I’m Off Like a Used Rubber: It’s in the Vows: Diary of an Author’s Husband

So, I have been talking with the CEO (D. Fischer) on changing ‘diaries.’ I wanted to change the subject name of my posts to something cooler.
She wanted diaries.
And like all good, strong, husband and wife, rational give and take discussions, we had compromised.
It’s going to stay ‘diaries.’ Don’t fight it. She’s scary.
So, I may have to do some research and check on how to properly write a diary entry. I will start that on the next post.
Maybe.
Probably not.
Definitely not. I’m a man. The man.
How has everyone been? It has been terrible…just terrible here. It’s been freezing cold and we’ve been stuck inside…in close proximity to one other. With no place to hide.
Does anyone know how easy it to annoy your wife just by breathing?
I do.
Kinda like how Aiden feeds off people by eating their fears. This is the current snitch-u-ation I’m finding myself in.
Maybe I am just gifted and my fear tastes divine. Either way, the wife beast has woken from hibernation.
But, that is all for now. I need to get off and figure out something to do for Valentines Day. Maybe we will go on a fancy date. I could promise the beast a Whopper if she behaves. The beast is always satisfied when there’s food involved. I’ll even supersize it for her.
Before I sign off, I need your help. I need to figure out a ‘sign off.’ Do I need one? No. Do all the cool guys have one? No. But, despite what D thinks, I’m a trend setter. Because I’m The man.
I don’t want a cop out like “you stay classy,” or “that’s the way the cookie crumbles.”
A crumbling cookie would upset the beast.
I want something with substance. Like “keep breathing fire,” or ” I’m off like a used rubber.”
Anyways. Read her crap. Preorder the new one – the one where everyone kills everyone.
The man, OUT.