me very much appreciate that although my cook has stage four cancer, she ain’t half as fucked up as heaps of other people who have already lost loved ones or are way more fucked up and therefore have a cunt of a life as a result.
So here’s a big ass ‘FUCK YEAH’ for our situation being as good as it can be.
Considering it’s Marjana’s good week she hasn’t really been the flashest to be honest and has felt a bit shit. She still has that vertigo thing hanging around, doesn’t have heaps of energy and is a bit wonky on her feet.
But the All Blacks pulled off a bloody great effort against the Wallabies last Saturday and the Maroons came back and pipped those New South Wales Mexican bastards from south of the border in Origin One.
The All Blacks (ABs) play the final Bledisloe Cup game at Suncorp tonight too. Initially we weren’t gunna go ‘cos my first wife wasn’t up to it but she’s keen as so we’re off to watch that game with some good mates.
Just on that note, I seriously considered not going as a national service to my country because every single time I watch the ABs play at Suncorp they lose. A few of my Aussie mates really want me to go for that reason alone. Maybe I should get ’em to buy me tickets to all their test matches in the hope I am their nemesis 😉
But we have already won this year’s Bledisloe so I’m going anyway. The Wallabies will even be in with a chance tonight, not only because I’m going but also the fact the AB’s grabbed some Under 11s primary school kids to replace some of the senior All Blacks. It kinda evens it up so if the coaching staff are willing to take a chance, then so am I.
Things may change for us and all my posts won’t be this positive but for now, this beer followed by this Jagermeister is for appreciating the good things in life.
Following on from an amazing gift (#2), I decided to spoil my first wife with the cream to the cake for which she had already been gifted.
I do feel though that I let my gift wrapping skill slip drastically with the presentation but this gift did give her alternative option for those more tired days.
Guess you could call this one ‘a gift of leisure’.
The wrapping is a mix of tie down straps for my trailer and a photo edit squiggly colour thing to for the ribbon effect.
Answer: To put y’all out of your misery, the shape underneath the wrappings in #3 Gifts for my first wife was a… lawn mower. I know right… 😉
Any idea what this one might be though…?
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