My Big Fat Gypsy Mouth

Please tell me you've seen that show on TLC, "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding."  If you haven't, you are missing something pretty...um, well...mind-boggling.  And I am hooked like a fish.

Normally, I don't watch shows on the channel that inflicted the Gosselins, the Duggars and that moron attention whore from Alaska on the American People but when I saw a blurb for BFGW, I  knew that this would definitely be Must See TV.

And it's been All That AND a Caravan of Chips.

The first time I had heard of Gypsy/Traveller Weddings was when someone sent me an article about a 16 year Traveller girl's wedding and it was so over the top, I was trainwreck fascinated.  And knew I must learn more.

If you haven't seen the show, well, you are missing out is what I'm saying.  It's like Jersey Shore without the drinking, the sex, the profanity and, well, the cast of Jersey Shore.

Instead, we get to see 16 year old girls getting married in these absolutely flabbergasting dresses

There was even a bride who had a light up dress!  You can't make this shit up!

Must haves for a Gypsy teen bride include gallons of spray tan, false eyelashes, gobs of makeup and lots and lots of skin showing:

Klassy.

I love this show.

In other news, I've mentioned a time or two that the lease on my gas-guzzling 2008 Saturn Vue (15 mpg city, people) is coming to an end this Sunday and who is more excited to see the last of that car?  This gal.

However, it has been a bone of contention between TheManTheMyth and myself to the point my eye has been twitching like crazy, something that only happens when I am REALLY stressed and livid.

After sending me out to test drive various new cars over the last month or two, TheManTheMyth then informed me that no, I would not be getting a new car, that I didn't NEED a new car and that we (he) would not be spending any money on a new car when a cheap old used car would be perfectly adequate.

Cheap.  Old.  Used.  Car.

Exsqueeze me?

Baking powder?

Let's just say I had to leave not only the room but the house when he made that pronouncement because I needed to go and punch a tree instead of punching my husband, that's how pissed I was.

What *I* have in mind:

What *HE* has in mind:

So I'm fuming and seething and I vent to my sisters, who both agreed that I had every right to be upset.

 

But a couple of days later, I calmed down and went back into research mode and found a couple of lightly used sedans that I deemed suitable.  And I printed up the information and left it sitting on my desk while I ran errands.

TheManTheMyth just *happened* to see the info sitting there on my desk and he was much more inclined towards these cars than buying a brand new car and told me to look into it, that he was good with my choices.

And I'm all, "Whew!" because I had visions of him coming home with a Brand New 1976 Tomato Red Saab and saying, "Look honey!  Your new car!" 

Which actually happened.  My dad came home one day, in 1976, with the ugliest car in the ugliest Tomato Red color we had ever seen  and presented it with a flourish while we were all, "What the hell is THAT?"

Anyway.

We're talking about the price of these cars I had picked out and whether or not we could get an even better price because one of the cars is at a dealership where I could turn in my leased Saturn and we're talking and I'm thinking, "Yay, I'm actually going to get a car I won't cringe at every time I have to get behind the wheel" when I had to open my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth and everything came to a screeching halt.

Me and my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth just HAD to mention the buy-out price of my Saturn, which is $3,000 less than the cars I put forth for his consideration.  And even as the words were coming out of my Big Fat Gypsy Mouth, the voice in my head was screaming, "Shut up.  Shut. Up. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

Did I listen to that voice telling me to shut the fuck up?

That would be "No."

And TMTM says, "If it's only that much, then we'll just keep your car" and I'm all, "No no no nononononononononono.  NO!!" at the same time I'm asking myself, "When will you learn to keep your Big Fat Gypsy Mouth shut, ya dipshit!"

And I sputtered and said stoutly, "We are NOT KEEPING MY CAR!  It gets TERRIBLE gas mileage!  I go through a tank of gas a week!" and TMTM says, "Well, you don't drive anywhere and it's probably a small tank" and I show him proof that a) I do drive enough to go through a tank of gas a week and 2) it's got a 19 gallon tank and he says, "Well, just don't drive so much" and that, Your Honor, is why he needed killing.