Mistress of the house



So I’m gradually trying to transform myself into a housewife since I’m home all the time and my wife Africa is always out working, school or drinking with the boys down at the pub and making excuses about working late.

After a solid day of scrubbing the bathroom, I decided to earn my new french maid outfit, that she’s going to get me at her new job at the adult store.  And what do housewives do best besides take speed, screw and gossip on irc? That’s right.  Packing lunches that are the absolute tits.


Alright let’s get this party started.  An empty lunchbox is the housewife’s blank canvas – ready for our art.



After thinking I’m way over my head here, and considering just legging it to Tijuana, I decided to check the lunchbox to see if magic happened while I was thinking. 



It didn’t… I check the fridge out of curiousity. Alas! Left over pizza from last night!  Girls like pizza right?  I’m pretty sure I saw that in Cosmopolitan one time…



 Alright.  Pizza all packed and I managed to battle with the stupid cling wrap, and after 20 minutes of trying to free myself, managed to get the pizza wrapped up.




I remembered Africa saying something about liking to eat either fruit or Boeing commercial  aircraft.  But she was speaking for some lame reason real life doesn’t have log files like IRC does so I just figured I’d take a stab at the fruit thing, since we ran out of 747 yesterday.




After attacking that shit for a while until it formed squares similar to Huey Lewis, I jammed it into a plastic box which we had in the kitchen (???).  I wasn’t entirely sure what that furry thing was but I felt it’s anger against me for the past week now, and I’m pretty sure it was planning on shanking me in the shower, so I put that in the lunchbox to get it out of the house.





I found a plipfishy container which I thought was rad, so I put whatever would fit in there.  Since initial attempts to put exactly 9 eggs in there had failed, I went to plan B.  Peanuts.  I had to eat a few to make them fit, but I did that for her because that’s the sort of committed darling wife I want to be.





45 minutes later the fish box case was closed. Closing the case was a relatively simple procedure and there wasn’t much to note.




I couldn’t think of what else to include, but the lunch still felt like it was missing something.  Of course!  An ADSL line filter/splitter!  Who knows what kind of quality of phone line and internet they have at her new job?  I am prepared for all such incidents.  Again, that’s the kind of dedicated and prepared kitten I gotta be if I wanna make the finals in April.




I managed to slot that into the lunch box without much hassle.






I read somewhere on ebay that it’s thoughtful and sweet to leave an adoring note in the lunchbox for your husband to remember how adoring and dedicated you are, and in addition, to remind them of how amazing you are in bed.




Folded the note neatly to add to the surprise and stave off vampires.





I filled a bottle with water, and one with vodka for myself for later.  I’m pretty sure I gave her the right one, couldn’t be bothered checking right now.  I wouldn’t mix something like that up.



And there you have it.  Only hours later and you have completed your chores for the day and are free to IRC. 

Stay tuned to plipfishy.net.au in 6 months time for the next post when I do something other than internet!