I am NOT 5... Well, There ARE Those Days

I am about to rip my hair out. I finally came out and told my fiance's mom all of things I felt about her attitude towards our relationship in one giant facebook message. Sue me for not doing it face to face. My thoughts come out more clearly when they are written, and mailing a letter just seems so time consuming in this age of instant communication. Don't you think?

I am NOT these children:

(America's Funniest Home Videos - Dumb Kids)

Well, most days I am not. There are those mornings I wake up and trip directly over one of our fifty dogs and land flat on my face. And sometimes I just can't resist running over my fiance with my truck. That is why he no longer has any legs or arms and a faulty spleen. Oh wait, that was just a day dream. (J/K Adam, you know I love you.)
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I have decided that I am going to make WHY WOMEN DON'T LOVE YOU a daily segment along with Larry's Daily Bitch. I've also decided that Larry's Daily Bitch will look much more pretty in fuschia. It will match up much more nicely with some of his more girlish tendencies.

WHY WOMEN DON'T LOVE YOU:
Because men should NEVER wear speedos, even if you have the most perfect body on the planet. I don't want to see your bulge, which is always ridiculously evident in a tight little speedo. You especially should not wear a speedo if you are a fat, old man with a bulging pot belly. I took this photo on a trip to Three Creeks in Sister, OR. The gorgeous scenery was destroyed by the mostly naked old man walking along the lake shore. Apparently, ONE woman loved him, but by the look on her face she was seriously contemplating an immediate divorce. If I had a child, and they were with me, I would be covering their eyes. Its legal, but that doesn't make it ethical. Yuck.

Because you are NOT as sexy as you think you are. In fact, this photo makes me want to barf in a plastic Walmart bag. Tons of body hair is not manly and will not make a woman want to jump you right then and there (contrary to the myth perpetuated by Sean Connery Bond films.) Hairy men are nasty. Guys who think they are hot, and wear speedos because they want to show off their entire "schmexy" bodies as well as highlight the little "gift" in their "package" just come off as egotistical jack-offs. Girls don't like guys who are high on themselves. Arrogance is NOT a turn on. That and your misguided beliefs that speedos are in fact sexy makes you a perfect target of point-and-laugh. I must also add that The Hoff seems like a complete douchebag, and I question his sexuality. He is a judge on America's Got Talent. I use to watch that because the crazy people entertain me. I remember them having a live show, and not being able to show any acts when coming back from commercial because Hoff had locked himself in his dressing room and was refusing to come out until Pierre (one of the other judges) apologized for hurting his fragile little feelings. That just screams needy little child. Women don't go for that. In your case, they might go for your money, but I doubt any of them would like your personality OR your looks.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I think that sums this photograph up.
A. You are posing like a CHICK. It looks like this photo should be the centerfold of a gay mag. This is not turning on any women, except maybe lonely 80 year olds who haven't gotten any for a decade or so.
B. You don't get women by trying to mix two things that you THINK they like together. You THINK you are being sexy, and you are mixing that with women's love for cute puppies. You should never mix nude men and puppies. Its beyond creepy. We DO like sexy men, but that is not you. And even if you were sexy, we don't want to see a poor little puppy laying in your crotch. Thats just strange on so many levels. I actually think it may be some form of animal cruelty.

Larry's Bitch of the Day:

This one is quite funny. We had a big thunderstorm last night, and it hailed. The hail was about the size of a marble, maybe a little bit bigger. I got pelted with quite a few as I ran back and forth outside getting the animals under shelter. Larry had no problem with the hail last night. Of course he had been drinking and he was having fun attempting to get into the pants of some girl he had brought home. This "morning" (1:30 p.m. for Larry), we get home from town and he is standing outside with his cell phone in his ear, flailing his arms around. As soon as we got out of the truck, he descended on us to lament his misfortune very loudly while gesturing emphatically. "My truck is RUINED!" he wailed. Standing in front of it, you could see small dings in the hood from the hail. They were not that big and can easily be taken care of by his insurance. Apparently, he imagines enormous dings all over the sides and the roof, though I saw none. He has been running around the house for the past hour on the phone with several people practically screaming about how he just got it detailed, how he will not accept a bondo job (he is apparently going to demand an entirely new hood), and how bad being in a hail storm will look on a car fax should he ever sell it. Oh Larry, how you amuse me so.