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Very mouthy and slightly neurotic retro enthusiast who wants to be everything but doesn't want to leave the comfort of her one house, and finds that being a bookworm can actually be funner than anything else...

Wednesday 16 March 2016

Mr. Pool or is it Mr.Dead ?

It is simply impossible to be a perfect housewife, even if you try your best, so I’ll dedicate this blog to the fact that I can be a naughty housewife as well.


If you’ve seen Deadpool the movie you will understand what I am talking about. Yes, I have a fictional character crush, Mr. Deadpool has put a spell on me and I absolutely adore his anti- heroism and sarcasm that comes in a package with a big ego and charm. And which girl doesn’t like a funny guy who can save her from the most dangerous situation that you can possibly imagine.
Now I have to admit I took my admiration further and started reading Deadpool comics and I love them so I am spending a lot of time with Mr. Dead or Mr. Pool?? He does walk me to my work and spends my lunches with me and he makes me laugh, a lot but when Robert is around I tuck him deep down in my bag.

Ah this is the life of a weird housewife that sniffs too much bleach and likes too many g33ky stuff. I think a strange fantasy of a kickass man in a spandex superhero suit, that can pick you up with zero effort is a perfectly normal thing and the fact that his face is completely unrecognizable doesn’t even matter. Now we all need a superhero and well Mr. Pool is kind of the opposite so it makes him more interesting, you know what they say, girls like bad boys. Oh and let’s keep this between us and maybe not tell Robert that I fancy Deadpool, you know guys and stuff. Oh sugar, he is going to edit this so there is no point hiding this isn’t it??!!

So OK, we’ll take this from a different perspective, I think we all fancy something new and exciting and the fact that I fancy a fictional character there isn’t a big concern because I’ll never meet him so therefore I can freely enjoy my lunch meetings. Plus I think it is a temporary faze that will pass.
At the end of the day I love my Roby, even though he doesn’t have a pair of spandex tights, he is my strong superhero, who can be extremely grumpy and funny and the plus size his face doesn’t look like Freddy Krugers face-fucked a topographical map of Utah so it is a win win situation.


But for the next few months I will enjoy Mr. Pool’s company while nibbling my sandwich and drinking my second coffee and won’t feel bad about it.

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