FFS. Really?

I find the terms leave pass, “requesting permission from the CFO / SWMBO” pretty stupid, but look, someone’s put together a business around it! For only $25, plus gift card fees (don’t get me started on gift cards), you can have someone else ask your partner for permission for you to go do/buy stuff.

Calculator Leave Pass

You receive a beautiful personalised card requesting a Leave Pass from your partner. It is designed to psychologically put you at a distinct advantage when asking the very tricky question. It comes in an envelope specifically designed to arouse the recipient.




no way man, don’t you know how many points you get for teaching your lady how to fix punctures?!?! like, 5!!

Or you could, you know, be in a trusting, mutually beneficial relationship. Maybe I’m just old-fashioned.

Opposite of old-fashioned perhaps.


I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks all that leave pass stuff is crap. A mate of mine looks after his kid for one day then thinks he has the right to go out with his mates and get shitfaced.

(Another one is dads who say they’re ‘babysitting’ - you’re their fucking father! But that’s another thread…)

Sorry, should’ve used sarc-marks.

My husband wants a six week leave pass to go overseas…should I let him go? | News.com.au Ask Bossy Blog

lol he’s a goner

is that REALLY worth writing in and asking strangers about…

katie is heading off to europe later this year for 5 weeks, then off to canada next year for another month or so…without me.

maybe i can write into New Weekly and see if they tell me i’m justifiably righteous in pouting and sooking

Why? You’ve got FoA for that.

I went overseas for 6 weeks by myself when my wife was pregnant with our twins.

You uncaring bastard!


After I have cooked dinner, washed the dishes, put a load of washing on, hung out the washing, vacuum and mop the floors, washed her car, cleaned the garage, weeded the garden, attended to the veggie garden etc.

or else it gets the hose again.

I think I’ve got this on a barbecue apron. It hangs up next to the one with the fake plastic boobs, and the one that says “kiss the cook”.

Apparently my dad was too busy racing a triathlon to see me born. Mum dumped his arse, but the shame of having a triathlete father will never leave me.

Lance was racing tri’s in the 80s.