Before I tell you the following story, you need to know that I fully believe that Rowdy sits around with some of his wayward friends and brags about the bullshit he can get me to do. Now, he swears he doesn't, but why else would he make me shimmy into a rusty grain truck, seed scurrying into my clothes, to unroll the top canvas? What other explanation could be given to talking me into shoveling pounds and pounds of mud out of an ancient water tank and then periodically making me attempt to heave the heavy slosh pit above my 8-month pregnant tummy? Rowdy is constantly talking me into ridicules bullshit. What's worse is that I know it is ridicules as I am doing it. What can I say, I'm a devoted wife. Even as I type this, that catchy '60s tune by Jimmy Soul is be-bopping through my mind.
A pretty women makes her husband look small
it very often causes a system fall
As soon as he marrys her then she starts
looking for things that will break his heart
but if you make an ugly women your wife
you'll be happy for the rest of your life
An ugly women will put peals on that
and she'll always give you a piece of that.
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty women your wife
Go for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
Don't let your friends tell you you have no taste
go ahead and marry anyway
Her face is ugly her eyes don't match
take it from me shes a better catch
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty women your wife
Go for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
Dude 1:say man
Dude 2:hey man
Dude 1: I saw your wife the other day
Dude 2: Yeah
Dude 1: Yeah and Shes Ugly
Dude 2: Yeah shes Ugly but she sure can cook baby.
Dude 1: Yeah
Now, you may be wondering why I'm listing a few of the grand gestures I lavishly pour upon Rowdy and, furthermore, why I am printing a catchy classic to explain this. Well, the answer to those questions are quite simple, really. Listen up, fellas. This is valuable and honest and will most assuredly save you a ton of heartache, disappointment and, above freakin' all, money if you heed my warnings.
You can either have a good-looking wife or an accommodating one. You simply can't have it both ways. In vain, you will try to fight that. You will search the world or, in the very least, the local honky tonk, tirelessly to find the shiny bombshell blond who will labor gladly over gourmet meals and pre-set your coffee pot so that you'll have a warm pot brewing before you stumble out of bed and gleefully mow the yard because she thinks it is really her job. Oh, and when she's not freshening up you and your buddies' beer koozies while cheering on your favorite football team, she's busy dreaming up kinky new "bedroom" positions to both limit your physical effort while maximizing your "O" face.
I don't mean to break your heart, guys, but this woman doesn't exist. And before you go emailing me that you've already stumbled upon this Kate Hudson/Jenna Jameson/Martha Stewart mirage, I have three more names for you: Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barack Obama. IF you happen to love one of these guys, chances are you don't like one or more of the others. But, the reason the American people have all at one point or another picked these guys, as different as they are, is campaigning and marketing. And any dolled up broad who is pimping more bling than J. Lo as she's serving homemade buffalo wings to your friends while she whispering her desire to give you a hummer in your ear is simply that. Lying politicians wrap themselves up in the nostalgic images of leaders of old to get elected and high-maintenance women masquerade as a laidback, freaky Betty Crocker until that take that stroll down the aisle. And, with both, once the deals official, all bets are off. The "Contract with America" becomes null and void. And once Barbie has your credit card number, the highway hand jobs and packed lunch boxes are as withered as your wedding bouquet. Then you realize they were merely a ploy to get your money, jack.
The previous paragraph might lead you boys who are living with buyer's remorse over this poorly thought out purchase, so to speak, to believe I am sympathetic to your plight. That is absolutely NOT the case! You could have had a woman who would've gleefully performed these tasks for the rest of your life. After all, each of you had ample opportunity to tie down multiple ladies who are the truly devoted to pleasing their lover. (Calm down, feminists. I am one of you. Devotion isn't the same thing as enslaved. No matter how liberated we are, no matter if we are male or female, we should all be devoted to serving our lover.) But, while some band geek or slightly fleshy debate captain longed for a chance to love you, you competed for the fleeting affection of the glossy-lipped, Prada-clad socialite. Whether you want to admit it or not, you got exactly what you sought.
Personally I believe that men shouldn't marry until they are at least 30 and I will preach this to my sons. So, if you do want to chase the glittery switch of the glamour girls, do it in your "single years." It's like buying a car; it's just fine to test drive a sexy, high octane Ferrari, but when you get out the check book, you better be pulling off the lot with a gas efficient, smooth riding mini van. You might not feel quite as cool when you pull up to the Elks Lodge, but you'll be more comfortable on the cross country journey with a vehicle full of kids.
Now, for those of you who have taken the route of my husband and heeded the caution of this song, I'm sure you are satisfied, in the kitchen, in the bedroom and in whatever bullshit garage or barn you also have her working in. The newest evidence I am presenting to you, my brilliant readers, is the current "experimental treatment" Rowdy and his chiropractor have me dutifully performing on him twice daily. As you may or may not know, about 8 years ago, Rowdy was hauling hay in an International tractor when two semis collided with him. Well, he actually lept out of the tattered ride before the second plowed into the tractor, but he has some back problems as a lingering result of the accident.
Keeping his back in line is a constant challenge for him and, because he is such a devoted provider and servant for my children and me, I consider his well-being in this regard as one of my top priorities. Unlike most men, Rowdy is willing to try non-traditional treatments if it will yield results, so when I made him an appointment for acupuncture last October, he was more than willing to give it a whirl. While this eastern medicine has been by no means a cure all, it has also been the most effective therapy thus far. After the initial three procedures, he now returns about once every three or four weeks for a tune-up regimen, basically.
Like I said, I am generally pretty eager to help him in any way. But two weeks ago when he returned from Dr. Stover's office, handed me a tooth brush and then explained how twice daily I must rub it across his finger nails and toe nails because Doc Stover believed this would keep his back in place, I scoured the house for hidden cameras. THIS HAD TO BE JOKE!
Bewildered, I said, "What choo talkin' 'bout, Willis?"
Rowdy then spilled into his medical mambo jumbo, explaining to his leery lady that each side of your nail cuticles houses pressure points and, when conjoined with his needle therapy, the treatment will be productive longer. If my mom's appendix nightmare hadn't unfolded, I probably would've already called Dr. Stover to question him about this new medical regimen he has me performing on my husband.
I don't think this has anything to do with acupuncture or Rowdy's back. On the contrary, I think Dr. Stover and Rowdy are now competing to see who can get their wife to do the most ridicules bullshit for them. And then somewhere in this sick game, one of them said, "Hey, let's see if you can get Shonda to scrub your hands and feet with a toothbrush two times a day."
I bet Stover's trying to convince his wife Holli of some off the wall nonsense as I type this. After all, the toothbrush "therapy" is going to be hard to beat. But, I'm going right along with it, whether or not its a bet. As absurd and daft as I may look, down on my hands and knees brushing away on Rowdy's "pressure points" like I'm a Vietnamese nail girl, I'm willingly going along for it. If it is a treatment, maybe it will help Rowdy's back throb a little less. And, if it's a competition, which is my guess, maybe Rowdy can take a little cash off his bet with his chiropractor.
Now, the reason I first typed out the Jimmy Soul ballad, then busted the myth about the 3-in-1 wife and lastly documented the latest series of hogwash Rowdy has convinced me to do is this really to further prove that you can either have the gorgeous wife or the good one. Just like you, I know a few real lookers who are very dedicated and self-sacrificing where their men are concerned. But, I think you will find that they still perceive themselves as the geek they blossomed out of after high school. Trust me, boys, low self-esteem is an absolute must when you pick your spouse.
Drinking beer at the local tavern with Rowdy's recently single cousin last December, we listened as he and a few of his other single buddies bitched about their disappointment from all the women they date. Rowdy and I made suggestions of a few unattached local ladies, but they quickly dismissed each one. Apparently, these girls weren't up to their beauty par. After Rowdy explained to his cousin how each of his love affairs will produce the same money-drained result until he re-evaluated his choice in ladies, he wrapped his arms around me and said, "You want to see what the ass of a good woman looks like. Well, here you go."
While some of you might be gasping as though this was horrible, I want you to know I consider this one of the sweetest statements he's ever made about me. Of course I want him to think I am beautiful. I want to feel beautiful. But, far more than that, I want him to see me as the foundation on which his life is built. When his friends bemoan all the accommodations their wives won't make, I LOVE that Rowdy brags about all the star treatment he receives from me. And, you know what, he does, too.
So, just like the song says, IF YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, NEVER MAKE A PRETTY WOMAN YOUR WIFE. GO FOR MY PERSONAL POINT OF VIEW -- GET AN UGLY GIRL TO MARRY YOU!
8 comments:
I must say that I was absolutely stunned at the content of this blog. I can only say that I find it to be one of the most hateful narratives directed from a woman to other women that I have read in a very long time. It saddens me to know that some women feel that any woman who might be a ‘shiny bombshell blond’ or a ‘dolled up broad who is pimping more bling than J. Lo’ must be a money grubbing, lying bitch. Not to mention in your opinion a ‘high-maintenance women masquerades as a laidback, freaky Betty Crocker... take that stroll down the aisle. And....once the deals official, all bets are off...once Barbie has your credit card number, the highway hand jobs and packed lunch boxes are as withered as your wedding bouquet. Then you realize they were merely a ploy to get your money, jack.’
Wow, so any woman who has pride in herself, must be a crappy cook, a liar, a gold digger, and a shitty wife. Those are some big, hateful words to throw around about women, that you know nothing about other then how they look on the outside. I personally find that to be extremely hateful. As a high maintenance wife, whom can cook, does mow the yard, and likes my 'bling' I can guarantee you after years of marriage to my husband who APPRECIATES all the hours at the gym and the time I spend in the bathroom so I can look like a ‘glossy-lipped, Prada-clad socialite’ he does not have 'buyers remorse'; and to all the wonderful women I know in this world who love to dress up, fix up and put on the ‘bling’….you go girls!! Be proud of yourselves, and your husband, children and home will reflect that pride!!
I think husbands and wives should base their marriages not on how their future spouse looks, or if they are ‘high maintenance’ but more on what's on the inside. Your spouse should always be someone that makes you a better person.
I'm sorry that you feel the need to insult other women to make yourself feel better. I also have to wonder what your brides think as you tell them how beautiful they are as you take their wedding pictures...is that a sneaky way of saying they are dolled up liars on the way down the aisle to make their future husbands lives miserable?
I for one will not be back to this blog spot, for if I wanted to hear this type of hatefulness I can simply turn on the news.
P.S. You also may want to look up the correct spelling of blonde when referring to women. According to Webster’s Dictionary your spelled version of ‘blond’ is in reference to men.
Sincerely,
One Proud ‘Freaky Betty Crocker’
First of all, I want to thank you for educating me on the correct way to reference a blonde/blond depending upon gender. I stand completely corrected.
Next, this was meant only as a joke. Read through my other posts. That's just who I am. Beyond that, I think it is a great that you are apparently the holy grail of wives, hitting high marks in all categories. Aside from a few famous and or fictional people, I am the only woman who is referenced by name and I call myself ugly.
As to the brides I photograph, I certainly dolled myself up on my wedding day. Hell, I periodically do now. Not that I really feel like I should validate a blog intended for HUMOR, I have never been to a wedding where I have thought to myself, "Man, he is going to miserable." Truthfully I chuckled at most of your comment because your reaction is as though I wrote it about you. Of course, your comment is anonymous, but I have to assume you aren't Betty Crocker. However, I did think this fell on the crazy side when you tied my brides into something that was clearly for fun and games.
Beyond that, I know many men end up being bad spouses.
I think it is interesting that you wrote that marriage shouldn't be based on looks because that is exactly what I was saying.
Truthfully, I am sorry that my joke about hypothetical women offended you so much. I really, really do. And, to any other readers who had the same sentiments when they read this, I dutifully apologize to you. Though this is the only comment I've received, I've gotten many private messages from people who laughed at this.
One last time, I apologize. I did intend this only as a joke.
@Freaky--Sounds like somebody's a little sensitive. A little more than worried that hubby wishes he had more invested in retirement than your ass? Yeah, I bet. Get over yourself. Oh, and grow a pair-ANONYMOUS-are you serious? If you are mad enough to leave a 5000 line comment on a blog at least leave your first name.
@Shonda--no need to apologize for a hilarious blog...you can never please all of the people all of the time and some just love to get offended.
I agree with Mollie. No need to apologize for writing something that is true. I told you once already and now I will post it publicly so "anonymous" can see that my brother "the handsome military jar-head jock (did I spell all of that right)" has had 3 I repeat 3 miserable marriages because he married his version of a covermodel after several warnings from his happily married, can't stand to wear jewelry, never had a professional pedicure little sister to MARRY AN UGLY WOMAN!! (grammar natzi "anonymous" would probably correct me by saying that I wrote a run-on sentence, too) You didn't mean "Ugly" in the true sense of the word. I understood what you meant. As I was reading her comment, I was imagining how much money she or her proud husband has spent on breast enhancements, spray on tans, manicures, dental vaneers, and tattooed on makeup for his trophy wife. Your husband and mine have financial freedom from the plastic and artificial world. We don't spend our evenings at the gym. We spend them in the kitchen, or the laundry room, or the bathroom scrubbing our happy children from having a day of playing in their own mud instead of some daycare center. She really has an issue. She must be awfully proud of herself. Oh and the highway hand jobs quote was HILARIOUS!
So first of all as you know Shonda I love that song!! Brings back a lot of old memories. Second I would like to say SERIOUSLY!! Anyone who reads this blog can tell that you are obviously joking!! Who wakes up in the morning and says I am gonna be ugly today. Sure everyone doesnt spend hours in the bathroom or gym like our anonymous reader here, but we dont wake up saying man I am gonna be ugly today. It is a freaking joke lady get a life and quit being so insecure that you cant even take a joke.
LMAO...Damn trouble maker...
WOW! I can't believe how you ladies attacked anonymous. I think it is a pretty big leap from what she wrote to the assumption that she has "breast enhancements, spray on tans, manicures, dental vaneers, and tattooed on makeup". Kind of makes me wonder about your own self esteem.
As for you comments about childcare...OMG. Isn't that a wee bit judgemental? Speaking as a wife and mother who recently returned to the workforce for a career that God has called me to(I was not looking for a job nor did I plan to return to work), the implication that staying at home with your children all day is some how better than working outside the home is outrageous. As long as we are each doing what He has called us to that is what is important. For some it is being in the workforce and for others it is being at home and for each of us it might be both at various times in our life.
Sassy,
I admire working moms. Personally, I don't feel like it work for our family. I have several things I do from home, i.e. write for a local paper, take wedding photos, help my husband with cattle, but I respect all mothers. Plus, I think that the term "working mom" is kind of a oxymoron. With the exception of perhaps Mrs. X in The Nanny Diaries, all moms are working moms.
As I said in my comment to anonymous, I found most of her comment funny with the exception of the part where she suggested that in my photography business I am lying if I call a bride beautiful. This is intended as a joke.
Also, the women I referred to in my original post as ugly doesn't necessarily mean they are ugly. I was referring more that the girl who isn't the natural pin-up, who was passed over for knock-outs. This doesn't mean that those of us who aren't super model material don't take care of ourselves. I thought later I should have added that many men experience these same things. I don't know how many good guys I've seen passed over for some good-looking or wealthy jerk. (Disclaimer: That's not to say that all wealthy guys are assholes. It just means that both men and women get overlooked for material reasons.)
OH, and I'm not speaking of anyone who left comments here, but CLEARLY I have low self-esteem. I'll be the first to admit that.
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