As a housewife, I feel that if the kids are still alive when my husband gets home from work, then hey, I've done my job.
My husband says, 'Roseanne, don't you think we ought to talk about our sexual problems?' Like I'm gonna turn off Wheel of Fortune for that.
Husbands are never happy. My husband asked me for more space, so I locked him out of the house.
My husband and I didn't sign a pre-nuptial agreement. We signed a mutual suicide pact.
My husband says, 'God, Roseanne, I can't remember the last time we had sex.' Well, I can, and that is why we ain't doing it.
I had left home (like all Jewish girls) in order to eat pork and take birth control pills. When I first shared an intimate evening with my husband, I was swept away by the passion (so dormant inside myself) of a long and tortured existence. The physical cravings I had tried so hard to deny, finally and ultimately sated ... But enough about the pork.
My best friend Linda is leaving her husband just because he is unfaithful to her. That is no reason to leave the person. I feel like after that, you should stay with them and make sure that the rest of their life is sheer hell.
My husband is almost as heavy as I am. We were married in adjoining churches.
This bugs me the worst. That's when the husband thinks that the wife knows where everything is, huh? Like they think the uterus is a tracking device. He comes in: "Hey, Roseanne! Roseanne! Do we have any Cheetos left?" Like he can't go over and lift up the sofa cushion himself.
Have you heard about the women who stabbed her husband 37 times? I admire her restraint.
I was raised on government cheese. As an adult, in my first marriage, my husband and I worked real hard just to go bankrupt. I happened to write some jokes about it. I did real well for myself.
