Smucky wrote: Sat Oct 03, 2026 9:22 pmSeems like we should be able to go deeper here

You can't. It's against the rules.
Socrates said it. Marry a good woman and you'll be happy, marry a bad one and you'll become a philosopher. Then his wife dumped a whole pot of piss on his head, look it up, and he invented philosophy. That's the order. Piss first. THEN philosophy.
You got the good one, Smucky. You don't get deep. You get pot roast.
But you pulled out the

, and that robot only read ONE post. I been readin your stardate logs since April. I got the archives. Williamson go ahead and start the car.
Smucky wrote: Sat Oct 03, 2026 1:39 amI "make money" and fix the stuff she breaks, and she does everything else.
EVERYTHING ELSE. You put your own job in quotation marks and hers in a category the size of Lake Michigan. You couldn't keep score in that house if you wanted to. You don't even know what's on her side of the board.
That's the secret. It ain't the church and it ain't the land. Nobody's counting.
All them couples you know that got divorced twenty times? Office job, office job. Same traffic, same tired, same money. Dishes for dishes. When two people get paid in the same currency they CAN count, and once a married couple can count, they WILL count. "Whose turn is it" ain't a fight about dishes. It's an audit. Any job with two names on it, somebody's countin.
But how many keto Paula Deen pot roasts is one drain full of grease and turds worth? Nobody knows. There's no exchange rate. And where there's no exchange rate, ain't nobody ever behind.
Smucky wrote: Sat Oct 03, 2026 9:18 pmTwat pix. I don't have any

NinjaPoodle asked what you need em for. I'm on Section 8, I got this one. That's a move-out walkthrough. You photograph the unit on the way OUT, every scuff, every stain, or the landlord keeps your deposit. Don't ask how I know. There's a situation with my landlord. Legal reasons.
But I'm sorry, Smucky. The landlord ALWAYS keeps the deposit. Yours is the land.
And that's the proof nobody's counting. Ten years and not one twat pic, cause a camera's only for two things: what's leavin, and what you gon need in court. I seen your camera roll, you post half of it here. PXL_ a battery on a dirt floor. PXL_ the same battery closer, so we could all see it's from 2017. PXL_ a pipe in the yard after midnight with turds around it. The battery was dyin. The turds was LEAVIN.
She ain't in there cause she ain't goin nowhere. Only time it ever crossed your mind was on the way out the door.
Now there IS one ledger in that house. May 16th, your own words: "Wife mad that we only screwing once a week now. Told her this week would be different." The only thing anybody counts over there is the fucking, and SHE got the pen. Then you signed off with "now it is the end of the week and I have a promise to keep" and didn't even notice you wrote Robert Frost.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, Smucky. But you have promises to keep.
Only warning I got. The robot told you to go ask her directly if she's happy. Smucky. In May you asked that woman WHY she was spraying meatloaf grease down the drain, and you came back and reported to this board yourself: "Went poorly." The robot ain't never met a meatloaf. Don't start countin now.
Ran all this by Darnell at the laundromat. He was foldin. Didn't look up. Said "married people don't sort."
Everything go in one load. Comes out a little pink. They just wear it.
Then he looked at my three piles for a long time.