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This week we have a guest that we are going to interview.  His name is Big Benny (he didn’t get the “big” nickname because he’s tall) and he has some helpful household tips for bachelors.  At least that’s what he tells me.   Actually, it was some guy who I was talking to in the park (for all I know he could be homeless.)  I had nothing else to write about this week, so I thought, what the heck.  Let’s see how this turns out:

Steve:  Benny, you said you have some household tips, give the readers some.

Big Benny:  This is one I really like because it not only keeps the house cleaned up but it also combines deep breathing which is good for the lungs. (As he says this he took a drag on his cigarette.)  When the dust gets so thick that it even bothers a single guy living alone then this really works out well…

Steve:  …Okay, do you want to tell us what it is?

Big Benny:  Oh yeah, so anyway, the dust is really thick so you take a really deep breath (he demonstrates and coughs while doing it) and blow the dust away.

Steve:  But that just scatters the dust, it doesn’t really clean anything.

Big Benny:  That may be true but now it’s not so concentrated so that ants can no longer make a home out of it.  Plus, now that I mention it, if there are ants on the furniture that you are cleaning you can blow them off too.  It’s almost as much fun as hunting.

Steve:  Interesting…

Big Benny: …Which reminds me how much I used to love to pour boiling water on a big swarm of ants on the sidewalk when I was a kid…ah memories!

Steve:  Yeah, well, what little boy doesn’t like to do that?  So, do you have any other hot household tips for the bachelor, and let me emphasize, if that’s all you have, that is perfectly okay.

Big Benny:  Not to worry, I have lots more.

Steve:  I was afraid you would.  What’s next?

Big Benny:  This is a really effective way of cleaning out your refrigerator, which many bachelors don’t ever think of.

(Let me point out that I’m smelling a lot of alcohol on Big Benny breath and it’s the morning, and I met him sitting on a park bench, all lending credence to the homeless theory.)

Steve:  All right, I’ll bite.  What is it?

Big Benny:  When your fridge is so disgusting with rotten food, etc. that it is begging to be cleaned, which by the way, is the limit that has to be reached for cleaning anything in a bachelor’s home, you spread maggots in the fridge to let them eat all the crud.  This is a little tip I got by watching the TV show “Bones” where they let maggots eat the flesh off of dead bodies to expose the bones.  I just thought of applying it to household tips.

Steve:  But then you have a refrigerator full of maggots.

Big Benny:  This is the cool part.  You spray them with bug killer and then sweep them out.  You rid the world of some maggots and you get a clean fridge…everybody wins.

Steve:  Okay then! That ‘s all the time we have…

Big Benny:  Wait I have one more fast one.

Steve:  Fine, go ahead.

Big Benny:  Food preparation…you make a list of all the places that deliver food and tape it to the fridge.

Steve:  Thanks, for the hot tips.

I got up to leave and Big Benny stopped me.

Big Benny:  Wait, you have to pay me.  I thought you were talking to me because you saw my “will give household tips to bachelors for food” sign.

I flipped him a quarter and I think I heard him mumble something about a cheapskate…he must have been thinking of someone else.  Anyway, I told him I’ll fix him up with a date too.  I’ve got to introduce him to the darnfunnyonline advice columnist, Dear Crabby, they’d make a great couple.

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As I was making out an order for vitamins I was starting to get a little sleepy and I put my head down on the vitamin catalog. It’s the only explanation I can come up with for the dream I had.

It seems there was a convention going on in my body.  It was a vitamin convention.  No, not a convention for vitamin salesmen, but a convention for vitamins themselves.  Minerals weren’t really invited; it was only for the vitamins.  That’s okay though because, the minerals, being the building blocks of the body, were like the construction workers just outside of the convention hall, in this dream, the stomach.

Being construction workers they were whistling and making catcalls to the vitamins as they walked by, like this for example:

Mineral:  Yo momma! You must be one of those SUPER vitamin Cs I’ve heard about because you are looking fine to me.

The female vitamin C strutted her stuff past the minerals, never blinking.  But then this male vitamin C with a cape and tights and a large S on his chest flew down and landed in front of the minerals and in a loud booming voice said to the minerals:

Super C:  No, I am Super C!  (Then his voice got much softer and even had a little lisp to it) And if any of you big strong minerals are interested in seeing more than my “S,” we can bind together after you get off work.

Mineral:  Uh, yeah, well, uh, about that, we minerals pretty much are working 24 hours a day so I guess we’ll pass.

The iron, copper, calcium and magnesium all shook their heads in agreement.  Then a soy derivative ran out from behind them and said:

Soy Derivative:  (shyly)  Actually, I’d like to see your “S” and more, if I could.

Super C grinned and proudly put out his arm which the soy derivative grabbed onto.  The Super C picked him up and they flew off, I have no idea where.  The other minerals shrugged and went back to work.  The potassium was heard to say to no one in particular:

Potassium:  …Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

Anyway, back at the convention, the other vitamins were gathering.  The vitamin D strode up all cocky with designer sunglasses on his face.  Some other vitamins ran up to him for his autograph.  He bragged to some other vitamins as they walked by but didn’t really pay much attention to what he said:

Vitamin D:  I’m the most popular vitamin these days, everyone’s talking about me.

Some vitamin Es were standing by and one of the older, sage looking ones commented:

Vitamin E:  I remember when we were all the rage like that.  It doesn’t last, the press latches onto an idea and that’s all they talk about for a while.  We know we are still one of the most potent and powerful vitamins there are.

The other Es nodded in agreement as they looked on , envious of the vitamin D.

Then a vitamin K showed up.  He was wearing a trench coat and a fedora hat, looking very mysterious.  No one was really paying too much attention to him, I guess, because no one really knew who he was or what he did.

Next a B vitamin showed up and she had a slew of kids with her.  They all ran around like crazy, with so much energy, and there were so many of them that she didn’t even give them names, she called them by numbers.

Some bystander was heard to comment that those kids needed a little Ritalin but a bunch of the other vitamins jumped him and beat him up just for uttering the words.  After all, this was a vitamin convention.

Just then I woke from my dream and raising my head off the vitamin catalog I noticed the pool of droll I had left on it. I looked around as I shook out the cobwebs and thought what a weird dream that was.  Man, I must be taking too many herbs lately.

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This is a great time of year for a sports fan.  Football season has started, baseball is gearing up for the playoffs which segues right into the start of basketball season, which all makes it the busiest time of year for divorce lawyers.

It’s not that all women hate sports, although some do, it’s that they have to compete with sports for their spouse’s attention.  It’s not even that all women refuse to watch sports with their spouse, it’s that the men mostly prefer to watch sports with as little estrogen in the air as possible.

Watching sports is considered a man’s domain because it’s the one place where he can feel like he is never wrong.  Of course, this is because after a play is over he can tell everybody else in the room what the players should have done.

If a woman does claim to be a sports fan there is no option but to be a fan of your spouse’s team.  And if you women are going to be a fan of that team may I also suggest naked cheerleading during commercial breaks.  The exception to that would be if there are other men in the room or if it is the Super Bowl, because then the commercials are really worth watching.

Now that I think of it, being your spouse’s own personal naked cheerleader could lead to halftime sex and for some men even commercial breaks might be long enough.

Some men think of watching sports similar to masturbation, that is, there really is no reason for a woman to be there.  That’s why this naked cheerleading could really catch on because it does give women a purpose for being there, at least from the man’s point of view.

Men have been known to think of a woman who likes sports to be a spy for other women, who they then report back to.  At least we like to think that women are talking about us when they go out to lunch.  And I’m sure they do, they just aren’t saying the stuff we want them to be saying.

The trouble with women watching sports with men is that they ask too many questions and say too many inappropriate things.  Here’s an example:

Woman:  Why do the players with the ball always run to where the other team is?

Man:  They don’t run to them, the other team is chasing them.

Woman: (confused) Oh…Why didn’t he throw the ball to somebody who doesn’t have so many people around him?

Man: (Looks at the woman and shakes his head.)

Woman:  I’m for your team but I really do like the other team’s uniforms better.

Man, again, shakes his head.

(Note:  This is one reason so many college football teams often have loud, unusual uniforms, in hopes of attracting female students to the games.)

Woman:  (During a football game.)  What inning is it?

Man, again, shakes his head.

Woman:  Why do they show the cheerleaders so often?

Man:  (Now that you’ve read this article you can say this.)  I know, I agree!  If only I had my own naked cheerleader.  (If she won’t go for that try for naked waitress, but cheerleading would be the first option because there is jumping, which leads to bouncing.)

Then everybody would be happy, and by everybody I mean the men.

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President Obama’s approval numbers are in and, apparently, just trying to look good instead of being effective is not the way to go.  His approval numbers are at an all time low.  In fact, they are so bad that his only workable strategy he has to win next year’s election is for someone to invent time travel so he can go back in time, reverse the killing of bin Laden and time it to be done  about next September.

Jobs, or lack of them, are the current thing that is bringing him down, but there have been so many others before this.  He had promised to create shovel ready jobs but being in the government he just had the wrong concept of what that is.  His idea of a shovel ready job is people leaning on shovels and doing nothing, which is metaphorically what he is doing as he watches his presidency go by.

Obama has proposed $300 billion to jump start the economy and he is currently filling out the loan papers from the Chinese government, as I write this, so he can borrow the money to get that done.  I suspect though that the Democratic party’s idea of creating jobs is some kind of virtual job where nothing actually ever really gets done.  Now that I think of it, Farmville on Facebook was probably Obama’s attempt at job creation.

Congress has an even lower approval rating than Obama.  Eighty-two percent of the population disapproves of the job that Congress is doing.  To put that in prospective that is about the same kind of disapproval rating that perverts, liars and criminals would get…oh, that makes sense then!

Under The Obama administration the economy has gotten so bad that there is talk of replacing the dollar as the main currency in the world, appropriately, Monopoly money is the currency that they would replace it with.  Further proof of the downfall of the economy is that the tea party can no longer afford tea bags so they’ve just been drinking ice water this summer.  To celebrate the bad approval numbers for Obama they did splurge though and had Kool-aid.

Just this last week one of the president’s speech writers resigned so that he could go into comedy writing, apparently he was tired of writing tragedies.  But to have a little fun before he left and to get him started into the comedy he wrote one last speech for Obama, that unfortunately never got done.  In it he used several quotes, or at least paraphrases, from our past presidents.  The speech would have been done but Obama accidentally gave the paper it was written on to the Fed so they could use it to print more money.  Anyway, this is how it went: (By the way, the writer wasn’t worried if Obama would question it because he just reads whatever the teleprompter says.)

“Four score and seven years ago I did not have sex with that woman, Ms Lewinsky.  What’s really important to note about my years as president is that I am not a crook.  And what we as American’s should do is ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for me.  Furthermore, we have nothing to fear but the fear of losing the next election and you should all know that the buck stops here because we have run out of any more bucks.

“I believe it was Jimmy Carter who said, ‘What the heck, four years of this crap is plenty.’ And in closing (Look thoughtfully into the air like you always do) I’d like to say, it was all Bush’s fault.”

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As I see the back to school specials and parents scurrying through stores getting their children ready for the next nine or ten months of parental vacation, where they can blame the schools for their kid’s screw ups, it makes me hark back to my own youth.  Ah, yes, as I transitioned from goofing off in the summer, unsupervised, to goofing off in school, while being supervised.  It was a definite art and was a major part of my education which enhanced my creativity.  And it helped me become such a gooderest writer that I am today with unik speelin skils.  (If you are reading this after reading some of my older posts and you are thinking, “Hey, buddy, you don’t have to fake the bad grammar and spelling,” you’ll have to take it up with my old teachers.  It’s their fault, they should have made me study harder, or at all.)

Those were simpler times, of course.  Back then a kid only had to worry about getting his lunch money stolen or getting paddled by the teacher in front of the rest of the class.  Now kids have all those worries and so many more, such as, being prepared with birth control in case your teacher wants to have sex with you.

Kids are so much more advanced these days.  Back in my day students never had sex with teachers in high school.  You had to wait until you got to college to hone that skill and even then it was just the female students.   Actually, there weren’t even any teachers at my school, in any grade that I would have been interested in.  Of course, there was that one teacher that used to sneak up behind the kids and do a strategic pinch on their shoulder that would make them squirm in their chair.  Not a sexual kind of squirm, though.  So, I don’t think that would qualify and he only did it to the boys anyway, or as they used to say on the Seinfeld show, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Another tough decision kids have today, that we didn’t have to go through, is choice of weapon.  For example, is a knife sufficient?  Should I carry a gun, or pack, as they say?  How do I get it through the metal detector?  There are so many choices.

I had a distinct advantage back in the day because I played sports in high school.  I would say I was a superstar but there are some of my old high school friends who read these articles and they know better.  Still, I was good enough to make it an advantage.  I was able to get away with more than a lot of kids.  But if the teacher didn’t like sports it became a definite disadvantage.  Then it was like getting chickens to swim and since I went to school, that they cannot swim, is one of the many valuable things I learned there.  I also learned about cosines in algebra, or geometry, one of those classes that vaguely had something to do with math.  Anyway, back to the cosines, since I was very logical I didn’t have to listen when they taught about that because it is obviously just referring to two signs.  Logic is such a great time saver.

There were so many useful things that I learned in school, too many to mention here.  And now that I’ve wrapped up this article I can put to use those valuable goofing off lessons I learned so well back then.

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Sometime over a year ago I wrote an article entitled “Blame it on Testosterone.”  In it I basically justified men’s actions (i.e. stupid stuff we do) on the hormone, testosterone.  While there is some truth to that, I now believe a more accurate statement would be to blame it on estrogen.  Not only do estrogen driven women often drive us crazy in many ways (including horniness…so again, not really our fault) but also many men are becoming estrogen laden themselves by environmental causes.  This can make us fat, lose our sex drive and make us want to stop working, out of the blue, to decorate our office.

Environmental estrogen not only can make us fat it also can cause man boobs, or moobs.  Worse than that, because we have now lost a lot of our sex drive and become lazy, the men who have this dilemma sometimes think that it’s not that bad of a thing.  Now, being lazy and only having a portion of their sex drive left, they find it convenient to have their own boobs, if you get my meaning.

This environmental estrogen comes from numerous sources like hormones fed to animals, particularly in fast food, plastics and many other causes from our modern day world.  This excessive estrogen affects women too.  It’s bad for their health and can make them very cranky, which means it’s also bad for a man’s sanity.  Microwaving plastic especially brings it out so if a woman has leftover fast food and heats it up in a plastic container in the microwave it could make the woman have hot flashes and start yelling at her husband for no reason, while the man, after eating this meal, will want to ignore her and just cuddle up on the couch and watch an episode of Glee.

Too much estrogen in a woman can be a bad thing whether it is natural or from environmental causes.  Here is a quote from the Bible to back up my case:

1 Peter 3:3-4
“Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty that depends on fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should be known for the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.”

This was before God had invented estrogen.  Then he got busy with a little lab experiment.  Frankenstein had not yet been created so he had nothing to compare this estrogen invention to and as a result we now have fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry and beautiful clothes, etc., etc.  Not to mention that when estrogen really flares up in a woman the results can be disastrous for a man.  Does the term “whipped” mean anything to you?

Back to this environmentally created estrogen, the effects on men can be devastating.  These effects can be wide and varying, from decreased size of the gonads and other man organs to an overwhelming desire for show tunes and shopping for shoes.  Just to let you know my testosterone to estrogen level is in good shape I’ll pass on a “manly” joke that I heard on the radio the other day:

Q: What do you say to a naked woman?

A:  Why do you have to say anything?  She’s already naked.  (Ba-dum-bum)

In the interest of full disclosure I have to admit that I am actually a big fan of the TV series Glee.  With that said, I will be going to the doctor tomorrow to have my hormones checked.

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This week our beloved (not so much) guest columnist, Dear Crabby, is back to wreak havoc on the hearts and souls of all the darnfunnyonline readers.  It not that her advice is bad, it is so bad that when you are done reading her advice it makes you not only never want to ask anybody for advice again, it makes you never even want to ask anyone a question.  She is so mean that…

(Dear Crabby interrupts.)  Okay, joke boy. (Also, not so much.)  They get the idea, now go try and write some of that “high brow”, crotch joke humor of yours while I try to salvage some goodness out of this decrepit web site.

As I’m sure I’ve said before, no one really likes her very much, but, with our budget she is as good as it gets.  Try to not be too insulted by this aptly named, mean spirited, generally bad mannered…

(Dear Crabby) SHUT UP ALREADY!… Finally, now that he’s gone, I think I made him cry, by the way, let’s get to the good stuff.  Here’ s the first question:

Dear Crabby:

I have an uncle who is very crude and constantly cusses around my kids.  He makes off color jokes and they ask me what he means when he says these things.  It’s embarrassing.  He smokes and drinks and is an all around bad influence on my children.  What can I do?

Worried Mommy

Dear Worried Mommy:

Job one would be introducing this hunk of man to me.  I haven’t met a real man like him in a long time.  I can’t wait.  Besides that I don’t see the problem, other than you getting over yourself.  It sounds like you are a prude so your kids are never going to learn about the birds and bees from you, so they might as well learn the ropes from your hot uncle’s jokes.

Seriously, I want to meet the guy.

Crabby

Dear Crabby:

I’m thinking of getting some tastefully done tattoos.  My boyfriend doesn’t think it’s a very good idea.  What do you think?

My Body’s a Canvas

Dear My Body’s a Canvas:

What do I think?  I think you are a moron.  Besides that, I’m pissed because you are making me agree with a man, which I don’t normally do (unless he’s a hunk like the uncle from the first letter.)  If you get tattoos what do you think is going to happen when you get to be my age and your skin starts to sag all over and your tattoos look like it rained on water colors!  What I think you should do is stop being so whiny and don’t write to me anymore unless you have a real question or if you have  a hot uncle who smokes drinks, and swears a lot like the first writer did.

Crabby

Dear Crabby:

Now that the football strike is over my husband will be watching football all the time this fall.  I was really hoping the strike would last and there would be no football this year.  Any suggestions on how I get his attention during football season?

Football Widow

Dear Football Widow,

Any activity where I get to see men beat each other’s heads in is good in my book.  Besides that, to get his attention get naked, the game has halftime and timeouts, what’s the problem?

Crabby

There you have it!  When Dear Crabby does her advice column (aka, spews her venom) and there are no bodies as a result that is always a good thing.  Until next time!

darnfunnyonline.com

When my girlfriend is fixing things around the house and the screwdriver and hammer are going rapid fire and I stand around pretending like I know what she is doing, I can at least feel really manly when she  screams and runs away from bugs and I take care of them.  So I am very grateful to all the annoying little insects in and around the house that help restore my manhood.

It’s not that I’m not capable of fixing things around the house I just like to let her feel extra valuable by doing all those things, plus I’m in charge of the bugs, already, so get off my back!  I can’t do everything around the house…Okay, I’m lying.  I don’t really know how to fix things at all, in fact, I can barely tell a Phillips head from Joe’s head.  (But I can at least spell Phillips head and knew not to put the apostrophe in there.  That should be good for something.)

I was careful, above, when I said “I take care of the bugs” and “I’m in charge of them,” for the readers that may be aghast now that I might injure the poor little insects.  Let me say that I do it in the most humane way.  When I see a bug in the house I very carefully and caressingly stun it into submission while I then find it a new home.  Admittedly, I sometimes also give them a new shape and size as determined by the angle that I step on them and the new home is in the trash can but I do try to think nice thoughts as I do it, such as, “Ha-ha, gotcha, you little…”

I like to make their new home in the trash can because if I see the other bugs having a funeral for their friend in there so much the better.   Then it is bonus time for the Bug Man! And I get to add them to my kill …or, ah, I mean, stun total.

I also do other manly chores around the house like washing the dishes, for example.  I get them really clean too, at least in my opinion.  I have heard occasional complaints about food residue being left on the outside of pans.  My theory on that is to let it go; it’s only the outside of the pan for god sake!  The next time the pan is used the food residue will help heat up the pan that much faster, thereby saving energy.  It makes it a very “green” thing to do, especially if the residue is green to start out with.

I also do cleaning around the house but I have to admit I am only good getting at surface dirt that you get in dusting and vacuuming, plus you get to vacuum up an occasional bug, which is really cool!   I think the deeper cleaning should be left to the professionals.  Okay now, if you were thinking I meant the professionals were women then you are the sexist, not me.  Besides that, my hands don’t fit into those rubber gloves very well.  (Yeah I know they have different sizes but let’s keep that between you and me.)

Lest anyone still have any attention on the life span of insects in my house let me assure everyone that no bugs were injured or killed in the writing of this article.  But after I’m done those little critters better run for the hills because I’m feelin’ manly!

darnfunnyonline.com

I went into an Apple store the other day, not as a customer but as more of a tag along.  Not being much of a techie at all it is very unusual for someone like me to be seen in a place like that.  I was as out of place there as John Edwards and Arnold Schwarzenegger would be at a Planned Parenthood meeting .

One thing that did impress me though was the dress code of the workers there.  Except for the Apple logoed shirts they were wearing the type of clothing that you’d see someone typically wear to a picnic.  Since my standard summer wardrobe consists of shirt, shorts and sneakers it made me think, “Hey, maybe I am a geek after all.”  And on top of that it seemed like a lot of the employees were just standing around doing nothing, even though it looked like there were people waiting for service, it made me think, “Hmmm, maybe I do fit in here.”  I thought I could even work at a place like this since I specialize in standing around doing nothing.  It was even my major in college.

I mustered up the courage to ask the manager for a job.  But when he found out that I never owned any Apple made equipment and I think Mac is what you call a guy when you can’t think of his name, the interview got off to a bad start. Then it quickly ended when I realized I didn’t even know how to turn on an Iphone.

That’s okay, I only wanted a paycheck, not a job.  And even though their dress standards were low I get to work at home in my underwear and I think that is even below their standards. (Although, I did see one of them with his underwear outside his clothes.)

When someone finally came up to help us she carried an Iphone.  I was pleasantly surprised when she talked to us rather than texting as we stood face to face.  The question I wanted to ask her is why are all these Apple products prefaced with “I?”  Is it all part of the hedonistic culture that we have emblazoned across the nation and, in fact, the world that is manifested by the geeks that are so afraid to actually communicate that they bury their attention into a machine they can conveniently carry in their hand anywhere they go so they can hide from true human contact with anyone?  But I didn’t ask it because I was too busy laughing to myself about that the guy that was wearing his underwear outside of his clothes.

Then, as we finished, the girl attending to us made us feel as if we got a gift from heaven.  She did a little spin on the pricing that, instead of massively overcharging us only slightly overcharged us, making us feel like we scored a major coup, when it reality it was more like only getting punched in the face as opposed to being mugged and left in the gutter for dead.

Other than all of that it was quite an experience.  But my last question for the Apple people would be if these phones are so damn smart why aren’t they smart enough to teach me how to use one?  (Insert your own joke here about my intelligence or lack thereof.)

darnfunnyonline.com

I think I may have discovered the secret to maintaining ones youth.  I discovered it inadvertently, as many great discoveries are made.  There are still some bugs to be worked out but there is definite potential here.  By stating it here in a copyrighted article I think I am safe from having the idea stolen out from under me.  So here is what happened…I was looking into the mirror in the bathroom the other night before I went to bed and my face was virtually wrinkle-free.  I couldn’t believe how youthful I looked.  It was like I had gotten fifteen years younger.  I looked at my watch to see what time it was but I couldn’t really see because the room was dimly lit.  I don’t know exactly why I looked so good but something happened.

I woke up the next morning very cheerful.  I went into the bathroom to have a gander at my new look and was very disappointed to find that the wrinkles had returned in full force.  And with the sun shining into the window it may have even been worse.

I pondered for a while what could have gone wrong.  I looked so damn good last night.  Then it hit me.  Sleep must be the thing that caused me to revert back to my “old” face.  My first inclination was to take up the night life.  Unfortunately, I was never much of a party animal.  Maybe I could turn into a vampire.  Then I realized I was getting a little too involved with watching True Blood, so I canceled that idea.

Then the next night I thought I’d check out my face in the mirror again.  Same result, no wrinkles.  Then I thought I’d get onto the scale to see if I was losing weight at night too but the light was insufficient to read the scale.  I couldn’t figure it out but I sure looked good at night time.

All brilliant scientists go through trial and error.  I was determined to figure out my nighttime youthful origins.

The next morning, I have to admit I had a little less enthusiasm as I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  True to the previous day my wrinkles had returned.  What was it that made such a difference at night time?  I sure didn’t know, but, I did know if I could figure it out I would be rich.  We all know how vain women can be when it comes to looking younger, unlike us men.  Oh sure.  I know what you women are saying now, “You seem awfully concerned about it yourself.”  It’s strictly for financial gains though.  I’m not vain at all!

(Mental note to self:  Once I discover this secret, that is so far eluding me, make sure to rub it into my male friends who still look old.  I WILL BE THE ENVY OF THEM ALL!)

Like I was saying I’m not at all concerned with my looks.  Anyway, I can’t wait until tonight because I feel like I’m really getting close to the secret.  I think tonight will be the big break through!

Okay, here I go, into the bathroom… YES! My night time youthful glow is back.  Hmm, time for a little more research.  Let me get another mirror and look from another angle.  I can’t find the hand mirror.  Oh, no wonder, it’s dark in here since the one light bulb is burned out.  Okay, I’ll change that.  Much better.  Let me look at my wrinkle-free face again…AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!…Oh Crap! I wonder how long that light bulb was burned out…Never mind.  (Who cares about a few stupid wrinkles, anyway.  Boy, women sure are vain!)

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