Now I’ve never claimed to be the smartest man alive, sure I’m in the top three or four, but I’ll never be the intellectual equal of Plato, Albert Einstein or Leonardo da Vinci. The key to may abnormally large IQ, learning, I strive to learn something new everyday. Well this weekend, while perusing the postings of my fellow guest bloggers, I learnt quite a bit.

See it seems the missus and I may have fallen into a bit of a rut too. Now I won’t bore you with the details, lets just say that ever since she hit the eighth month of pregnancy the Trapeze got taken down and the swimming pool filled with puddin’ got tossed.

Well being a man of action and wanting to be outwardly emotional, I figured I’d follow in our Maximum Leader’s footsteps. Only problem there aren’t any Fanilows, to say the least, at the Phish Bowl so I didn’t have any Barry Manilow handy. No problem, I’m a resourceful guy; I just had to dig a bit deeper into my bag of tricks (and iPod toonz list). Well that’s when I came across ole Marvin, now if there’s anybody that can set the mood for some Lovin’ its Marvin Gaye.

That’s were the first problem came up, so to speak. Now as I’m chillin’ and listening to Marvin one of his more popular tracks, Let’s Get It On hit the play list. Damn. I’ve never claimed to be the most stable person and to say I have the attention span of a goldfish would be a gross overstatement, I’m rambling a bit, but what pops into my mind is the scene from towards the end of Nine Months. The scene where Julianne Moore and Huge Grant are fixin’ to get their freak on, she’s in a red silky teddy and about twelve months pregnant, and the baby kicks, he was probably jammin’ to ole Marvin too. So I axed the Marvin idea and dug a bit deeper and pulled out some Al Green, smooth man, just damned smooth.

Well the next key was to don the proper attire. Well reading betwixt the lines of this post I gathered that men sporting Hello Kitty paraphernalia are just damned sexy, so I figured I’d give it a shot, I mean Uncle Eric can’t be wrong. Now the only problem is the missus likes those skimpy drawers, thangs or tongs or thongs I think they’re called, and well to be honest they just didn’t fit right and didn’t show of my manly physique at all. I’m sittin’ there thinkin’, damn phin you’re a puss if won’t at least give it a whirl, so I said to my self, self What Would Velociman Do? Well it was chilly so I grabbed a Hello Kitty night shirt too. Well it did a pretty good job of keepin’ my nips from freezing off, but stopped about mid-belly. I was a purdy sight, let me tell ya.

Then I remembered that no man is completely ready for action without war paint.

So I’m all dolled up and get the candles fired up, ’cause I’m a sensuous kind of guy, and I’m layin’ there holdin’ a rose and I start callin’ to the missus. Finally she can’t ignore my pure animal magnetism any longer, or she had to pee, and she heads toward the bedroom and sees the candles burning.

There I am, with Al Green going, swinging too and fro on the trapeez, the soft light of the candles perfectly illuminating my manliness. Then she notices what I’m wearing, she snaps and starts screaming something about stretching and man boobages and plumbers crack, to be honest I couldn’t hear all of it over my sobbing. I mean, there I was all vulnerable and she just crushed my emotions.

After I’d calmed down I bit I ‘splained to her that I was just following the lead of Eric, Our Maximum Leader, Velociman and Zonker, but no, she wouldn’t believe it. She’s claiming I must have misunderstood something.

Pfftt.

I don’t think she realizes who she’s dealing with or maybe she does.

Fairer sex my ass.