And a Happy Father’s Day

Driving home the other day, we passed a sign reminding us all to call your dad for Father’s Day.  The Reigning Queen of Pink was *very* cheerful about this idea.  “Yay!  I’ll call Daddy for Father’s Day!  What kind of cell phone are you buying me?”

Right.  I can almost smell the law degree I’ll be paying for…

Happy Father’s Day to mine and yours!

ManFAQ Friday: Washer? I hardly knew ‘er!

It’s Friday, and that means answer time! For those of you who have commented with questions from previous ManFAQs, thank you. I’m adding yours to the list of questions women have asked about men over the years, and I will answer them all in turn – to continue to demystify the more malodorous gender for those of the gentler.  Actual questions, posed by real women, and answered by a REAL man. What could go wrong?


Question: I’m sure lots of guys do laundry – why can’t mine seem to make this happen without help?

Answer: Most of us are convinced that the laundry will eventually do itself.  When we were in college, there were documented cases of guys wearing their clothes long enough that the shirts and pants became so imbued with the essence of the guy that they crawled off without him and washed themselves.  We knew this was true because the guy would wake up the next morning and wouldn’t be able to find his clothes anywhere.  (This was usually obvious when he tried to walk the rest of the way home.)  Anyway, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.

So yeah, he’ll get around to it if you’re willing to wait.  It might be easier to get a new blouse, though, if you’re waiting for him to do your laundry also.  Most of us understand laundry at the same level as “rent” and “car payments” – expensive, unpleasant things that can wait until the last possible minute, once a month – like “that” week, but with detergent.


Now you know.  Please, feel free to comment!  Also, forward any questions you’d like answered to BUMD – at – biguglymandoll.com!

Really, Starbucks?

Long-time readers will note that I am not much of an “activist” for anything that doesn’t involve hot dogs, beer, or Hey Hey.   I’m also widely known as a migratory lifeform with a tropism for bookstores and coffeehouses.

As such, since the link below involves both Hey Hey and coffeehouses, I’m forwarding this for your reading – well, pleasure is the wrong word.  I’m forwarding this for your reading horror. 

http://lilfamilyblog.wordpress.com/2011/06/13/i-know-starbucks-is-not-an-anti-gay-homophobic-company-by-policy-but/

Because intolerance, as the man said, is something up with which we should not put.

ManFAQ Friday: Hot Dog!

It’s Friday, and that means answer time! For those of you who have commented with questions from previous ManFAQs, thank you. I’m adding yours to the list of questions women have asked about men over the years, and I will answer them all in turn – to continue to demystify the more malodorous gender for those of the gentler.  Actual questions, posed by real women, and answered by a REAL man. What could go wrong?


Question:   Why on earth do you think it’s a good idea to take a picture of that?  Do you really think we want to see it?  Does Weiner have some kind of mental defect, or are you ALL like that?

Answer:   First, let me make two things perfectly clear:  Yes, he has a mental defect.  And yes, we’re all like that.  Look, there are a few things at play here – so to speak. 

First, the idea that you wouldn’t want to look at it doesn’t occur to us – Hey, Look What I Made!  We’re excited, we think you should be excited too – he made that thing himself, you know.  Or at least we hope he did, if he’s sending you the gift of GIF. 

Second, he thinks it’s pretty.  Remember that he’s had it forever, and it’s the only thing that he’s always been able to count on to make him happy and feel good – of course it’s beautiful to him.  It’s the prettiest thing in the world.  (This is also the main attraction of Point of View porn, but that’s another post.)  So yes, he does think you want to see it. 

And last, you know that he wants you to see it so you’re thinking about Hey Hey.  I’ll confess, we don’t ALL think sending the Polaroid of the Pole is the best opening line – sometimes a simple pubic hair on a can of Coke will do – but you ARE thinking about it, aren’t you?

Momma, don’t take my Kodachrome away!


Now you know.  Please, feel free to comment!  Also, forward any questions you’d like answered to BUMD – at – biguglymandoll.com!

ManFAQ Friday: Car 54, Where Are You?

It’s Friday, and that means answer time! For those of you who have commented with questions from previous ManFAQs, thank you. I’m adding yours to the list of questions women have asked about men over the years, and I will answer them all in turn – to continue to demystify the more malodorous gender for those of the gentler.  Actual questions, posed by real women, and answered by a REAL man. What could go wrong?


Question:   I know you’re so mightily important that you need a device that provides 24×7 connectivity, but do you have some kind of sixth sense for turning your phones off when I need to reach you?  

Answer:   No, we don’t have a sixth sense for that.  We have a seventh sense for that.  Our sixth sense is completely dedicated to Hey Hey and the pursuit thereof.   The sixth sense is the one that comes up with plausible excuses for not taking your calls:  “I’m sorry, it wasn’t charged last night – I think the charger’s dead.”  “You called?  I must have been in a bad cell – unless you called while I was in the Top Secret facility; the phones don’t work in there.”  “I forgot to take it off silent after I finished my meeting with the President.”  These are designed to make you less mad and more likely to consider further Hey Hey – the sixth sense is the one that nudges us with the one most likely to work.

The seventh sense is the one that tells him you’re not calling to coordinate Hey Hey or beer, you’re calling to see if he can turn around and pick up the kid’s clothes and bring them to school, or to remind him to pick up your mother at the airport, or clean the catbox, or pick up some tofu on the way home.  Those calls.  We really don’t receive them, because we really did leave the charger plugged into the outlet that’s on the wall switch, and we can’t remember to flip the switch if we want it charge.  Also, he probably couldn’t have heard you anyway – it’s his favorite song they’re gonna play.  He’s kinda busy.


Now you know.  Please, feel free to comment!  Also, forward any questions you’d like answered to BUMD – at – biguglymandoll.com!