What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails
And mud and dead-mashed lizards....
So, every month, the Air Force hangs up another propaganda banner over "main street." Yep, your tax dollars buy these big ol' banners that say stuff like, "Native American Heritage Month," "Black History Month," "Hispanic Heritage Month," "Women's History Month," "Eskimo Month," "Save a Penguin Month".... Ok, I'm kidding about the last two, but I have yet to see a banner that reads, "Jack's Month." Maybe that's too ambitious -- too specific. Perhaps, I should more realistically anticipate "Blonde, Blue-Eyed, Handsome, Babe-Magnet Heritage Month." Or, just "White Dudes' Heritage Month." Ok, heck, I'll just go with "Dudes' Month."
Well, today, I declared it "Guy Day," and I took full advantage of my declaration. I wore my lumberjack overalls and hiking boots. I tried not to have mom comb my hair. I did not eat anything healthy or gay -- like peas, carrots, or oatmeal. This afternoon, on the way to the post office, I took full advantage of a huge mud pit (puddles are for girls). Mom wasn't as thrilled about the mud that smeared the entire right leg of my pants and half of the back of my sweatshirt. After the post office, we went to the park, and my friend Miranda (a girl -- sugar and spice and everything nice -- euugh, vomit) wanted to play too. She's in second grade. I don't know what it is with older chicks. But, they dig younger, blonde-haired, dudes like me. I get smothered in kisses. It's fairly reeeeediculous. Anyway, the mud didn't completely put her off, but at one point, she did turn to Mom and ask, "What's that on the back of his pants, on his bum?"
Mom replied, "Oh, it's probably mud. He fell in a puddle." (definitely not a guy response --wasn't a puddle -- I went off-roading.)
Miranda looked at my overalls again, "No, I think it's a lizard."
I got a little excited. Really? A lizard? Nice!!!!!!! Sure enough, I had a mashed, partially headless lizard on the back of my lumberjack mud-covered overalls. Eat that manly dudes! Impressin' the ladies, as always. Miranda has brothers. So, she just took the lizard off my overalls and said, "I'll just put this in the garbage." Then, she gave me a smooch on the head. Uncle W, you need to get a mashed, partially headless lizard. Maybe you could attract some quality women that way. It got me a smooch on the head.
To cap off my "Guy Day," I drank a ton of bathwater and let out the biggest belch ever. It probably registered on the Richter in California. My dear family members, did you feel that one over there? (That was crude, I know. But it's "Guy Day.")
And puppy-dogs' tails
And mud and dead-mashed lizards....
So, every month, the Air Force hangs up another propaganda banner over "main street." Yep, your tax dollars buy these big ol' banners that say stuff like, "Native American Heritage Month," "Black History Month," "Hispanic Heritage Month," "Women's History Month," "Eskimo Month," "Save a Penguin Month".... Ok, I'm kidding about the last two, but I have yet to see a banner that reads, "Jack's Month." Maybe that's too ambitious -- too specific. Perhaps, I should more realistically anticipate "Blonde, Blue-Eyed, Handsome, Babe-Magnet Heritage Month." Or, just "White Dudes' Heritage Month." Ok, heck, I'll just go with "Dudes' Month."
Well, today, I declared it "Guy Day," and I took full advantage of my declaration. I wore my lumberjack overalls and hiking boots. I tried not to have mom comb my hair. I did not eat anything healthy or gay -- like peas, carrots, or oatmeal. This afternoon, on the way to the post office, I took full advantage of a huge mud pit (puddles are for girls). Mom wasn't as thrilled about the mud that smeared the entire right leg of my pants and half of the back of my sweatshirt. After the post office, we went to the park, and my friend Miranda (a girl -- sugar and spice and everything nice -- euugh, vomit) wanted to play too. She's in second grade. I don't know what it is with older chicks. But, they dig younger, blonde-haired, dudes like me. I get smothered in kisses. It's fairly reeeeediculous. Anyway, the mud didn't completely put her off, but at one point, she did turn to Mom and ask, "What's that on the back of his pants, on his bum?"
Mom replied, "Oh, it's probably mud. He fell in a puddle." (definitely not a guy response --wasn't a puddle -- I went off-roading.)
Miranda looked at my overalls again, "No, I think it's a lizard."
I got a little excited. Really? A lizard? Nice!!!!!!! Sure enough, I had a mashed, partially headless lizard on the back of my lumberjack mud-covered overalls. Eat that manly dudes! Impressin' the ladies, as always. Miranda has brothers. So, she just took the lizard off my overalls and said, "I'll just put this in the garbage." Then, she gave me a smooch on the head. Uncle W, you need to get a mashed, partially headless lizard. Maybe you could attract some quality women that way. It got me a smooch on the head.
To cap off my "Guy Day," I drank a ton of bathwater and let out the biggest belch ever. It probably registered on the Richter in California. My dear family members, did you feel that one over there? (That was crude, I know. But it's "Guy Day.")
Jack, my man!
ReplyDelete