It’s not a complete cakewalk. The OP has to tell his better half that her mate is a bad’un and that she has to deal with her. Maybe I’m a bit of a pessimist, but I’ve just finished a discussion with my ball and chain regarding which type of bloody pasta to cook tonight - and it’s still up in the air. I’m happy with any type, by the way, same thing in different shapes IMO.
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You just don’t understand Italian culture…or women. 
Agree on both counts. And my missus isn’t Italian.
Oh she’s annoyed to. And it’s my house so. I guess I felt kinda bad just kicking her out like that. But she really deserves it at this point.
And I wanted to make sure when she picks her stuff up I can the legal ability to force her to leave.
I dated an Italian once. It was a meh date. I wasn’t that interested, so I didn’t ask her out again but she kept on calling for a week or two. About a year later I ran into her on the street, and she went ballistic on me like she wanted to claw my eyes out. I couldn’t understand it, as we hadn’t even kissed on the singular, practically forgotten (by me) date we had a year before. I decided then and there as I was having some angry woman spit in my direction that Italians were a bit too fiery tempered for me.
There has to be some balance here. If you’re having some kind of fried slop in a wok, she picks. If it’s pasta, it can’t be left to her.
I jest of course. But I have to put my foot down sometimes. For example, she wants to put carrots in everything. “Carrots and basil don’t go together dear” “why not”
Let her catch you doing something the moderator of this forum considers inappropriate to mention.
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Yes. Pull a Louie CK.
What about Carrot and Basil Surprise?
Soil the bed with cat urine.
Do something all the time that you know annoys her like if she hates happy people, always be very happy.
Find a really annoying irritating friend and have him come over and hang out all the time.
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Best suggestion so far.
Andrew, you are very lucky. I am not only very annoying and drunk one third of the time, my sexist humour is despised by 85% of all ladies, and my behind leaves little space for anyone else on your couch. Let me stay at your apartment for a week and your Italian friend won’t be back.
You’ll get your money back if it doesn’t work. (But not the beers and food that I’ll help myself to from your fridge.)
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You can hang out with me.
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There’s one more than one way to skin a chicken or pluck a fish or get rid of a roommate.
I won’t be showing that post to the wife.
Without a doubt
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Okay Andrew, time to play matchmaker! 
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