Doilies. It doesn’t get more British than that—even more so than any Sunday roast dinner or some such. The doily is where it’s at!
But you can have too much of a good thing. And today’s human male is distraught that his broad has a tragic addiction that is destroying their lives.
What To Do When There Are Too Many Doilies
I'll get straight to the point. My crazy wife is a nutjob! She's ruining our lives! Since Brexit in 2016 we've taken on a more patriotic life stance, selling our souls to the Conservative government and selling our soles to the local shoe shop (just trying to make a joke there to lighten the tone before the heavy stuff). Now onto the heavy stuff. Part of our new patriotic identity is to own lots of British stuff. I went out and bought a Ford. Turned out that's American so I traded it for a Jaguar. The wife got a haircut like Cher, but it turns out she's American an all so then she did her hair like Katy Perry. But she's American as well and so the wife gave up and shaved her hair off like a true proper British skinhead football hooligan. I've never been so proud in all my life to associate with a bird! That was the peak. Then it all went downhill when the wife started getting doilies in. You know, those [expletive deleted] ornamental... mats or whatever they are! She's gone mental! First it was a pack of three. I didn't have any real concerns at that point, I just figured, "Huh... the wife's bought some doilies. Good! That's dead British!" Then the next day it was a pack of six. I thought, "Huh, more doilies! Turning into a bit of a doily factory here isn't it!" And I had a proper chortle about my witty joke. The day after and it was another pack of six and I was all, "What's with all the bloody doilies!?" Then the next day she came in with a pack of 12 doilies. By then it was a total of 27 doilies! Alarm bells were starting to go off here because I thought, "No one, realistically, based on logical thought, needs that many doilies at any given time." Being clever like that, deducing things. Well the next day the wife did the weekly big shop and Jesus H Christ almighty did she put the fear of Marxism into me! She came home with a £5.99 white pack of 250 round doilies... "Woman!" I shouted at her, "I've chalked that up as over £20 on doilies this month, what are you playing at!?" She snapped back at me, "Well you spend £150 a month on beer!" And well that was when I confronted her, I said to her, "Listen, Maureen, you need to cut this out now or I'm going to the cops." And that's when I knew she'd lost her marbles, because she said back to me, "Call the cops? Over some doilies? Simon, you really are a silly old fool! What are they going to do, arrest me for wanting stain-free table tops?" And she laughed at that and I went red in the face and shouted, "WHAT'S WITH ALL THE GODDAMN DOILIES, YOU INSANE BITCH!?" And she looked a bit shocked. Anyway, long story short it's three weeks later and she's not said a word to me. And the doilies she's bought haven't been used. 21 doilies at over £20 just sitting in the cupboard doing nothing. I'd take them back for a refund but I don't want to be seen in public with that many doilies. I mentioned this all to me best mate, Kev, and he said his missus once bought 12 hand crochet craft doilies with pastel rainbow colours at the cost of £13. I was taking a gulp of beer when he landed that bombshell and I spat a gobfull out all over the floor in shock. I asked him what he did about that and Kev said he thought about divorcing her, then maybe putting her in an insane asylum, and he even admitted he'd thought about smacking her around the head with a cricket bat. In the end he said he "saw sense" and just let her put the doilies around the home. He says he's not quite been the same ever since. My God... what the hell do I do to avoid this nightmare? Ta mate, Simon
Hi Simon. Based on your message, we can tell you’re a highly intelligent and analytical individual capable of determining the quantity of doilies relating to a nefarious outcome.
We don’t think you need to turn to us for advice.
As such, we suggest you figure this one out for yourself. Our one and only suggestion is you invent an anti-doily gun to shoot those bastards down with.
A vacuum cleaner may also suffice. Suck those things up, cordon off your property with barbed wire, and ensure a 24/7 anti-doily zone.
You may need to bring the British army in to maintain high standards. They’ll be able to blast down any doily within a 50 mile radius. All the best!