Wife or Donkey? You be the judge.

I am back. I was just reading that some Hindu party official in the Indian state of Rajahstan (it is a desert state in the west of the country, my buddy Dave was there about 15 years ago and his pictures were awesome, if you like desert sand and dirt poor people, I leave that up to you) compared housewives to donkeys. The comparison went the way of the donkey as better companions as they do not talk back or complain. (I cannot make this shit up.)

Needless to say, the female wing of the Hindu party was none too pleased by this characterization. It did get me to think, though. Would I be better off with my wife or a donkey (by the way, please do not tell her about this post)?

I should do this in private but I think it is funny. Carrying shit, point to the Donkey. Crapping on the floor, tie (kidding), my wife gets that point, she is not one to crap on the floor and if she did I am sure she would clean it up. I know I wouldn't, but that may be why I am not fit to have house plants let alone non-disposable pets (fish, hamsters, though given the rodent issues of the recent past I am not bringing one into this house willingly, unless I am bringing it in to feed to a pet snake).

Okay, so the running tally is Donkey one, wife one. Objectionable odor, point to the wife. She takes pride in her good smell, using perfumes, lotions and such. I just cannot see that with a donkey. I perfume on a donkey would be like an airwick in a sewer, it just won't help. Sex, point to the wife, but don't think that I did not consider donkey sex, it just seemed to awkward for me. From what these Rajahstani men say, there is no piece of ass like ass ass and once you go donkey you are never the, Hee Haw, same.

So as I see it my wife is leading 3-1. We are heading into the stretch here. The donkey certainly does not talk back, but it does not talk, unless, it is like the dog that talked to David Berkowitz telling him to kill (Son of Sam reference to y'all, to go along with my series of serial killer references, see Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy in the archives) only a donkey. If that is the case, a talking donkey does get extra points. I mean there is big bucks to made there. Do you realize how much money Mr Ed made? He would not have been sent to the glue factory but for his love of the speed ball (cocaine/heroin injection, it was what got John Belushi) and young fillies. He blew his fortune and then was forced to work European porn movies to support his drug habit, or Wilbur just blew his money on liquor and babes, either way, you see my point.

My wife wins, unless you, or I, find that elusive talking donkey, in which case all bets are off. Then we have some real deciding to do.

People, especially my family, just do not appreciate this kind of honesty. Oh, goodie, I am hearing James Blunt's "Your Beautiful" on my radio. Please shoot me now. Paul Weller, the mod-father see the Jam, had it right when upon his induction to the British Musical Hall of Fame he was asked to sing a duet with said James Blunt, "I would rather eat my own shit." Listening to this song, I can see where he is coming from. Anyway, I am rambling now about nothing so ciao!