MAN LIE! MAN LIE!!

Immediately last week’s Column (Married Men are Pirates) appeared, I received another letter from a legal firm.

Dear Mr Robinson
We represent your wife and, through her, all self-respecting married women. We write regarding your persistent abuse of women.
You described women, especially married women, as ‘exasperating, irritating, vacillating, calculating, agitating, maddening and infuriating hags’. This is defamatory of our client who categorically denies she’s a ‘hag’. Your malicious meaning is contradicted by the attached reports from our client’s cosmetic surgeon, Dr Beau Tochs; her orthopaedic consultant, Dr. Ian (pronounced “Eyean”) Walker; and her beautician, Dyan Bleach.
Our client demands space in the Gleaner to respond to your libellous allegations failing which she’ll immediately terminate your rights to English trifle and all other trifling.
Yours faithfully
Robb, Steele and Plunda, Attorneys-at-law

Per I. Will Steele QC”

I retained my Hong Kong based Jewish lawyers. They replied:

Dear Mr Steele
While our client has no objection to your client’s request, his gift of space is made entirely without admission of liability. Also, her request isn’t granted due to fear of trifle loss.
As your client well knows, ours is no longer able or interested in attempting trifle, if offered, except to be eaten which risks his health. Frankly, he prefers not to trifle with trifle.
Yours Faithfully Wen, Dewey, Fuchem, Freeley and Howe Attorneys-at-Law

Per I. P. Freeley QC
So, on the eve of the 40th renewal of her 39th birthday, I hand you over to The Old Ball and Chain.
“Ladies, once again, I do battle on your behalf. After reading last week’s rubbish, all I can say is Man lie! Man lie!! But those of us who lived through the 1970s already know this.
Let’s begin with this foolishness about Old Grey Balls’ shampoo bottle. I’ve never touched it. The answer to Old G.B’s confusion is either Alzheimers (he forgets how HE put the bottle down) or stubbornly denied blindness (he doesn’t know how he’s put it down). All I can say about him not having time to wash his hair, fly de gate. Let in de pirate.

Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!

Unlike us married women who are better at having to score with only seconds left on the clock than Peyton Manning, Tom Brady and Michael Jordan put together, men are just clumsy and slow. Period.

It’s like his furshlugginer handkerchief. When we’d only one car, I’d drop him at work downtown (after taking two children to different schools). As I reach home, dead tired, the phone’s ringing. He’s forgotten his handkerchief. Would I please bring it for him? Trust me, I’ve owned that parrot for years.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!

He loses handkerchiefs everywhere including while sleeping (forgets where he put it). So, he wakes the entire household at ungodly hours searching the bed before eventually taking a clean one from the dresser. Then, he’s asleep as his head hits the pillow. I’m awake for the duration. Every car park gains one of his (lost) handkerchiefs so, weekly, he uses (oops, loses) about twenty.

I’ll let Elvis sum it up:

You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog
cryin’ all the time.
You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog
cryin’ all the time.
Well, you ain’t never caught a rabbit
you ain’t no friend of mine.

Old G.B. alleges I “rearrange” his life. Lie! Actually, I “arrange” he has a life. Ever seen a man try to hang up trousers? If I don’t “rearrange” it, he’ll leave the house looking like Jose Mujica and guess who’ll be blamed? Me! Everybody’ll say, how’d his wife allow him to leave home like that?

When they said you was high class,
well, that was just a lie.
When they said you was high class,
well, that was just a lie.
You ain’t never caught a rabbit
you ain’t no friend of mine.”

Show-off Old G.B. says I’m to tell you Elvis didn’t record Hound Dog (written by Rock n Roll legends Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller) first. The original was recorded by Willie Mae “Big Mama” Thornton in August 1952 and released on Peacock Records in February 1953. It was Big Mama’s only hit. She also recorded “I Smell a Rat” (covered by Patty Griffin), another exposé of men’s weaknesses, and Old G.B’s favourite (you guessed it) “Ball N Chain” inducted into Rock N Roll’s Hall of Fame despite never making the charts. In the late 1960s, Janis Joplin’s cover did for “Ball N Chain” what Elvis’ did for “Hound Dog”.

Go Big Mama!”

Peace and Love

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