Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Week 4: "Oops!"
I've been wracking my brain for the last few days, trying to think of the perfect post to go with this week's theme. I was gonna write about my erstwhile habit of locking my keys in my car in embarrassing situations, but Charlie has already touched on that subject, hilariously as per usual. So I was sitting around, wracking my brain (oops, already said that!) for the biggest "Oops!" ever associated with my life, and it hit me (not literally, although I'm sure he thought of it long and hard several times): I have an ex-husband! Of course, having an ex-husband means having lots of "oops"-type material, as some of you ex-wives may know. So, I'm gonna pare things down for you and just touch on one facet of the ex--his hound dog.
As all good rednecks know, the worst thing you can do to a redneck is diss his dog. So of course, that's the first aspect of him that came to mind to write about. My ex, whom I'll call Jeff ('cause that's his name), was a mysogynistic, homophobic SOB (that SOB thing is kinda literal, but talking about his mama would really make this post too long). I bring up the "mysogynistic, homophobic" parts of his personality because the two points about said hound dog that I remember most have to do with women-hating and being homosexual.
You see, it became apparent that Pooterhead (that's the dog's name, not the ex's; I already told you HIS name--are you following this?!)--anyway, Pooterhead was a gay dog. All the neighborhood boy dogs were lined up around the block (or so it seemed) to enjoy a good time at Pooterhead's expense. This used to irk Jeff no end. No "real man" should end up with a gay dog, especially one that happened to be half hound and half pit bull, the two most revered breeds known to the redneck male. Of course, having actually finished more than one semester of college myself--can you say "Meeeeooowww!"--I knew that the whole gay thing was really a dominance thing, with Pooterhead apparently being on the lowest rung of the status ladder in our neighborhood. I think that might have been almost as bad as being gay, in Jeff's eyes. Of course, I played up the whole gay thing for the whole three years we were married, just to get my jabs in. Hey, I made a good candidate for ex-wife in those days!
On to the "mysogynist" part: Pooterhead, like most young dogs, liked to chew. Unlike a lot of young dogs, however, Pooterhead didn't settle for chewing his master's shoes or the remote control or any of that. Pooterhead liked to chew my underwear. My clean just-out-of-the-dryer underwear. My expensive, more-like-lingerie underwear. And he limited himself to destroying the crotch of virtually every pair I owned. Now, I know that crotchless undies are considered the tres-sexy thing to own, but if I'd wanted them, I'd've bought them that way! Upon confronting Jeff with the evidence and even letting him know how this would soon impact our budget, he just laughed. Laughed! I think you can see now why he is my ex-husband.
Ladies (and gentlemen), I hope you have enjoyed this little glimpse into life with a redneck man. Be forewarned, if you are dating a man who owns a dog that likes to sleep with his head stuck up under the wood stove (!), turn and run, as far and as fast as you can. It bodes no good, none at all.
Hi, I'm Debi. Once in a while I have a thought and I like to write it down before it goes away. This is where I write it.
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