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Thursday, 07 July
Grooming
The wife's little brother is getting all MARRIED and stuff this Saturday! Aw! The li'l bastard's all done and got growed up! And by "li'l" I mean "gigantic," because the kid is a big boy and could squeeze me into fettucini if he felt like it. Anyway, he is, fortunately, a great guy, and his ladygal (or, as we said in high school, his "throwdown") is a peach, so this is all a good thing. Unfortunately, I torched my whole savings this month buying comic books, so we're only getting them a couple of soiled dishtowels, so I think we'll sign our gift as "Love, Anonymous." The wife will be reading a sonnet during the ceremony--"Shall I compare thee to a bale of hay?/ Thou art as scratchy and as rectangular." Something like that. (For some reason, I was not asked to read anything.) Ah, the whole thing makes me tear up. And so, for my young brother-in-law, I have decided to compose some invaluable wedding advice, gleaned from my two-year stint as the acknowledged World Champion of Husbands. --Remember that "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus." This is very important. When you're in the mood to dig elaborate canals on the surface of the planet to confuse future Earth scientists, remember that maybe she just might want to sit down, kick back and breathe some methanated/ammoniated atmosphere. Compromise is the key. --Don't be a jerk: Commit your mistresses' phone numbers to memory rather than programming them on speed dial. If you really, really can't keep the damn numbers straight, at least have the decency to use false names in the "Name" field. Examples: "MITSRESS", "BOOBS+++", or "HOT PORKIN' GAL #2." --Let's face it: doing the dishes sucks. She shouldn't have to do them all the time. Every now and then--say, twice a year--give her the night off and say, "Honey, I've got these tonight. You can go clean the toilet instead." You're suddenly a prince! And while she's scouring out that bowl, take the opportunity to demolish all the dirty dishes. "Oh, honey! I dropped all of our plates and bowls onto the concrete outside!" Then buy new dishes. Winky winky! --Wives should be made to feel "special." Enroll her in remedial reading courses as soon as possible. Unless she's a total dumb-bomb, she is going to rake in gold stars. --Sex is always a touchy subject, and so, is best avoided. If the subject comes up, pretend you are having a stroke. When this ruse has run its course of usefulness, and the wife begins to doubt even your most energetic thrashings, I'm afraid that the only solution is to actually have a real stroke. This may sound drastic, but there is an upside: stroke victims are rarely expected to do the dishes or clean the toilet. High five, dude! (Gotcha! You can't raise your arms! Har har!) --Lots of women do not like smokers. If you smoke, you should quit. (I do this several times a day, and it is a thrill for my wife every time.) If you do not smoke, begin smoking immediately. After a few months, quit. She'll be thrilled! Then begin using chewing tobacco, because you're hooked right through the bag, son. --Finally--I cannot stress this enough--your days of checking out women on the street are over. It's really rude to be ogling other women, my friend. It's the hard truth. There's only one thing to do: start staring at men. Comment on their physiques. "Gee, honey, look at that guy. The one in biking shorts. Man! That's some penis! It's kind of shaped like Madagascar!" You'll be surprised at her reaction. "You've changed a lot since you had four strokes in a row," she might say as she pushes you along in your wheelchair. You don't have to say a word. After all, it's a nice day, you're being squired around town by your beautiful wife, and today, what the hell, you're going to buy some fresh chewing tobacco and a nice new set of dishes. You're going to drool a lot, and ruin many shirts, but it's a good life. You can even clear out the speed dial entries. And before you know it, you've grown old together. It's what marriage is all about. (All horseshit aside, feel free to raise a glass on Saturday for my brother-in-law I. and his good lady S. I do wish them nothing but hurrahs and confetti and champagne.) Note: Comments are closed on old entries. Comments Stumbled upon your blog, and I think I feel a new addiction coming on.... Love it! Post a comment |