|Dangerspouse Rides Again|
Garage - Track
May. 09, 2015 - 8:52 a.m.
The Hunger Shave
I was going down on NewWifey(tm) last night when she finally had enough.
"That's it" she gasped. "The beard comes off tomorrow"
"I thought you liked the beard" I said. "You're the one who insisted I grow it out."
I like the way it looks" she said. "But it's not worth screaming every time I pee now. "
"Aw, you're just being a drama queen. How bad could it be? C'mon, I really like not having to shave every morning."
Her eyes narrowed. "I'll give you a choice" she said in a flat voice. "Enjoy your carefree life of not shaving, but never tasting pussy again. Or shave."
"I'll get the razor."
Pussy always wins. Always.
So today, just a few hours ago in fact, I gathered up a razor, shave cream, my good kitchen shears, a bowl of hot water, a mirror, and our Shop Vac, and headed to the back porch. The amount of hair I was about to shed would have far exceeded the capacity of any sink in our house, even the big farmer's sink in the basement that can handle a butchered elk.
NewWifey(tm) watched as I placed a chair and the defoliants in the center of a large painter's tarp.
"You know" she said thoughtfully, "I'd like to try something."
Uh-oh. That particular sentence has immediately preceded some of the more memorable misadventures of our marriage. Granted I'm usually the one who says it, but still.
"What?" I asked, cringing before she even began answering.
"I want to sculpt your beard before you take it all off. Just to see what it will look like."
"Is that all?" I said. "You just want to, what, see what I look like in a goatee first, then just a mustache, or maybe mutton chops?"
NewWifey(tm)'s movie mania for the past two years has been the "Hunger Game" series. It's got it all: self assured women with massive racks, a swoon inducing love interest, a love triangle, self assured women with smaller racks, squee-alicious costumes, and -
"Honey, he's wearing a red shirt. You hate red shirts."
"I'd ride him like a toilet seat" she said, her voice rising almost an entire octave.
The entire theater turned and looked at her.
She hasn't stopped obsessing since. We've got Seneca Crane wallpaper on our computer, Seneca Crane wallpaper in our dining room, a Seneca Crane shower curtain, and a Seneca Crane nightlight in the hall that casts a Seneca Crane silhouette on the opposite wall.
So guess what she wanted to trim my beard like?
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
You guessed right. And so she did.
I've gotta admit, as silly as I feel I have to hand it to NewWifey(tm). I mean, she really had her work cut out for her. I don't exactly share Wes Bentley's chiseled DNA after all. But despite that, and despite only having at her disposal a pair of kitchen shears that I normally use to break down chickens, and an old Bic dual blade razor that caused the bloodletting nicks you see there, she made me into a pretty good facsimile of the evil Gamemaker I think.
At least it was good enough for her, anyway.
"I'm gonna fuck Seneca Crane! she said when she stood back and checked her handiwork for the final time.
And so she did.
Now if only she could transform herself into Jennifer Lawrence. At least her rack....