Saturday, August 22, 2009

Ugh. Grunt. Ugh.

Lord Gawd Almighty - it's great havin' a penis.

Howdy Kids. Yer ol pal Scrub here on the Toshiba this morn.

Ya know... the whole premise of this blog thingy is to give ya'll a wee peek into the life of Scrubbie. I give ya all the fam. Give ya the friends. Give ya the weirdos. Give it all.

And, Scrub also likes to give it to ya'll from a guy's perspective. Scrub's perspective.

Now... there's no gettin' around it. There IS a distinct difference between Scrubs and Scrubettes. We think differently. And, that's ok.

In fact, in some ways, this little corner of the web thing is kinda a public service... providing some insight into the Y chromosone.

See - we boys are simple folk at heart. We're easy to deal with. We're easy to get along with.

Give us a beer - we're happy. MMM... beer.

Give us meat - we're happy. Specially if we kill it first.

Give us a tree to whiz upon - we're happy. It's how we mark our territory.

Give us puurty things to look at - we're horny. Whoops - I mean happy.

See. Simple. Right?

But... give us toys. And we're REALLY happy. I mean... goosebumps, hair standing up, nipple exploding kinda happy.

Toys. Love toys.

Electronic toys. Gizmos. Things we can shoot. Cars, Trucks - well, anything with an engine really.

It all comes down to control when it comes to toys. We, with winkies, like to control and dominate things. Have total and complete power to weild. You can see it. Give us a toy and our chests burst forth. A grin creeps over our face. The veins in our forearms bulge with glee. And, we should not be spoken to at that time. We are fully engaged in our toy.

Let's go for a bit of a history lesson, shall we?

Many years ago. I mean MANY years ago... we boys were stompin' around and at some point, we discovered somethin. We discovered somethin really kewl. We discovered somethin that gave us the ultimate power. It was... fire.

We grunted. We giggled. We killed each other for it. Oh ya baby - those were the days. Pure, unbridled testosterone.

We had fire.

We used it. We flaunted it. We controlled it. We were happy.

Sure - over the years - those with willies have had to adapt and change. We learned to tame some urges. We learned to eat with a fork. We learned about manscaping.

But - if any of you think that we boys, underneath the deodorant and jockey shorts, shaved chins and designer colognes, are not still neanderthals... think again.

Oh - c'mon. It's true.

Huh? Proof you say? Ok - well... lets turn our attention back to fire then.

We boys STILL, to this day, so many thousands of years later, STILL get stiffies when it comes to controlling fire.

Alright - well... just take a look at this if you still don't believe me.

There. Told ya.

Look at the little sh*t there - tauntin' me.

Now... Scrub's off to get his shotgun, get in his 4x4, and to take out his dear Bro-In-Law and steal his fire.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My Dear Scrubbie soninlaw I love the way you describe the feelings of a man over a gas barby I never realized this before but I guess your right look how happy JR is, it makes a mother want to cry. luv ya Mommalou