Poor memory

I'm here to talk about a subject that for years was a real problem for me, but today, thanks to the latest technology, I have completely overcome.

I mean ... I have it written in the hand ..., bad memory.

I have it written here because it is the only way for me to remember. Before I had it written in a notebook...

I do not know what I did with it.

Now I write down everything on my body.

People think I have a tattoo on my arm, but once I wrote a shopping list there with a Rotring pen and it stayed there.

I am the only guy who has written on the biceps "chicken breast",

They wanted to charge me three thousand Euros to take it off, so I painted a heart around it and now I say that it was a girlfriend I had.

The blame for my poor memory lies on my mother who forced me to remember a lot of things and the result is that nothing more fits into my brain.

My mother would tell me:

- 'Son, go down and fetch the bread and, as you do, buy olives, tuna, milk and lettuce.

And, when leaving home house, you kept repeating:

-        "Bread, olives, tuna, milk and lettuce,

-        Bread, olives, tuna, milk and lettuce '...

And then you passed by a neighbour, and she said:

- "Hello, dear, how's your mother?

And you were repeating:

- "Bread, dear ... tuna ... Well, thank you.

- Bread .. olives

Shit.

But your mother never forgot. On seeing you arrive, she said

-        The lettuce is missing.

I think mothers have at least 5 Gigabytes of memory

My teachers wanted me to remember long lists of names like the tributaries of the Tagus: Jarama, Guadarrama, Guadiela.

Hallo dear, how is your mother? bread, lettuce, Jarama, Guadarrama, Guadiela

So, I am now a disaster for names.

I only learned my wife’s name after two years of marriage.

In the meantime, I kept on calling her "honey."

If I reserved at a restaurant, they would say:

- "Yes, I have a table for Pablo Gómez-Mora and honey."

If I was with her, and I met an old friend from college, it was hard to make the introductions:

-        "Honey, college roommate,

-        college roommate, honey."

Eventually she realized, of course. And she got angry:

-        "You do not know my name."

I said:

-        sure I know"

-        And what is it? '.

-        Eh ...".

Then I looked at my hand and climbed up the biceps to finally exclaim:

-        Chicken breast!"

And the dates, it’s better not to talk about, of course.

In general, men have a problem with dates.

If you ask a man when it is his wedding anniversary he would say:

- "These things are taken care of by my wife."

It's not our fault, we're not genetically prepared.

One day my wife told me:

-        "Do you know what day is tomorrow?".

And I said:

-        "What day is it today?”

-        "Tuesday."

-        "Well then tomorrow is Wednesday."

And she said,

-        "Yes, but what Wednesday?".

-        "Hey ..., is it Ash Wednesday?».

-        "It's my birthday."

-        "Honey, congratulations!

-        And how many..?

How angry she got! But she changes her age every year, so it is impossible to remember.

By the time I learned the birth date, she was 33, and the she goes, and turns 34.

I am now taking ginseng, which they say is good for ... memory.

It was recommended by my dermatologist, because if I keep writing things in my body, I will destroy my skin…

The problem is that I never remember if I took it.

The other day I had an overdose. I was quietly at home and, suddenly, I said to my wife:

-        Hey, chicken breast, now I remember!

- What?, she said

I replied:

-        Bread, olives, tuna, milk ... and lettuce! ».

And what is that?

The tributaries of the Tagus!