If you are reading this it is either random chance or you know me or want to know me better.

The Man went fishing. Night fishing for catfish with the neighbor. The Man was like a kid in a candy store...had his pole and tackle box, his cooler with the beer...and its midnight after he finished a full shift....The Man LOVES to fish. The funny part is...he HATES fish, even the smell let alone the taste. So being the intrepid woman I am, I will ooh and ahh over his catch (if any) and wrap it up and it will disappear into the black maw of the freezer, to be dutifully delivered to some poor soul because .... funnier still, I HATE CATFISH (and please do NOT tell me it is because I haven't had good catfish. I have and fixed a variety of ways too and at the end of the day, while I LOVE fish, I still Hate and Loathe the very sight of catfish.

As he was gleefully grabbing up his rods and tackle box I made the standard practical inquiry. Would you like me to spray you with insect repellant? Seemed pretty smart to me. You would have thot I impuned his manhood. Seems that the mosquitos won't bite him because they don't like 'dark meat'. The Man is part Italian and part Native American an is by no means that dark. I just grinned and said something along the lines that ok, well I won't be there for them to feed on.....wonder who's blood they'll be sucking.....should have bet him on it...but with my luck he'd win.

The Man and HIS remote. Note that HIS is in caps. You'd think I never ever watched TV let alone be permitted to touch the holy grail of maledom. Well the TV is his but that's beside the point. The Man is a dedicated channel surfer, if he could watch all of the channels at the same time he'd be in heaven. Well today the remote control wouldn't work. After much cursing and various techniques to get the remote to work, mostly consisting of banging it and the TV, a lightbulb went on. The batteries must be dead. Never mind that the same batteries have been in this remote for 4 years, no we had to hear about it, after everything else had been tried. So The Man all on his ownsome goes out and buys batteries, and the right size too btw. And where are these batteries while The Man is fishing? In the remote? Oh heck no. Laying on the counter waiting for him to reverently install them. Go figure but Goddess forbid I do it.

I readilly admit that I am oftentimes amused to no end by The Man and his antics. Is it something in the water that makes them this way?