Man Garage

A Love Relationship Gone Wrong

When we first moved into our home, the garage was where we kept the car overnight. But as the years went by, my husband shoved more and more things inside to the point the car doesn’t fit anymore. This is when the arguments began.

Husband (to the Garage): What happened to you? You used to look so pulled together? 

Garage: I knew it! Once I was enough for you, but now you want one of those freakishly large, four-car garages! They don’t even look real!

Husband: Why do bikes take up so much room? They’re only six inches wide.


Garage:
I can handle six inches, but not when you stuff me with a 250 gallon emergency water tank!

The Garage: Big water tank, small….!


Husband:
It just seems like your storage used to be so firm.

Garage: That was before you saddled me with an outdoor office. You cut my functionality by half and now my overloaded shelves are saggy!

Husband: With that attitude you’re just begging me to rent a storage space.

Garage: Oh, go ahead, big man! Rent a storage space. Rent two! But don’t be surprised when I let the gardener put his tools in me overnight. His rakes are bigger than yours.

Husband: Then I’m gonna bring home a Rubbermaid shed. I have to get satisfaction somewhere.

Garage: Any shed you buy’ll be a little bitch compared to me! No shed can handle your needs and you know it! Eventually you’ll come crawling back and I’ll refuse to respond to the automatic garage door opener. No matter how hard you click it. You can grunt and groan trying to heave open my retractable door, you can even lubricate it with WD-40, you will never get back in! And me and the gardener, Enrique, will crack open that 250 gallon potable end-of-times water tank and drink to your cuckoldry.

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