Holy Crap...I'm That Guy!!!

So the time has come to put my thoughts and stories into words. I hope anyone reading our posts will find something they can relate to, disagree with, laugh at, and possibly even cry about. Okay maybe there won't be many tear jerking articles. But who knows guys have feelings too. Hell I cried like a school girl through the entire movie of Blind Side and Marley & Me.

Myers and I attempted to have our first brainstorming session about this blog a few nights ago. With our kids crying, screaming, pooping, and various other child like shananigans. Then throw in our lovely wives gossiping, moaning about breast feeding, and watching an episode of the Real Housewives of somewhere. I think you see where I am going with this...we got jack squat accomplished.

Now I had previously planned to go out later that night to watch my brother's band play in town. It was a Thursday night. I don't ever go out on weeknights anymore.I will get back to this point shortly. Myers was able to somehow pull off the last second approval from the wife to join me for the evening. This takes a certain skill that only few married men w/ children can do. More on this in point in a later post.

My brother told me his band goes on at 9:30. At this point in my life 9:30 is considered pretty late. According to my wife being out at this time on Thursday night means she is adding about 3 to 5 extra "honey do's" to the list. Myers and I make it to the the bar where my brother's playing somewhere around 9:30. When we get there this young feller attempts to charge Myer's and I a $5 cover charge. Little did he know but we were on the guest list. The young door man shows me the guest list and states we are not on it. Actually, nobody was on the guest list. It was just a blank sheet of paper. So I call my brother who walks out and writes my name and Myers name on this blank sheet of paper to make it official. That's right, Chet (that's me) still has connections!!! So we make our way in and find that my connection has got us into a completely empty bar. My brother then informs me that he is not going on until 10:30. Myers and I look at each other, I think we both noticed the level of sleepiness that already existed in both of us. We realized that this drive by visit was going to take a little longer than previously planned. The only way to soothe this feeling was to get a beer, so that's what we did.

During the hour before the show the patrons began to make their way in. I took a moment to take stock of the folks who were here for the gig...then...this wierd feeling hit me. I don't know if it was because of all the plotting and banter about what we wanted to do with our blog or if it was just reality. Whatever it was it caused me to say to myself, "Holy {expletive}, I am that guy!" Now you might be asking who is "that guy?" I am pretty sure that all of us at various points in our late teens, early, mid, and maybe even our late 20's have made a personal pact with oneselve that we will work to stay in touch with the latest trends in fashion, music, and whatever other superficial item we must adorn to show the world that we are still hip to the game. You might be asking what exactly it was that triggered this unfortunate self proclamation. Two words...skinny jeans. Correction....four words....skinny jeans for dudes. I'm not talking about jeans that are tight because they were your favorite pair of jeans from college that you refuse to throw out. Lord knows I have about three pair I keep in the closest for that perfect occasion called "when I am 30lbs lighter." There wasn't just one dude rocking these jeans. No, it was practically every guy in this bar not named Drew or Myers. I was fascinated by this look. I wanted to interview one of these guys and find out what children's clothing store he got the nut-hugging denims from. I also wanted to know if they come in a size 38. I then had a chuckle with myself when trying to imagine me having to lather up in baby oil just to get my own pair of skinny jeans past my luscious thighs. Since popping the cork on my 30's I also added another attractive feature...a gut...or what I like to call my built in belt. It keeps all of my britches fitting snuggly at the waist. I couldn't delete the horrific image of me in skinny jeans from my head. It turned my laughter into a few tears that I played off by stating that the bar was too smokey (first blog and I am already crying...damn).

2 hours later I am dropping Myers off at his home and make the 300 yd drive back to my house. Before I turned off the vehicle I sat in my car listening to the end of one of my favorite songs by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Here I am still rocking out a 8 year old song like it's the latest hit. I had one last laugh and thought to myself, "Yep...I'm that guy."

Till next time,
Chet

Shameless plug:
My brothers band is called Natty Bumpoe. Check them out at nattybumpoe.com.

Ok. Maybe we should stick to the point of the blog.

So, seriously my wife and three others created a blog called drinkandpump.blogspot.com. The point of their blog is to basically talk about how crazy our kids are and to bitch about how stupid their husbands are. So, two husbands out of four decided to fight back, so to speak. The other two husbands hopefully will join this battle that is plaguing the earth and making men retreat into their understocked, ratty plastic tip dartboard with no replacements and one neon sign, MANCAVES. I think it is a shame that we have come to the point that men have to create a special area in their home (or shed) to seclude themselves only to 'get away.' Before you say "WHAT," just hear me out. The mancave was created by women because they also sometimes don't want us to be around them. This whole idea is a very vicious cycle or circle, whatever. They created it and presented the idea of us having mancaves so that is something they can hold over our heads in the future, unavoidable arguments that they no doubtedly will win.
Why do WE have to have that smelly rat hole? Why not them? What, why do they get the whole rest of the house? Oh great, a room that I can go to but also have to share as a playroom with snot nose little kids coughing in your face. A true mancave is shared with no one. Laying in your boxers drinking a tasty beer and maybe doing things that I probably shouldn't talk about on this blog. I want to be able to scratch or pick anything and yell at the tv without little Lorraine running and telling on me. That it is why this whole thing is shameful.
But I digress. I guess mancaves was the first topic of discussion. Thanks for listening. eat me
pooz

Something that REALLY bothers me PART 1

1.Guys wearing sunglasses inside or at night.
2.Cut off jean shorts on dudes.
3.Girls wearing cut off jean shorts where the jeans are cut off at the knee. Either daisy dukes or nothing.
4.Customers snapping their fingers to get my attention.
5.People telling they like good beer and their favorite is Killians.