I live in a home where most things are female. Even our Vizsla, Molly, is a girlie dog. Other than me, the only thing male around here is our pet rabbit, and he's kept in a cage in the garage during the winter.
So every now and then I'll do something male-ish to sort of re-gather my bearings, which might include renting a guy flick ("Appaloosa" did the trick last week), letting go an otherwise forbidden belch(!), or playing music louder than anyone else likes. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddd!! Turn it dowwwwwwwwwnnn!!" But I know that turning it down means sacrificing my hairy male moment, so I wait for, oh, at least ten seconds before doing it.
Christmas was pretty rough because my daughters, looking to buy a Christmas present for my wife, made me visit that den of femininity, the Bath & Body Works store. It's awful. They should post warning signs: "Real Men Keep Out," or "Keep Your Male To Yourself & Stay Away." Anyway, I inquired if they didn't have something more masculine scented, something, you know, manly. Innocently, I asked, "Look, I love to fly fish, so how about 'River Bottom Rot,' which would make me think of all the joyful times spent engaging my hobby? The aroma of dirt and vegetation and rotting stuff would be great for sporting men. It would be our kind of aromatherapy." The sales woman snickered and said, "How about a bottle of our luscious Sea Island Cotton soap?"
I got out of there.
Well, today I came across something that's perfect for me and for the guys who will be filling my house this Super Bowl Sunday. Just watching the advertisement made me feel, well, whole; you know, good about my manliness and all. I think I grunted several times as I watched. I opened the door to the garage and shouted to our rabbit, "Yeah, man! You're awesome! Pee wherever you want, dude! Aint nobody gonna tell you otherwise!" Picking up a rough and heavy hammer, I went back inside and felt good about life.
See if this doesn't do it for you, too. That is, if you're a manly man.
(Click on the video below.)