I know, the internet enables you to get a message out quickly, to a wide audience, and then you copy it and post it on your blogs or send it out as e-mails your exclusive mailing list of 247 names.
But this is one I haven't seen before. My wife got this from her sister a few days ago (she's my sister-in-law; or did you figure that out already?), and it's one of the more insidious anti-man things I've seen for a while.
I'm mad. Grrrr. See how mad I am?
Anyway, read it for yourself, and you'll why I'm upset:
SNIP
For all those men who say, Why buy a cow when you can get milk for free?, here's an update for you: Nowadays, 80% of women are against marriage.
Why?
Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage.
What are men like?
Men are like laxatives ... because they irritate the crap out of you.
Men are like bananas ... because the older they get, the less firm they are.
Men are like the weather ... because nothing can be done to change them.
Men are like blenders ... because you need one, but you're not quite sure why.
Men are like chocolate bars ... because they are sweet, smooth and they usually head right for your hips.
Men are like commercials ... because you can't believe a word they say.
Men are like department stores ... because their clothes are always 1/2 off.
Men are like government bonds ... because they take soooooooo long to mature.
Men are like mascara ... because they usually run at the first sign of emotion.
Men are like popcorn ... because they satisfy you, but only for a little while.
Men are like snowstorms ... because you never know when they're coming, how many inches you'll get or how long it will last.
Men are like Lava Lamps ... because they are fun to look at, but not very bright.
Men are like parking spots ... because all the good ones are taken, and the rest are handicapped.
UNSNIP
****
It's been a very busy week in a very busy time of the year. I was out at events three of the last four nights, and I've got football tonight. The weather forecast says showers and temperatures in the 40s. Nothing out of the unusual. Not much time for relaxation or self-relfection.
I suppose I could tell you what happened Wednesday. I took the afternoon off, and my wife and I drove down to visit my mom. We delivered a bunch of things she wanted. Tylenols (contraband--she's not supposed to have them herself, but the nursing home staff takes so long to get the pills to her when she needs them; so don't tell anybody), Sudafeds (same thing), chocolate raisins, Skittles and -- finally -- the anise squares she has been craving.
After a while, a newspaper arrived, and my wife was reading it while my mom and I talked. But I was running out of things to say. I looked over and noticed that my wife's blouse was lifted enough so that there was a half-inch space above her jeans.
So I did what I felt I had do. I reached over with my forefinger and made a quick tickling raid. Oh, she jumped. My mom laughed. My wife gave me a look, then resumed reading. I did it again. We (my mom and I) both laughed. "Is this how he treats you?" she asked my wife.
She had to stop reading then to keep an eye on me and dropped a hand to protect her tummy. But by then my ever-observant eyes noticed a gap in her blouse, between buttons, right between her breasts. All of a sudden, the finger struck again. But this time, she had a hand free and slapped the back of my hand. My poor defenseless hand.
It jerked back as if burned. "Wow!" my mom said. "You poor little boy!" And I looked at her and I looked at my wife and then I looked at my hand and started sobbing, Stan Laurel-style, with little throat sounds to make it sound very convincing.
But it wasn't very convincing after I broke out laughing.
I'll leave it at that and hope all of you are doing well. Even those of you who make jokes about us poor, defenseless men.
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