Blackened fish and a side of keto friendly gumbo

Early this morning I went and murdered some local wildlife for lunch.

I put it on a cheap paper plate and ate over the oven.

Why?

Because you don’t need to waste money on fine china unless you want to. You don’t have to follow rules of what you eat because you live with someone who requires you to compromise.

I didn’t plate it, I didn’t try to make it all nice, I just plopped it out of the pan and started eating it with a nice side of Kentucky bourbon. Because I can. On purpose. No restaurant. No take out. No need to compromise to make "the room" feel happy. I hate that shit. Compromise is just losing and being miserable but pretending to smile.

Why have a kind of stressed out life to make the wife happy? Why have how you live and how you are happy be constrained because someone else won’t let you?

Now I’m sure there’s tons of wives out there that like fish and creole food and all that and I’m sure they can all go murder a fish and fry it up. Great. Go do that.

Does a crappy meal mean anything? No. But I just decided to do it today.

All day long you can read on reddit how many people either have to tolerate a bad relationship, put up with secret lives, have their dreams crushed, or having to ask permission for everything.

Is there any glory in murdering a fish and eating it? No. Using shitty paper plates? No. Eating over the oven makes you manly? No.

But it is doing exactly what I want when I want. Free food down the road available on demand.

No permission needed. No excuses given. No justification. No needing to tell anyone what the hell I’m doing or where I am. NO annoying text or phone call wondering when I’ll be back.

Could a relationship exist where you can do this? Unicorns I’m sure exist. But why? What is the point?

This isn’t a monument to manliness or being a child and doing what I want and not telling mommy when you’ll be home. It’s about being free to do what you want.