The Wife & I Discuss the Off Road Commode

Yesterday I happened upon this absolutely stellar, award-winning, high-class commercial in the Interweb Machine Thingy.

Doing what my wife hates the most, I immediately say, “honey, seriously, come watch this...”

As a side note, that is by far the worst phrase you could ever utter to my wife. She HATES when I ask her to watch videos. But then, nine times out of ten, she laughs her ass off. I know at the end of the day she’s writing in her diary: “…and then my sexy-ass husband showed me the most hilarious video and I almost peed myself watching it. God I love that man!”

Actually, it went a little bit more like this:

Wife: I don’t understand. You shit right behind your truck?

Me: Ummm…well yeah, I guess so.

Wife: That’s just stupid. Then it’s right next to your truck. And worse, it’s at the tailgate. What if you bag a deer? Then you’ll be stepping in your own shit while trying to put the deer carcass in your truck bed.

Me: Did you just say “tailgate,” “deer carcass” and “truck bed” to me? I want you so bad right now it’s ridiculous.

Wife: You’re a douche. Seriously, that is the dumbest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

Me: Maybe he dug a ditch, shat in it, covered it back up, and went back to ruthlessly killing innocent deer which he justifies by saying they’re overpopulated, which they really aren’t we’re just encroaching on their damn habitat.

Wife: Here we go again. Blah blah blah…nature…blah blah….save the animals…blah blah… Can you at least go pour me a bit more wine while you’re talking?

Me: Look, I was just trying to show you a funny-ass commercial that’s trying to pass off a trailer hitch toilet seat as a luxury item to rednecks that enjoy killing shit.

Wife: It’s hilarious. Can I leave now?

Me: I’m going to buy one for you for your birthday and make love to you on it.

Wife: OK, first, that’s just dumb. Second, you don’t have a trailer hitch. And third, if you did, you’d have to ask me how to hook the toilet seat up to it.

Me: That’s why I’m buying it for you and not me!!

Wife: That actually might be kinda sexy.

Me: Oh my God – are you serious? Cause I’ll order it right now. Actually, I’ll get on Craigslist and see if anyone close-by is selling them so I can pick it up now. Oh, and I need to buy a trailer hitch and find someone to weld it on…

I paused and realized while I was off on this wild goose chase, my wife had relocated her sexy-ass to the couch where she was drinking her wine and watching her show in peace.

It didn’t matter though, I’m still buying it…

The Art of Manscaping

So my son gave me my first bitch-slap on Sunday. Father’s Day of all days!

Let me set the scene for you kids. I’m on a lawn chair, beer in hand, slight buzz, warm day, surrounded by a half-dozen or so friends at the pool they belong-to, grilling and having a damn good night.

Just as we’re all getting along famously, the boy rolls onto the scene. Sliding into the middle of the group like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, he takes over.

“So, hey. I’ve got something for ya!”

All the adults stop, turn and look at my little red-headed, gap-toothed freak son.

“Before we came to the pool, my dad had my mom shave his back and it was disgusting!!!”

Five years ago I would have immediately texted “my guy” and had the boy “taken care of” within five minutes.

All I could do was laugh. The little bastard had busted my balls in full display and he was right. My wife had totally manscaped my back a mere hour ago.

But three things happened with that unplanned announcement.

1)  I learned that my son has now entered into the phase to where he thinks he can bust my balls and not get payback.

2)  I am a seasoned “Payback” professional and he will cry!

3)  Manscaping is running rampant and women hate to be in charge of doing it!

The immediate response from the ladies in this awesome gathering of drinking folk was unanimous – “oh I feel your pain my dear! I hate having to shave my husband’s back!”

OK, so shaving your husband’s back isn’t quit the dream you pictured when that engagement ring was slipped onto the finger. I can’t apologize for it.

If I could pull a few favors with the man upstairs in the hopes hair would graciously NOT grow in areas we can’t reach, then I’d do it! But we guys are just hairy bastards.

So, it’s one of two things:

1)  Shave our back

2)  Let it grow and embrace the way the wind flows across our back like a Midwestern plain

But then there’s a secondary level to this manscaping dilemma.

Our wives already “own” us. So, why would they care if we’re walking around like Big Foot on payday? It doesn’t hurt them one damn bit.

Look, I’m definitely not a arm, chest, leg shaving dude. Not by any stretch. The day I start getting paid thousands of dollars to complete triathlons, then I’ll shave it down body-wide. Until then, I’m shaving in all the right areas.

I just want to be presentable. I don’t want to fight windstorms from lifting me up and carrying me away by my back-hair wings. I don’t want my cat to confuse me as a “fuck buddy” when I’m laying on my stomach.

So I beg you ladies…on behalf Guys Who Grow Back Hair, Some A Lot, Some A Little, Organization…know we love you, bite the bullet, and please – give us a shave!