The Razor

Being a guy, I have to shave almost every day. Being a hairy guy, I should shave more than my face but hey, what’s a balding hairy guy to do? Anyways…. Not only do I have to shave my face, I shave my head as well (Ironic isn’t it). Well….my head is a bit sensitive, so I have to go upscale on the razors. Now I use disposables, but they are top of the line. Like ten bucks for an eight pack. Being so dang expensive, I like to use them as long as I can. I would like to have one last about a week. Sounds reasonable but OH NO!

Carri likes to buy these cheap pieces of caca from the Dollar Store. Oh….they have three blades, but I swear, I think they are made by the blind in some sweatshop in a third world country.

Does she use them? Nooooooo. Every freakin time she needs to shave (not often enough), does she get a “Carri” special from under the sink? Nope! She grabs my razor from the counter and uses it! So when I come in to shave……POOF….no razor. I have to dig under the sink….move all the cheap caca boxes out of the way looking for the good stuff!

I swear…right now…there are three (I just got up and counted) “good” razors in the bathtub!!! All rusted up with chunks of hair hangin out of them!!!! She can’t even throw them away!

It’s all good until I run out of good ones. Then I have a dilemma. Do I use one of the new “caca” razors and end up looking like a cast member of the living dead, or do I take a chance of using a “bathtub” razor? Taking the chance of cutting myself and getting lockjaw along with some god awful “chunk o’ hair” bacteria disease!

Well..you probably guessed it. I inspect all the “bathtub” razors and pick out the one that is least likely to kill me!

Why should anyone have to deal with this at 7am in the morning!!!

Well….I know you are all feeling sorry for me right now….but let me tell you. Revenge is sweet! When she’s not looking, and I’m in the shower, I use her loofah to clean my crevices! Ha!

Freakin Razor Stealer!!!

What's that?

I have this pair of cargo shorts that I wear all the time. Really….at least twice a week! They are comfortable, convenient, and talk about the storage space. I came home one day and my wife gives them to me after a day of shopping. I love those shorts! Well..I used to.

Last weekend Carri and I went to the Steve Miller Band concert with another couple. We all got a room at a Hotel close enough to the venue so that there would be no driving involved. While the ladies are getting ready, we all have a few beverages and for all accounts, it looks like it’s gonna be a good time. Well….it’s time to leave the room and head out, so Carri asks me to carry a few of her items…..ID, gum, etc… etc. No problem…..I have my handy dandy cargo shorts on.

We’re walking..walking until we get to the gate. At the gate there is a line for patrons where some “workers” are checking everyone for nuclear bombs or something…no biggie. Well, it’s my turn and the pat down lady (we will call her Pat) asks me to pull my shirt tight around my waist so she can see my waistline. I think she just wanted to check out the sixpack….but whatever. No bombs. Then she asks me if I have anything in the cargo area of my cargo shorts. Ummm…..why yes I do Pat. Then she asks me to press the material of my shorts against my leg so she can see the outline of my...ah hem...items. No problem…..

Pat: What’s that?

Me: My wallet.

Pat: What’s that?

Me: My keys.

Pat: What’s that?

Me: Can of tobacco.

Pat: What’s that?

Me: What?

Pat: That!

Me: I…uhhh…..(looking at her…dumbfounded…stalling)

Pat: What is that sir?

Me: I don't know what you're.......

Pat: That! Right there! (as she puts her hand on it and starts squeezing it)

Me: Hey! It’s a freakin TAMPON lady! But it’s not mine! My wife made me….(smack upside the head)......OUCH!!......(the death stare). Never mind.

Pat: Ok sir…move along! (Big dumb grin on her face)

Stupid Shorts!