Ya-Online-Juegos.com | Humor – 8 Signs Your Husband is Addicted to Sports
Posted By Jasper Longfellow on March 29, 2010
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The terms “sports widow” didn’t arise out of vacuum. It’s a real thing! Many wives dread when football season arrives, or basketball, or hockey, or whatever sport their husband’s athletic addiction finds itself adhering to. There just seems to be something about the testosterone surge that switches on during an intense athletic event that captures the male hook, line and sinker.
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Here are some of the ways you can tell if your husband is addicted to sports:
One: He starts talking about the upcoming game days before it arrives. He starts planning the event like it were a sacred holiday. He thinks about what he’s going to have to eat and to drink, both before, during and after the game.
Two: He plans out in advance exactly what he’s going to wear the day of the sporting event. He asks you five times if his lucky shirt has been washed and throws a fit if not and instead is lying in the dirty clothes basket. He can’t possible wear a dirty team shirt on game day.
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They are unduly nervous. Oh well, maybe that is understandable.
Your vampire lover can turn them easily if he chooses to, and…what? You didn’t know he had the skill? Where did you think Zombies, Goblins, and Ghouls came from? Really, and I thought he was your lover. I guess he was unwilling to tell you every little secret.
So here’s what you can do to help if your vampire is unwilling to reanimate the leftovers. All you need is his spit. A drop or two per leftover will be sufficient.
Five: On game day your husband is totally unaware that the dog threw up and that your son has the flu. You know you can’t ask him to keep an eye on your son while you go shopping. You know you’re the one in charge of kids, pets and all other living things, probably until the day after game day.
Six: One hour and three minutes before game time, he arranges his snacks on the coffee table beside the remote. He has on his lucky shirt and his team hat. He turns on the TV and settles in, albeit nervously, to watch the pre-game show.
I understand that the Catholics use one cup for everybody, with a handkerchief to wipe the lip of the cup. But that’s just what we would expect from the godless and un-hygenic Catholics who drank wine and danced, instead of having grape juice like the proper and sanctified and holy Methodists, such as ourselves.
Bobby waited patiently kneeling, craning his neck surreptitiously to see the approach of the cracker platter. He selected a piece of the holy saltine cracker, and the minister-waiter guys moved on to help Bobby’s parents.
Suddenly the holy atmosphere of the solemn ceremony was shattered. Bobby was scurrying around on hands and knees, looking everywhere frantically you can be published without charge. You can to republish this article in your website or blog. Please provide links Active.