Ladies…read and heed!
SportsCenter starts at 11:00 PM and runs an hour. This is a great time to pay bills, put laundry in the dryer or talk to your sister.
Two hot dogs and a beer at a baseball game DO, in fact, constitute going out to dinner.
If we see you in the morning and at night, why call us at work? You probably don’t want to know what we’re thinking about. Silence does not need to be filled with discussions about “us” and “the relationship.” We don’t know anything about handbags. Don’t even ask. We DID water the plants. They died anyway. Nobody knows why this happens. Sports Illustrated is a better magazine than Cosmopolitan. Just accept that. No, you can’t have the remote control.
Unless you are willing to follow the careers of Mo Vaughn, Cal Ripken, David Robinson, Michael Jordan, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Chris Farley, don’t expect us to know what Helen Gurley Brown, Hilary Clinton, Naomi Wolf or your mother are up to.
Sex on a weeknight is generally welcome. Three hours of post-coital conversation is not.
Check your oil. Foreign films are best left to foreigners. Nothing says “I love you” like sex in the morning. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor. Yes and no are perfectly acceptable answers. Share the closet. Share the bathroom.
Your brother is an idiot. Crying is blackmail. Use it if you must, but don’t expect us to like it. You have too many shoes. You have enough clothes. Anything you wear is fine. Really.
Sunday = sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be. Dogs are better than cats. Get rid of your cat. And no, it’s not different, its just like every other cat. Don’t make us guess. Don’t cut your hair. Ever. Learn to work the toilet seat; if it’s up, put it down.