As it is written somewhere, men are from a planet rich in iron oxide and women are from a planet that is full of sulfuric acid and clouds. One is a candy bar and a god of war, and the other is a razor and a goddess of love. Surely there is nothing significant in all of those connections. And stop calling me Surely.
*grunt*
*blah blah blah talky talky talky yakety yakety yak*
Horrorthon, while already a pillar of the online community for its unyielding barrage of detailed descriptions of zombies and gory violence, is expanding its reach into couples counseling. Yes, ‘tis true, this week’s haiku topic is the opposite sex, and the seeming “battle” between the sexes that has raged since the very dawn of humanity…
“Yeah, well, the crocodile over there told me to eat a banana off that other tree so that I could fly and have laser-beam vision, but did I run right over and do it? No, I did NOT."
Significant others are fair game, and may end up being the only game.
Yes, deer.
Countless millions of stand-up comics since remote prehistory have blazed trails through this forest, and there is no shame in treading those well-worn paths. There is a great deal of shame, however, in not completely dishing on what current and former husbands, wives, girlfriends & boyfriends have done to annoy you, amuse you, or aggravate you.
Why do I have a strange feeling that we’ll be hearing a lot about Tony this week?
Johnny (I No Longer Have Time To Wear) Sweatpants surely has his own set of problems and observations based on his reports from recent months, so I look forward to his unique perspective.
Live photo feed from Johnny’s apartment
The toilet seat has been left up for countless eons; the toilet paper roll has gone on the wrong way for millennia. The sexes have managed to keep the human race going while at the same time totally annoying each other. It’s a miracle we’ve survived this long. Around the first campfire, caveman was belching and cavewoman was rolling her eyes. Then cavewoman went out and tried to parallel-park the family mammoth. And failed.
So, from clichés to negligees, let’s bring this battle a little closer to conclusion. (“Negligees” was the only quasi-appropriate rhyming word I could come up with. Shut up.)
On a completely random, separate note, this week I will finally be teaching MrsX how to drive a stick so she can share the driving on road trips.
