Sunday, March 12, 2006

We Keep His Balls In A Glass Jar in the Pantry

pity Poor Jim. he is my best friend of a bajillion years. we practically grew up together. Poor Jim is married and has 3 three beautiful daughters. he is drowning in a sea of estrogen.

he USED to be manly. he hung out with his buds, drank beer, pumped iron and watched sports. slowly, but noticeably, over the years, we have castrated him. now, he knows the names of all the Powerpuff Girls and can probably do nicer french braids than i can.

we were talking on the phone friday night, and he was telling me that a few days ago his wife was being a raging, hormonal, monster. he said, "i don't understand it. when we got married, she said she never got PMS."

i said, "and you BELIEVED her?" (insert me laughing hysterically for 10 minutes) dude, we ALL say that. otherwise we would never get another date. just operate under the assumption that all women are psycho hose beasts at least two days a month and you will be fine. damn, just wait until your daughters start in with PMS."

"one of them already is. there are days where she is nagging and bitchy."

"you are just five years away from going on an Iron Man retreat, aren't you? i can just see you, naked in the woods, playing bongos around a campfire, crying because the women in your life don't understand you."


"yup."