EVER wondered how Wayne Rooney manages to be such a considerate and desirable spouse? Here the Derby County manager shares his secrets to a blissful marriage.
Shower your partner with gifts
Women love presents. Get them a quad bike, a Bentley, or convert a spare room into a pub with full-sized snooker tables so you can have the lads round. Sorry, I meant ‘so they can have the girls round’. Girls like snooker marathons and puking up 15 pints of lager too. I’m not a sexist.
Provide for them financially
It’s a husband’s responsibility to make sure his wife has enough cash, especially when you’ve just got in from a two-day bender and they’re doing your f**king head in. Never make a point of being the breadwinner, just say, ‘Have 20 grand and f**k off and buy some dresses, you moaning cow.’
Be aware of their sexual needs
Women are not always ‘up for it’ like blokes are, so don’t hassle them over sex. Instead call your mates and visit some really dirty prozzies. You get a decent blowjob for once and your partner gets their personal space. It’s just about being considerate, really.
Listen to them
If your partner’s going through a stressful time – such as a bitchy, pointless, time-wasting court case with Rebekah Vardy – sit down and listen to them. Practise nodding at regular intervals while ignoring their women’s shit. Eventually not a word will penetrate your skull and you can think about more important things, like Derby County and tits.
Be a good parent
Kids are sort of the man’s responsibility too. For me, it’s not just teaching them to kick a football. There’s headers and professional fouls too. And always tell them a bedtime story. My favourite at the moment is: ‘The hungry caterpillar ate all the food. The end.’ No point in being late for the pub.
Give them a Valentine’s Day surprise
With Valentine’s Day coming up, plan a big surprise for them. It could be a trip to Venice, but in my case it’s more likely to be a lurid tabloid scoop about me having a threesome with some hard-faced prostitutes laughing about how paralytically pissed I was. Still, they’ll remember it more than a bunch of flowers.
