Category Archives: Hammerblows by husband

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#11)

I am going to start a blog, like a support group, and name it ‘My Wife’s a Blogger‘.


Mr. Pink is feeling neglected.

I should feel sorry, but then he also (always) says,


Aren’t you going to put what I just said on
Mr. Pink’s Hammersmith Blows‘?


 No! I am not! And it is Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The…
Oh forget it!

Image source:



For new followers/readers who feel lost as to who this Mr. Pink is then please refer to the first post in the series here or go backwards in time reading through the category, Hammerblows by Husband.

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#10)

January 01, 2015 had just started.

Sam [suddenly excited]: Honey, it’s been 7 years! We have seen 7 New Years together! What do you think about that?

Mr. Pink [still staring intently at the television]: 7 years? It’s not even a millisecond in Universe’s time. It’s one-thirteen of the expected lifespan of a Swiss baby born today. But for a cat it’s a lot!


True. It’s too bad we are PRIMATES!


When the year starts off like this you better kiss romance away.


For more of Mr. Pink's monkey tricks please click here and to learn about how this series started please click here.

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#9)

Air travel doesn’t scare me. I am rather used to it. But I always feel a little trepidation while take off and landing. After that I am as comfortable as a cat in a cradle. Mr. Pink is totally fearless. All he worries about when taking a flight is leg-room. Ah! The worries of tall people – I will never realise. So when we took off from Spain to come back home I finally dared to let out my breath when I felt the plane had stopped climbing.

The captain turned down the lights.

This is what I heard whispered into my ears,

I think we are running out of battery.
Get your charger out!

*evil giggle*




For more of my husband's evil ways please click here.

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#8)

I am addicted to the money sinkholes that are Toiletries. I love buying creams, shampoos, oils, masks and such. Do I need them? I swear to you I do. Mr. Pink, on the other hand, doesn’t think so. He thinks I buy these myriad products because I am a victim of ‘marketing’ and have read one-too-many girlie magazines that have diminished my self-esteem. He rants because he cares. *cough* He’s right *cough*

He would also appreciate some extra space in the bathroom for his third unfinished tube of hair gel but I am sorry Mr. Pink: mama just needs that new Anti-Breakage Total Repair Extra DNA Hair Serum with Super EGF Activators. The Horror! The Biologist in me is crying right now. Just sobbing.

He has gotten used to me hogging up space, but it didn’t come as a shock when I heard him yell from the bathroom during our stay last week in a rustic home (read: dark and small bath-space).

Except, this is what I heard,

Why are you using Burger oil for your shower?

Huh? WHAT?!

Ya. This orange box on the side of the shower. This image looks like a burger. Or is it a kebab? What is this? It’s getting me hungry.


My interest was piqued. I had no idea what could make him shout this mid-shower. I entered the bathroom and asked to see this burger-based beauty bath product that I apparently use.

This is what I was handed:

Wild Argan Oil Body Scrub by Body Shop: The Argan seed within its nutshell, slathered in oil dripping.
Wild Argan Oil Body Scrub by Body Shop: The Argan seed within its nutshell, slathered in oil.



I no longer feel as glamorous as I used to.

Body Shop = Burgers? Now that’s a NEW perspective! Thank you husband. I may just prefer it if you went back to generic ranting and stopped analysing my stuff!

For more from the series: please click here for the first post and then follow the posts in the 'Related' content.

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#7)

Mr. Pink and I make sure we hug often but not so often that people think we are conjoined.

One Champions League evening Mr. Pink was less attentive than usual. I corner him in the kitchen and asked him for a ‘proper‘ hug. He gives me a nice warm hug. It’s so peaceful and I am so happy. Just two seconds later, in the sweetest voice, I hear

Can we do this in front of the game?



Dedicated to everyone who’s enjoying Christmas Day and Boxing Day sports; or suffering because of it.

For more from the series, click here. For a background, read the first post here.

A wife moaning about her husband's love for watching sports? I smell a Cliché

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#6)

On a regular Wednesday evening,

Mr. Pink is happily lounging on the couch, with the TV turned on to some sports channel, stretched out comfortably, and asking for food to be served to him in the living room. Sam refuses to indulge him.

Mr. Pink: Hey! You be a good wife now – serve me and give me a kiss!

Sam [rolling her eyes]: You must have been a lion in your past life.

Mr. Pink: No. I must have worked very hard in my past life.

Source: Melissa McEwan (
Source: Melissa McEwan (

It’s all every cute but Sam is unimpressed.

For more, read here.

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#5)

I was cleaning and ordering our apartment when I found a paper bag with a gift that was supposed to have been picked up by X, Mr. Pink’s best friend, a zillion years ago. I had reminded him, to remind his buddy about it, a fair few times. Now that I saw it at home, collecting dust, the voice in my head screamed ‘KILL!’. Instead, I questioned him as any evolved being who wants to avoid bloodshed would – with undisguised irritation.

Mr. Pink: I asked X. He said he would take it.

Sam: Are you making things up just because I am angry?

Mr. Pink [laughing]: I would never do that. I’ll always tell you the truth to get you angrier.

There is no winning with this one, is there?

For a background and more from the series which showcases my husband's genius ways, click here and here.
P.S. I have used at least one word starting with every alphabet. 'X' has a definition but is it a word? Probably not. I didn't know where, in the narrative, I could insert the word 'Xerox'. *Lightbulb* The postscript perhaps? I say it counts!

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#4)

Mr. Pink likes to make new words – portmanteau in form. He calls them mot-valise (suitcase word). He appreciates efficiency and comedy and what better way to achieve both than to combine two words of different meanings to serve one purpose and that also sound funny.

Here’s one of my favourites that is now a part of the Rappaz household argot, in its various forms,

A bad photograph is to be called a Photocrap™ and its taker a Photocrapper™. If you are in the process of taking Photocrap™ on purpose then you can say you are Photocrapping. This can also be used as a way to tease another person who you know takes bad photos or uses Instagram endlessly and needlessly – ‘Dude*, Stop photocrapping and let’s go.’If you find that you have taken a Photocrap™ by accident then you can say you have photocrapped and upon review of a photo-session if you find nothing but Photocraps™ then you exclaim thus, ‘I have photocrapped all over the place!‘.

*Not gender specific

Go ahead and use the word. Just think of the Rappaz’s fondly when you do.

For more from Mr. Pink, read the series here.

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#3)

We were on the couch the other night. Mr. Pink was holding me and watching (not American) football on the telly.
It tends to happen whenever I am tired or sleepy.

S (feeling warm and wonderful): Is this your dream? To watch football while cuddling me?

P (eyes on telly): And to have a sandwich.

S (exasperated): Why do guys like sandwiches so much?

P (eyes on telly): Because it rhymes with football and beer.

Does it? Does it really?

Click to read background and more

Hammerblows by Mr. Pink, The Husband (#2)

This is the second post in the series that got more support than expected! Thanks all.


Mr. Pink has a sports injury. He has to undergo physiotherapy and has sessions twice a week. After one of his sessions,

At home

Mr. Pink [sheepish grin]: You are not going to like this.

Sam [stops watching TV and turns]: What? (thought bubble reads “…did you do now?”)

Mr. Pink [smiling sweetly]: The physiotherapist was stretching the leg and she had it raised up against her [gesturing as though hugging and leaning against a skinny tree trunk]. She asked me to bend my foot. I didn’t get how to do it. She explained what she meant. And I said, ‘Oh! You mean you want me to scratch behind your ear with my foot!’ [a proud wink]

Sam [amused]: Hm. So you were flirting with the old physiotherapist?

Mr. Pink [knotted brows]: No. You are wrong.

Sam smiles

Mr. Pink: She was not old.

Sam stops smiling.

That is not the part of the sentence you should be correcting hon.


Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did not. Let me know.

As a side note, I will not be posting for the next few days but will hopefully still be able to read your lovely posts. Have a happy weekend all you beautiful people.