“still rocks Sperry Topsiders”? Excuse me if I thought these were universally accepted, like loving nachos, hating terrorists, and making fun of Canadians.
I’ve been with my FIL like 4 times. Dude walked in once wearing a tucked-in hawaiian print polo shirt and it was like someone rang the stripper dinner bell: “this dude is going to spend an assload of money tonight.” And he did.
I played golf once at (absurdly expensive course in exotic location) and was paired up with 2 old dudes who both owned, between them, like 15 SuperCuts stores, and told stories of flying to Vegas with the founder of SuperCuts on his PJ and partying it up. Point being, you can make a ton of money in cheap haircuts $15 at a time.
Other direction. I know a girl who is probably a solid 8, who always looks like a little bit of a mess; unkept hair, chipped nails, etc. Something about that signals to me that she’s a dragon, based solely on the fact that she’s not too uptight about stuff. Or something. I dunno, leave me to the fantasy.
Now imagine you’re a dude, marrying you, who just found out he gets to help pay for all of that. There’s a special kind of hell when you’re a dude eating PB&J for lunch for a month straight to afford that upcoming vacation and then your wife blows $300 on hair/nails/etc the weekend before so she feels pretty for the trip.
You’re a dude. You’re not supposed to want kids until your wife pulls the goalie without REALLY telling you and casually drops the “I’m pregnant” bomb while you’re half-drunkenly brushing your teeth one Saturday night and you have the biggest scaries case of all time all night and for the next nine months. Then the kid is born, the next 3 months are pure Hell, the three months after that are only terrible, and sometime around 6 months it turns into “this ain’t so bad.”
He sleeps on an air mattress, he basically IS homeless.
“still rocks Sperry Topsiders”? Excuse me if I thought these were universally accepted, like loving nachos, hating terrorists, and making fun of Canadians.
I’ve been with my FIL like 4 times. Dude walked in once wearing a tucked-in hawaiian print polo shirt and it was like someone rang the stripper dinner bell: “this dude is going to spend an assload of money tonight.” And he did.
“…a more substantial grasp on the roadblocks preventing you from reaching happiness or personal success.”
I don’t need to go to Peru, I can log into my online banking and credit card statements from home.
We’re an Ice Mountain house. Evian when on the road. And then cursing the cupholder thing.
Congrats on the scummy sex.
Tip included? Just to see how it feels?
I played golf once at (absurdly expensive course in exotic location) and was paired up with 2 old dudes who both owned, between them, like 15 SuperCuts stores, and told stories of flying to Vegas with the founder of SuperCuts on his PJ and partying it up. Point being, you can make a ton of money in cheap haircuts $15 at a time.
Pretty sure my wife couldn’t do that if we wanted her to, what with corporate IT security and all…
Other direction. I know a girl who is probably a solid 8, who always looks like a little bit of a mess; unkept hair, chipped nails, etc. Something about that signals to me that she’s a dragon, based solely on the fact that she’s not too uptight about stuff. Or something. I dunno, leave me to the fantasy.
I think every job interview I’ve ever been on was made possible by a “stomach bug” conversation with my then-current boss.
Now imagine you’re a dude, marrying you, who just found out he gets to help pay for all of that. There’s a special kind of hell when you’re a dude eating PB&J for lunch for a month straight to afford that upcoming vacation and then your wife blows $300 on hair/nails/etc the weekend before so she feels pretty for the trip.
These: http://www.kingshawaiian.com/recipes/hawaiian-ham–swiss-slider/
They’re amazing.
Congrats. I’ll be back there in a month or two.
You’re a dude. You’re not supposed to want kids until your wife pulls the goalie without REALLY telling you and casually drops the “I’m pregnant” bomb while you’re half-drunkenly brushing your teeth one Saturday night and you have the biggest scaries case of all time all night and for the next nine months. Then the kid is born, the next 3 months are pure Hell, the three months after that are only terrible, and sometime around 6 months it turns into “this ain’t so bad.”
I don’t think that helped.
Jersey Mike’s, the big kahuna chicken cheesesteak. Amazing.
I can’t fap in that.
I’m Mr. Incredible. I’ll be fine as long as Duda isn’t sneaking up behind me to kick me in the jimmies from the rear.
Guaranteed Duda fights dirty.