Don’t Fall For Pushy Women

Last July a woman in Montana shoved her newlywed husband off a cliff to his death.  This news surprised and shocked almost everyone.  Some people (mostly women) were sad for the woman because after finding her soul-mate, the lifetime commitment ended in just over a week.  Other people (mostly men) wondered how the guy could have made such a poor choice.  Now many guys are married to “pushy” women, but this one was bit “overly pushy”.

However there is one group of guys that was not surprised at all by this news item.  These are men who are married to a woman that experience (notice I didn’t say suffers because that would be sexist) Enhanced PMS, or EPMS.  I don’t think this is a medical term, but it should be.  While many people make jokes about PMS, EPMS is not a laughing matter.  EPMS can result in you being pushed off a high cliff to your death.  EPMS is similar to demon possession, but unfortunately a Catholic priest is no match for it.  You just have to wait for nature to literally run its course.

Enhanced PMS in action - time to shut up!

My guess is that pushy bride was experiencing EPMS when this unfortunate incident occurred.  Of course EPMS alone did not cause this tragedy, there has to be a “trigger”.  And of course by a trigger I am referring to the poor husband’s mouth.  He obviously said something that he no doubt regretted all the way down until he hit the ground.

Evolution has caused men in close relationships with EPMS women to adapt to survive. These men don’t say anything once the EPMS period (literally, again) starts. Unless of course he is supposed to say something and then you choose his words very carefully.  Sort of like your life depends on it, because of course, it does.

So you have to wonder what this poor guy’s last words were.  Here are some possibilities:

-         Wow, your butt really looks huge in those jeans.  Next time we fly, we may have to buy you an extra seat!

-         That sammich you made me today was horrible.  The bread was stale and it had too much catsup.  It was just awful, one of the worst I’ve ever had.  Next time I tell you to make me a sammich, I expect you to do much better.

-         Hey your sister is looking so smoking hot since she lost all that weight.  Maybe you should go on a diet.

-         You are spending way too much money on shoes and make-up.  How am I ever going to afford my boat when you keep wasting money on stupid crap?

-         I can’t believe how large your friend Becky’s breasts are.  They are huge!  Her husband sure is a lucky guy.

-         You really need to remember to put the toilet seat up after you finish.  I’m tired of putting the thing up every time I go in there.

-         Quit complaining!  You are starting to sound just like your mother and you know how big of a bitch she is.

-         Can you pick up these clothes I threw the floor!   I almost tripped and hurt myself.  I want this floor kept clean.

-         I know we were supposed to go out for a romantic dinner to celebrate the night we met, but the guys are having a very important fantasy football league meeting tonight at Hooters.  So just make yourself a sammich.

-         Do you really have to talk so much?   I going to have to buy me some of those noise cancellation headphones.

Now I don’t know how the trial will turn out, but if I was on the jury I would want to know if the woman was under the influence of EPMS and if so, what her husband said to set her off.  And if she was experiencing EPMS and her husband did say something stupid, I’m letting her walk.  Well, under one condition, that she is required to tell any future suitors on their first date exactly how her first husband died.  If you’re getting a pushy woman, better to know that up front.  

A Very Heartwarming Christmas Miracle Type Of Story

Gather round children.  (Okay, children shouldn’t be reading this) So gather round grown up children, your Uncle Don is going to tell you a heartwarming Christmas story that truly expresses the meaning of this glorious time of year.

Many years ago, one morning, just a week before Christmas, Uncle Don’s butthead boss called the whole marketing department together for an important announcement.  It seems the evil bean counters had completed next year’s budget and determined that in January, one person would have to be dismissed from the department.

You might wonder children, why oh why, would the boss announce this right before Christmas.  Why not just wait until January to deliver the news to the unfortunate individual and let everyone enjoy the holidays in peace? Well children, that’s why he was a butthead.  He was a big ‘ol stupid butthead who often just farted out random thoughts for no good reason.   You will find that many managers you encounter in your career are buttheads, with a big butt right where their brain should be.

After the workers were dismayed and scurried down the hall to discuss the situation.  They could not believe the company would do this because it was profitable and the department was overworked already.  Everyone was in agreement this was a bad, bad, thing.

And this was a strange occurrence because it caused Uncle Don and Val the Bitch to agree on something.  Val the Bitch and Uncle Don did not get along very well at all.  Val the Bitch hated Uncle Don and was threatened by his superior marketing skills and vast intellect.  Uncle Don hated Val the Bitch because she was a stupid, disgusting, mega-bitch with a horrible personality and no marketing skills whatsoever.

Her bitchy personality and lack of physical attractiveness resulted in her having serious problems in her social life.  Several times a year she would arrive at the office and announce loudly and enthusiastically, “Hey, I got lucky last night!” What that really meant children is: “Hey, I’m not such a disgusting bitch.  I had a boyfriend last night for 10 minutes!

Yes children, this behavior was typical of the disgusting, pathetic, existence of Val the Bitch. But don’t think that Uncle Don wasn’t sympathetic on these occasions.  He wondered just how desperate, lonely, drunk, insane or stoned a guy would have to be to actually copulate with Val the Bitch.  He hoped these unfortunate souls were not emotionally (or physically) scarred for life.  And most of all, Uncle Don hoped that they took a long, hot, shower using industrial grade soap as soon as they got home because it is difficult to wash that type of bitchiness off.

But now Uncle Don and Val the Bitch were suddenly on the same team, united in scorn of the butthead boss.  As the discussion wound down, somebody realized that the butthead boss had chosen to make his announcement a mere 90 minutes before he was taking the department out for our annual festive Christmas lunch.  What moronic timing!  That puts the butt in butthead.

“Merry Christmas” said someone sarcastically.

“Merry Frikin’ Christmas said Val the Bitch.

“Merry Frikin’ Christmas indeed”, exclaimed Uncle Don.

So the Christmas lunch was very awkward that year.  The Christmas joy had been sucked out of the employees, but the butthead boss was having a great time yucking it up, totally oblivious to the lack of enthusiasm of all the others.

After the meal, the butthead boast raised his glass in the air with great fervor and bellowed “Merry Christmas!”  Of course at that point everyone else thought in their heads, “Merry Frikin’ Christmas”.  Unfortunately your Uncle Don started to laugh at this thought and lowered his head so he would not fizz off the boss with this highly inappropriate outburst.

And it was at this moment something magical happened. Val the Bitch, who happened to be sitting next to Uncle Don, gave him a swift, hard, kick under the table.  This immediately snapped Uncle Don to his senses and he thrust his glass in the air and proclaimed: “Merry Christmas indeed!” With this, the Christmas luncheon and Uncle Don’s job was saved. It was a miracle children, it was a Christmas miracle!

And then in that restaurant, in that moment of Christmas merriment, Uncle Don realized that Val the Bitch was not really a bitch at all, but she was a valued co-worker, she was a real person, with real feelings and real issues and that she was trying to do the best with what she had.  And this children, is the miracle of Christmastime, when everyone puts away their grievances and learns to love their fellow man.  Where there is peace on Earth and goodwill to all men, which does include all the bitches and bastards in your life.

Merry Christmas Children and Happy Holidays from your Uncle Don

My Diet Plan Is Burning Me Out

Recently I noticed some alarming personal trends.  Several of my shirts no longer fit and I had to buy some new belts.  I wondered why my clothes dryer was suddenly shrinking my shirts and I suspected that a humidity change in the house was shortening my belts.

I guess I could be gaining weight, but I choose to employ the Eric Cartman (from South Park) defense. “I’m not fat, I’m big boned!” I told myself

repeatedly until one day after showering, I walked past the mirror.  “Whoa, what is that whale doing in my bedroom?”  I may be “big-boned” but those bones were now supporting a generous amount of fat.   My gut was certainly not displaying “six-pack abs”.  Yes, where the six-pack was supposed to be instead sat an enormous beer barrel.

I live in a culture of personal irresponsibility, so of course this weight gain is not my fault.  I blame it on “Cheez-Its”.  They now make Cheez-Its in 14 different flavors. This means you can eat a different flavor every day for  two entire weeks, which I feel a responsibility to do.  If they are going to make all these different Cheez-Its, then they expect someone to eat all of them and I am committed to pursuing this cause.  Somewhere in the Cheez-It factory is a single-mother, working to support her children, whose job depends on people consuming mass quantities of crackers. Therefore I am truly doing this “for the children”.

So in effect I have been on the Cheez-It diet.  Which meant that every time I thought about eating less and going on a real diet, I would just say “aw Cheez-It” and grab some more crackers.  My only concern is that my favorite Cheez-It flavor is “White Cheddar” and I hope my preference for white crackers does not make me a racist.

But when I was devouring all those Cheez-Its, I never thought about where they were going. And now I have 30 pounds of Cheez-Its stored in my gut.  So a real diet is in order.

The best weight reduction plan I found on the Internet was from Jason Sudekis who said in July that he was losing weight due to having frequent, vigorous, sex with his fiancé Olivia Wilde (really said it).  Now that’s a program

Part of the best diet plan ever!

I need to jump on.  But when I called to sign up for “The Wilde Sex Diet Plan”, I found out that Olivia is pregnant and after the birth there is a three-year waiting list for getting on the program.

So I decided to try a diet based on “fat burners”.  This seemed liked a perfect plan for me.  It’s much cheaper than Nutrisystem, although if I thought it would make Marie Osmond like me, I would write the check in an instance. But the best thing about using fat burners is that I can sit on my fat ass and the fat burners do all the work.  The fat just burns right off.

Of course on the first day I took double the suggested dosage of the fat burners because I’ve got a lot of fat to burn and I want it gone fast.  But I never even thought about where this “burned” fat would go.

I soon found out.  The fat burners resulted in frequent and vigorous movements.  Ironically in the Wilde Sex Diet there are no doubt frequent and vigorous movements, however they, no doubt, are much more pleasurable than the ones I experienced.   

It felt like I had flushed the 30 pounds from my system in one epic battle.  I was very disappointed to get on the scale and see a loss of only three pounds.  And I was also disappointed to find out that my septic system was gaining significant more weight than I was losing. 

The money I had saved by not buying the “packaged diet plan” was now being spent getting my septic system sucked.  “That’s one of the worst blockages I’ve ever seen”, exclaimed the septic guy. “And the strange thing is, it was orange!”