Dearly Beloved insists that I clarify an earlier blog in which I implied that I had fed him cereal for dinner because he is, you know, Mr. Malleable.
He’s right; I didn’t. I tossed leftover cheese tortellini, leftover roasted veggies and some other stuff together for a pasta salad which he loved. The man is a leftover freak. As long as I cooked it, he loves it–every time.
The way to DB’s heart IS through his stomach.
Speaking of cooking, that reminds me. . . have you seen the latest round of Viagra commercials, like the one where Mr. Hardon comes up behind The Little Woman while she is busily chopping veggies? I couldn’t believe it.
For gawd’s sake, man, she’s fixing your dinner and she has a knife in her hand. Haven’t you learned anything during all those years? Are you freakin’ NUTS????
Then there’s the one with the husband outside trimming trees and along comes Mrs. 60-Something, hot-to-trot, luring him down from the ladder.
Puh-lease!!! Like that’s going to happen!
She’s probably been nagging him for months to get those limbs cut and there is no way she’s going to do anything to coax him off that ladder because she knows that it will be impossible to get him back on it.
Any sane wife would look out and think, “Keep trimming, Babes. We’ll talk after the sun goes down.”
(Funny, but I asked DB about these commercials and he gave me a blank look. Doesn’t remember ever seeing them… AS IF I watch them on the Home & Garden channel. I’m sure he just tuned them out. However, he can lip sync the beer commercials. Gah!!!! )
Think about it. What about bears and snakes? I don’t know any wife who would unzip until the tent IS zipped! That last scene, where the two sit bare nekkid in a couple of old bathtubs they just happened to come upon while hiking the ridge? Would “set-up” not cross their minds?
Bird poop, forest rangers, hikers, rustling noises in the woods, critters, varmints, crazed mountain men, Candid Camera… The cold porcelain wouldn’t be the only thing giving me the shivers! Holy crap!!!
Besides all that, there is still the four-hour warning, plus the additional cautionary to the guy about calling a physician if he finds himself losing eyesight or hearing. Frankly, it’s hard to picture some rash-covered, insect-bitten, wobbly-kneed-after-four-hours woman trying to lead her suddenly-blind-and-deaf-but-still-aroused man back down the mountainside. I’m thinking that average woman would have grabbed the chopping knife, pruning shears, or camping hatchet well before that fourth hour alarm sounded.
I can understand why a commercial showing an old coot racing his wheelchair around the rest home halls with a bouquet of flowers in his hand might not be an advertiser’s dream, but let’s get a bit of reality in here.
For instance… we have a bachelor neighbor who, when he invites his lady friends over, has the grill fired up for steaks, his bar well-stocked, beach music playing, and his best Hawaiian shirt on. He calls such an evening a Viagra Party and he invites four or five women.
Now THAT’S a commercial, Viagra!