Tag Archives: men

A new toy.

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The husband came home with a new toy last weekend.

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And before I knew it or could grab a good before picture…

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He’d trimmed an unruly hedge.

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And moved on to the next.

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These bushes can get out of hand quickly, and I trim them every fall. The husband always gave me Hell for bringing the trimmer in the office and cutting from an open window, but it was the only way I could reach. He ranted about how dangerous it was, how much of a mess it made…. and for years on end told me it wasn’t necessary.

You know where I’m going with this right?

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Yes.

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Once again I was proved right.

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And trimming through the open office window commenced.

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But the shrubbery was nicely shaped so I didn’t rub it in.

Well, not much.

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And to think it only took 9 years.

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Today we can finally say the barn construction is complete. After breaking ground (not to mention our backs) in April 2012, the last pieces were just put into place.

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Said pieces being soffit under the eaves. For years they had been open…

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But now they’re boxed in, vented and painted.

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And also impossible to photograph without massive sun reflections.

If I had my druthers, I’d finish off the porch ceiling as well….

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But for some reason the husband draws the line there.

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I think it’s because people compliment us on the new paint job… the one I wanted and he didn’t. It ticks him off everyone loves it and he has to take his revenge where he can.

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And you thought yesterday’s Cosmo selection was bad….

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The April issue of Cosmopolitan was chock full of ridiculousness, some of which I shared yesterday. But there was one more (helpful?) article that deserved attention… and a blog of its own.

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Are you awake yet? Good… please continue.

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For once I’m glad to be in the minority. Thankfully, smart phones had not yet been invented during my years on the dating scene … but if a guy I was seeing had mailed me a Polaroid of his pecker back then? I think I would have died laughing. Alas, times have changed and the dick pic is probably here to stay. So for the sake of any single male readers who happen to drop by, here are a few hints to get the most out of your … um… personal attributes.

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Think how much easier Anthony Weiner’s life would be if only he’d had a subscription to Cosmo.

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Are they? What gives it away…. The One Direction poster in the background or that pair of Chelsea boots under your bed.

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Best. Advice. Ever.

Trust me fellas, no one wants Cockzilla.

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The shelf war.

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We started with these 3 foot long shelves under the bar.

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They’re floating shelves… and while they technically don’t float, they are an absolute pain in the ass to install. So when I told the husband I wanted two more on the adjacent bar wall, he was less than thrilled but agreed they were necessary. Of course then the stupid electrician put the new outlets too high up on the wall to install 3 foot shelves at the same height as the others. That’s when the war began.

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I was fine with moving the bottom shelf higher.

The husband was not. Which resulted in a major kerfluffle.

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We disagreed on placement…. and though I had won the 4 versus 3 custom liquor bottle shelves battle, this war ended differently.

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Busy with other things we put this chore on the back burner… or so I thought until the husband disappeared one afternoon and I found him under the bar. Removing my 3 foot shelves and all their contents.

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Unbeknownst to me, he had returned my 3 foot shelves to the store and come home with the 2 foot versions instead. I told him I didn’t want 2 foot shelves. That it would look off balance and not provide enough space.

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To which he paid no attention and proceeded to install the stubby 2 foot shelves. He was determined they fit right into the corner and ripped out the nice trim piece I had our contractor install. When I looked displeased, he assured me they would line up perfectly with the existing shelves and look great.

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I think you know how that went.

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They didn’t line up, despite the numerous hours he cursed like a drunken sailor tinkered with them.

No matter what he did, the new shelves rose slightly above the older ones and wouldn’t lay flat.

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His solution?

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A few pieces of too thick moldy old wood from under the baby barn…. to bring them together.

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Which makes me wonder what part of the invisible bracket floating shelf aesthetic he didn’t understand.

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I’m hoping once we get the double tap kegerator in there the unbalanced shelves won’t be quite so noticeable.

But either way, there’s still not enough room.

😒

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Things I will not be giving my husband for Valentines Day this year.

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Have you ever looked at ads for products and thought, that can’t be real?

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Jerky flower bouquets for the special man in your life?

No way.

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Way.

And they’re not exactly giving them away either.

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The Ball Hammock.

Yes, my Facebook algorithm is back to its old tricks just in time for the holiday. Will I be buying my husband a rocket to put in his pants?

No.

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I will not be asking him to release the Kraken either.

Well, not that one anyway.

And finally the last gift I won’t be buying him…

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Ball therapy.

Just…. no.

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How seriously does my husband take feeding the birds?

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So seriously, that after filling the feeders and scattering seed on the ground for the cardinals during a snow storm?

He repeatedly chased off the interlopers.

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And threw bare handed snowballs at them to boot.

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He even followed them down the hill to the woods to make sure they were gone.

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Did I mention it was a little cold that day? Well, it was.

And just so you know?

This was the third of five hasty retreats the turkeys beat, only to come back and nosh happily on spilled seed when my husband gave up. (And no, I didn’t tell him.)

Turkeys – 1.

Husband – 0.

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I should have known it was coming.

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He already bought the big screen tv.

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And the microwave and the coffee maker.

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He bought the full size refrigerator and is building a bar.

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So is it any surprise he made me go shopping for a mini beverage fridge to put behind that bar the other day?

No. It is not.

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Things got quickly out of hand when he was looking at these….

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At $1,200 per unit.

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But I managed to reign him in and only come home with the one on the left… which, while not a total victory? Was still something to celebrate.

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