I Don't Own You

I was telling my wife to make sure to use Bleach (as a kid didn't know it was bleach just called it Javex) on my socks and underwear. She said "I won't since you're doing the fucking washing." This was a few years ago. Since then I stopped buying white socks and underwear. Actually laundry duty is not assigned to either one of us, we just do it when the pile is blocking the basement stairs. If the laundry can't be moved out of the way of the stairs well someone has to do it, right? I mean at my age tripping over socks or slipping on semi-damp underwear can be tragic; broken hip, broken arm, an eye pops out.  Truth the wife does the majority of laundry as I just wear same underwear for longer periods of time, but I do the dishes and sweep the floors. The laundry and coloured underwear remind me of when I was such an ignorant insecure selfish man, a jerk. You know one of those guys who thinks they are the boss and use anger hostility jealousy to try control the home. The type of guy who left his underwear on the bathroom floor and wonder what his Dad's underwear is doing there? Well let me tell, I wish I would have listened long ago to a smart strong woman, Mom. It was those damn television shows I blame. Moms always in the kitchen cooking and letting Madge soak their hands in dish soap. This is a distorted version of how a home works, isn't it?

The reason we are talking about dirty laundry (literally and figuratively) is the lock down of the world. Seems there is a rise in domestic abuse. I guess insecure jerks are beating the life out of children and wives. At this point some guy sticks out his chest and huffs, "what the shit, men get beaten too." Yeah, just take a seat Todd and let's deal with majority here okay? The world is taking a big dirty dump and folks are bat shit eating crazy over it. White men and white women are mad they can not go to the hair salon. White men just like an excuse to carry military assault rifles to a public gathering. People are wanting to sacrifice the old, the poor as long as it is not them. People are capable of singing My Baby Loves Loving while the drone strikes on a Muslim country full of kids; there is no crazy pill we will not take. So while the World puts human beings on a time out, some jerks are not willing to Netflix and Chill  (Yo, she wanna Netflix and chill but i wanna get rich and bill). The humans are waving guns, spreading germs and beating women. Old God is Great, the Bible  mentality and thinking of Women as the pack-horse-mule has never disappeared. Men continue to behave and act like Women are property.  This is arse-crunch ugly because these same people are using the argument "liberty, freedom", or in other words "you don't own me." Men (lot of white gun tootin' beer bellied scraggly bearded assholes) are puffing out their chests, stuffing socks in their groins and whining about not going to be able to golf all the while expecting their shit pee stained white underwear to be washed wth bleach (Not me, fuck those white underwear stains, I only wear blue, black or grey underwear). Who do they expect to scrape off the crunch stains?

Do the Laundry I said. 

Why is it we think we own someone? Why are we constantly wanting to lock them down and control them? Could it be we are so cock-munching stupid we can't see how it is part of our sick society? The stool stained underwear is a reflection of our society; dirty raunchy crunchy vile stench and we still think it is fine. We sing along to popular tunes  and ignore our world of shit stained damp underwear and unbleached laundry.

"If you love someone enough you will follow where ever they go. That's how I got to Memphis."  Because you think you own her. Our society is filled with subtle reminders that we think we own her - them. Don't believe me? Listen to Kentucky Rain song by Elvis Hips Don't Lie Presley. In the song story, she runs away but he stalks her. Like many norms in society, we are keenly unaware of how we see things. The Cold Kentucky rain is a beautiful love song and the poor guy is going to get his girl back. Never-mind she is running away from broken teeth, cracked ribs and a house full of shitty shorts. We normalize the ugly and the ugly is we think we own everything (everyone).

So turn around look at the white arse and know this, he don't own shit.

Oh back to my wife. She is not mine even though I say my wife. I tried that, being an owner, worse damn thing I could have done in my life. Now I hope to know better. Oh and my wife never uses the F-word, I kind of embellished that one at the beginning of the story. She says "Oh shit" but never the F-word. 

Crazy Chester followed me and he caught me in the fog
He said, I will fix your rack, if you'll take Jack, my dog
I said, wait a minute, Chester, you know I'm a peaceful man
He said, that's okay, boy, won't you feed him when you can