10 Reasons Men Just Have It Better

Men are good at this, fixing cars, mowing lawns and scratching balls. Not necessarily in that order though.

It’s a fact. Men are happier overall than women, and it’s because everything is just simply better for us. I’m not being sexist, and I’m certainly not trying to upset any fringe groups of militant cashiers on the internet, but the simple truth of the matter is that men on the whole have it better than women.

Now I’m sure I’m going to get blasted by some feminist fruitcake who wants to let me know that they, in fact, can do many of the things I’m about to say they can’t below. To that handful of insecure and lonely women, all I can offer is “So what?”

My goal here isn’t to be specific to every person on the planet, that would be impossible and I’d have to figure out which category to put Rosie O’donnel in. Honestly that’s not fair to anyone, and I believe she opens jars with her ass and some udder butter. But now I’m getting off track and I’d just as soon get into this article about 10 Reasons Men Have it Better than Women.

1. Our last name stays put. Unless you’re one of those sissy-men who takes his wife’s last name or hyphenates his name to show equality or some other such drivel, the man’s name never changes when he gets married. Of course, if he’s marrying two or more women in different states, then maybe his name does change, but that’s purely by chance, and not at all necessary to the ceremony.

2. Speaking of weddings, the plans for a wedding just magically take care of themselves. Sure, you might have to help pick out a china pattern or agree on the buffet menu, but otherwise those things are simple. I don’t understand why women have such a stressful time with these things. Mine was a breeze. I rented a tux, showed up at the church, went to the Moose Lodge afterwards and we partied. Easy as pie. Plus, it’s cheaper for us. Tux Rental – $350, Wedding Dress – $5,000

3. We can open all of our own jars. Again, this only applies if you’re not a sissified, pseudo-man who hyphenates his name and waxes his groin.

4. People never stare at our breasts when we’re talking to them. And if they do, they’re doing it because of our massively impressive pectoral muscles that make us oh-so-macho and tough looking. Never because they want to get us out of our clothes and motorboat us.

5. Our underwear is about $7.50 for a three pack. There’s limited options: Briefs, boxers, boxer-briefs. (If you said bikini cut, you may as well go ahead and hyphenate your last name and let me open that jar for you, Nancy)

6. Our hairstyle remains in fashion for years, if not decades.

7. Wrinkles simply add character, and grey hair is a distinguishing characteristic. Women simply get old and grey.

8. We can go on a 5 day vacation and have more than enough clothing in a single suitcase.

9. Same work, more pay.

10. We can get Christmas shopping done for two-dozen relatives on December 24th in just under an hour.

In conclusion, all I can say is that it’s great to be a man. We don’t have the problems that women do and we’re not expected to be anything more than what we are. Belching, farting, scratching, hairy, smelly, lazy lumps of humanity, and it’s not only acceptable, it’s quite often expected of us.

‘Twas the weekend before Xmas

‘Twas the weekend before Xmas
And all through the garage,
Beer bottles were piling up
While I was dreaming of a massage

The dirt bike was torn apart
On my jerry rigged work-bench
While I busted my knuckles
Trying to turn a gawldamn wrench

My children were playing video games
While I was out there, blaspheming God’s name
My wife was on Facebook, oblivous was she
As I was fooling with a dirt bike that will be the death of me.

When out in the court there arose such a ruckus
Four teens in a hooptie, blaring music, aw, fuck-us.
Out of the garage, I charged pissed off and mad
To send them away, from my house ‘cuz I’m Dad.

The driver of the car extended his arm
I thought that I might be in for some kind of harm
When what to my beer goggled eyes should there linger
But his longest left digit, yeah, the middle finger.

I walked towards the car with hate in my heart
I figured I’d cuss out this stupid young fart.
But as I approached, he jumped out of the car
And held up both hands, “Man, don’t come over too far!”

Now listen up homie, I don’t want a fight
If you turn back around, everything’ll be a-ight.
I got no beef with you, you’re a big goddamn dude
I wasn’t aiming at you, I wouldn’t be quite that rude.

So now I’m listening to this teen talk
I’m wondering if I should just take a walk
When over my shoulder I noticed what was wrong
Another kid holding up two fingers and shouting, “I put these in your mom!”

So back to the shop I trudged with a smile
Thinking to drink more beer for a while
But surprising enough, my wife came out then
Get your big fat ass in here, the toilet’s leaking again.

Happy weekend before Christmas ya’ll. See ya on Monday!

It’s a magical time of the year…

Fa la la la la...Cash!

It’s the time of year when our thoughts all turn to love, happiness, joy, peace on earth, goodwill towards men…and sales. That’s right, it’s sale time bitches!

Honestly, all that other crap doesn’t even come into play unless it’s pre-printed on our Taiwanese wrapping paper or our Dollar Store Christmas Cards. How many of us are just sitting around with a goofy smile on our faces, humming silly songs and thinking about peace and love? You are? Get offa my lawn you damn, dirty hippie!

This is the time of the year when you’re trying to out-decorate your neighbors, out-spend your friends and just generally get as much shit as you possibly can for Christmas, so it’s the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!!! You know as well as I do that material garbage is more meaningful and a better gauge of the true spirit of Christmas than anything else. Nothing even comes close. What else are you gonna do? Celebrate Jesus Christ’s birthday? Really? That’s still a thing?

There’s no more reliable measuring stick for a successful holiday season than having the largest pile of garbage out at the curb on December 26th. LCD televisions, Blu-Ray DVD players, X-Box, Playstation, Wii, Kindles, iPads, iPods, iFish, blue-fish, one-fish, two-fish. The list is endless and fortunately enough, so are everyone’s credit limits. Spend spend spend! Buy buy buy! All so you can get bored with everything within a month. But don’t despair! Valentine’s day is coming, and that’s always good for purchasing shit too.

Yes, the most magical time of the year. Christmas, where the amount you spend is directly proportional to how much you love your family.

Religious People are Ruining Christmas for me.

We're here to talk to you about Jesus. No? How about them Redskins then hah?

Wait, wait, just wait. Let me explain wouldja?

I work from home, and believe it or not, I don’t make a fortune from this web site. I know it’s hard to believe, what with all the 3 or 4 people that come by to check it out once a month out of pity towards me, but it’s true. I actually work from home making vinyl graphics and signs, and the occasional hand woven cod piece.

Anyhow, I’m sitting here trying to earn a living this morning and there’s a knock at the door. It’s never good when there’s a knock at my door because the delivery guys know to just drop and go, and I always have notice when a customer is stopping in. Basically nobody that I would want to see ever shows up unannounced. In fact, I live down the road from a Jehovah’s Witness building, temple, whatever they call it. Pantheon perhaps? I don’t know, I just know that it’s chock full of Jehova’s Witnesses and usually they keep to themselves. Except when they don’t.

I opened the door and was faced with this sweet little old lady, wearing her Sunday best and I knew what was coming. Before I could even say “Get to steppin’” she launched into her spiel. ”Hi, I’m <whatever the hell she said her name was, I wasn’t listening> and I’m here with some of my friends to talk about what’s on everybody’s mind this time of year.” Really? I was skeptical that she knew what was on my mind, so I decided to ask and find out. If there’s one thing my Mother taught me it was to ask questions when you weren’t sure of the answers.

“Lady, I sincerely doubt you’re here to talk about what’s on my mind this time of year. Unless you want to talk about the Washington Redskins, BBQ meats, hoagies, Miller Lite or getting a little piece of ass, we are definitely not on the same page.” I have to give her credit, she was unfazed and undaunted.

<jehova’s witness> ”No sir, I’m here to talk about Jesus. You are Christian aren’t you?”

<gutmeister> ”Ah now I see the problem. No, I’m not Christian.”

<jehova’s witness> ”You’re not?”

<gutmesiter> ”Nope, my name’s Bill. Christian lives somewhere else.”

And I shut the door.

24 days until Xmas

Xmas, it's supposed to say Xmas

Yes, I wrote Xmas. Why not Christmas instead you ask? Shut up I say. Christmas takes too long to type out and with Xmas you damn well know what I mean. Eeesh. Christmas, Xmas, it’s all good. Just enjoy it for the love of all that’s commercial and over-priced.

So, with 24 days to go until Christmas, I’ve realized that we’ve already blown our budget on the kids. We planned to take them to a WWE Live event, which we did if you read this article:

WWE Wrestling Show in My Hometown

And after that we planned to just get them each a few things that they could play with and save the money. See, in years past, the kids have proven to us that they simply enjoy destroying shit. Doesn’t matter what it is, how much it costs or how lucky they might be to have it, the goal is total and utter destruction. Perhaps it’s my fault. Perhaps it’s the fault of magical powdered sugar farting flying leprechauns. Who knows? Who cares? It’s money down the toilet.

For example, last year at Xmas (yes, Xmas) we bought them a few wrestling action figures and one of the wrestling rings to go with them. Now, follow my timeline as I go through this for you:

7:30am – We open and discover the wrestling ring.
7:32am – We’re done opening the other 3 dozen presents and have found the action figures to go with the ring
8:02am – Dad (me) has finally assembled this abomination from the pits of hell and we’re playing with it.
8:35am – Dad’s on his 12th beer, it’s Xmas afterall
9:30pm – We come down the steps to announce that we stepped on and destroyed the wrestling ring, the Big Show action figure is missing a leg and John Cena is nowhere to be found.

Poor bastards, they almost made it a full 24 hours. But they underestimated my boys and their powers of destruction.

So this year, we agonized over what to get them for Xmas. (Yes, XMAS) And we finally decided on a few things, other than the tickets to go see the wrestling show. I won’t list what they’re getting just yet, as I still have 2 that believe in Santa, and 1 that would drive me up a damn wall if he saw what he was getting on this blog somehow. (I do try to hide the blog from them, as I think they’re too young and would become emotionally scarred by seeing their father with lipstick on his beer gut for profit).

At any rate, I’m putting odds out there that 50% of everything they open on Xmas morning (yes, Xmas) will be rendered useless by dawn on Boxing day. (Boxing day, when Canadians pack smoked herring to ship to their relatives).

I’ll keep you posted.

Belly Billboard