Leanne can use my stereo. It’s easier to use than the home cinema rig, really.
Last week, I got home to find that even though she can use the Sony ES gear with the NS1000Ms, the Sony/Parasound/Mission rig in the spare room, the other Sony/B&W rig in our bedroom and there was even access to the Behringer DSP amp / Bose 802 speakers I’ve got in for my brothers party…she was, whilst getting ready for a night out of booze and dancing…
Listening to Radio 2 through the Google Home mini speaker.
Great thread btw.
It’s nice to know that others suffer too 
A while back Emma went through a phase of putting things in boxes then in cupboards and labelling the fuck out of them.
Now it seems to be a game of putting things in places where you will never be able to find them.
Where is the fucking dogs whistle? I lovingly ask after an excruciatingly long time looking for it.
It’s in the spice rack of course, just along from the ground nutmeg.
Ffs.
Mark my words.
Smacking screws into plaster board instead of going into a stud
The mind boggles at the opportunities to edit that
Having vents and doors shut in the summer because her and the kids don’t like spiders. It’s Dartmoor not Paddington ffs
Fast forwards the adverts on Sky+ at 30x and overshoots the beginning of the programme by about 5 minutes. Never rewinds back. Ever.
Every single time.
Often being right
Not cleaning up behind me
Hoard.
Especially useless, unwanted paperwork.
Bags and boxes of it hidden everywhere: cupboards, under beds, store room, wardrobes - just so long as it’s out-of-sight and can be forgotten rather than sorted-out… 
For every ~5000 torn envelopes and old bank statements will be something like a driving licence, passport, birth certificate…
Or her favourite trick: something vital of mine - because even sorting out whose shit it is, is WAY too much effort.
Just thinking about it has superheated steam screaming out of my bellend at frequencies only bats can hear . . . .
Oh yeh, came in recently to find her walking back to the garage with a lump hammer in her hand. Went in to the dining room to find a clock we had bought “recently” had been hung…
…with a 4" nail wellied straight into the brickwork just next to the radiator pipe.
We’ll arrange that we will be clearing out a room, the workshop, the garage or whatever. I won’t want to do it but get stuck in. Roughly an hour after we gave started, there will be shit everywhere and I will realize she has disappeared. I’ll find her in the kitchen, cleaning the shit out of some random, inconsequential piece of crap that she has found in a box that we haven’t looked at in 10 years. 
Are you me? 
…except Sam will be playing the same motherfucking computer game she has played OBSESSIVELY since 2014…
But I’m getting ahead of myself in my daily rant allocation . . . . . . .
Keeps asking where her used underwear is even though she knows I’ll never answer.
Vending machine in a Japanese railway station, presumably?
My special box
Penny’s Panty Humidor 
