yin: “Honey? The oil light is coming on in the Land Cruiser again.”
yang: “Uh huh. Well, the plug on the Toyota is underneath the skid plate, so you’re going to need the motorized ratchet set. And when you roll under the truck, make sure you have the emergency brake secured and you aren’t parked on an incline.”
yang: “Oh. And don’t wear anything fancy. Because you’re likely to get covered in axle grease.”
yin:
yang: “What?”
yang: “YOU’VE COME A LONG WAY, BABY! Now hop to it while I throw dinner in the microwave and catch the end of ‘Wheel of Fortune.’”
I hope the couch is comfortable.
TW: because the bedroom door will be closed!
(I can’t believe I get to say this… FIRST!)
Yeah. Right. Like that’s gonna happen.
Hah. I’d be sleeping on the doorstep for saying such things.
TW: you wouldn’t want to be sleeping with the person you made that comment to
A surefire way to ascertain the sincerity of a woman’s feminism: When they are stopped by a traffic cop, do they turn into “Helpless li’l me, officer…”
Turing = family, as in Conservatives believe that women who get butchy with the state patrol are destroying the traditional family.
Yang would be wondering why he doesn’t get laid much at my house.
And people think your wife reads your blog.
Sanity, every woman knows that the way to get out of a traffic ticket is to undo a few buttons on your blouse, and start crying.
Yin: “O.K, and when I’m done I’ll pop down to ‘Pickles’ to throw back a few with the girls.
Boy, how many times in college did I wake up wish that my boxers had a skid plate.
…..or that I hadn’t used my grammer book for a cereal bowl.
(wake up and wish…)
I suppose it’s ironic that I crapped all over a perfectly good skidmark joke.
Yang: “I can drop you off on my way to Hooters.”
After which Yin would be wondering why Yang can’t get it up anymore.
Insanely, every woman knows that the way to get out of a marriage is to undo a few buttons on your blouse, and start crying.
But not always in the same venue.
I checked my handy-dandy Korean-English translator guide and found the definition for Yin. It loosely translates to the english phrase “Hey stupid, did you forget who gots da pussy in this here house?” Incidently Yang is the Korean word for “evidently”.
Word of advice, Dont piss off the one who controls THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE.
Retired Marine,
Best. Advice. Ever. Why don’t men take it?
Because we’re men. And if you’d just accept that, we’d be all set.
tw: Self-preservation? Not especially. Why do you ask?
Melissa,
Even a dumb old Marine learns a few things after being married to the same woman for going on 35 years.
That’s a lot of Boot Camp.
And ya might as wellgo ahead and change the air filter while you’re there!
Wasn’t there a video on Yahoo recently on why men won’t ask for directions?
Oh yeah. That’s why.
Yin: Sure. I’ll just stop by Jiffy Lube. I’ll be back in a few days. [punches up mapquest directions to Vegas on the Treo, checks bankaccount and credit card balances]. Remember, dear, to watch out for the steam when pulling back the plastic on dinner. Steam burns are a bitch.
I’ll bet your wife never reads this blog because if she did you would be sleeping in the Land Cruiser.
When my husband first came to visit me (we were just friends at college), I divided up the household chores evenly.
Except that on his list the last item said, “and all icky jobs.”
And I get to define what’s icky.
Anything car-related (except driving it) is icky.
TW: Win must wiah she has it as good as I do.
oops: wish, not wiah.
New TW: I’m ashamed of myself.
Changing the oil isn’t icky. It’s all about bonding with your vehicle. And drinking beer. (OK, most things are about drinking beer, but still.)
Women. Can’t live with them … pass the beer nuts.
Of course. Almost all of the jobs I do are rated by the amount of beer I need to consume to accomplish the task. For example:
New light bulb in existing ceiling fixture: One beer.
New light fixture in existing wiring: One six pack.
Replace the guttering on the back of the house: One case
and so forth…major projects require a second fridge.
Please tell me that Land Cruiser is an old FJ40 with the top and doors removed.
Take a cold shower, Steve.
TW: came ( no comment )
Sticky B:
Your translation is flawed. Correct is as follows:
Yin: Hey loser, get your flabby ass off the couch and go change my oil.
Yang: Yes dear….but, but, I’m concerned about preserving your feminist bona fides. Perhaps, you should take the car to Jiffy Lube..
Yin: Look dip stick..after the divorce, I’ll have half the money and all the pussy.
Yang: Damn straight. Where’s my tools.
I’m a chick and I change my own oil. I drive down to the fancy carwash, where they change your oil while you sit in the car, then send your car through the fancy carwash. It makes me feel very equal and feminista. I usually blab the whole time on my cell phone to complete the experience. It’s all very zen.
There was a time I would have called that “first base.”
TW: pathetic—hey, who asked ya!?
Exactly! Engine oil change on my truck is a two beer job, unless I’m also changing the fuel filter, which makes it three. You don’t wanna know how many beers it took over a weekend to cut out all the cast iron drain pipe in the house and replace it with ABS…
Major Projects will require an additional fridge.
And if you bring it home and install the icemaker feed yourself, yet another fridge.
So, um……
what are you wearing while you do this?
And PLEASE, don’t spare ANY details.
(I’m such a pig)
All you people who think “yang” is male are just SEXIST!
What am I missing?
I thought “yang” was Andrew Sullivan and “yin” was the beagle.
….not that there’s anything wrong with that.
That’s cool, I think it’s great that she’s willing to help out the “man-chores”. But remember, under no circumstances is she allowed to use the Weber Grill. Or remove the lid when we’re cooking. No matter how she’s dressed.
We need to draw the line somewhere, you know?
Whoa!! Who said grilling is man’s work?! We got a big, bitchin’ combo charcoal smoker/grill (none of that wussy gas crap for us), and I love to cook on it. My husband handles the steaks, chops, ribs, and burgers, but I do the beer-can chicken and turkey, pork shoulders, shrimp, and roasted veggies. We each have our grill talents.
Grilling is what makes this a great country! Somebody hit the button for the national anthem, will ya?
TW: That’s all you need to keep a marriage happy! Well, almost all.
Ladies and gentlemen, a moment of silence, please.
The found of Hooter’s, Hooter himself, died yesterday.
El Condor Pasa…
Will there be, like, a memorial bust?
God, I wish I’d said that.
I feel better now.
All you people who think “yang†is male are just SEXIST!
You know, I misread that. I thought it said “Wang.” My bad.
Jeff,
Woe is me. Sexist! Well I never!
As far as Yin and Yang goes, um Yin is female in Confuscianism. Yang is male. See:
Are you implying that you are passive and feminine? You suddenly got a lot more interesting.
Why would you think I’m yang? PARTICULARLIST!
under no circumstances is she allowed to use the Weber Grill
Oh man….I don’t even let my husband clean the Weber.
Do they make an oil drain pan shaped to conform to a woman’s hip? Would it be more sexist if they do or don’t?
Jeff,
You’re right. You’re right. I am so very sorry for not being more sensitive, you beer-drinking cream-puff. The all caps, twice even, practically shriek yin.
As an aside, I do believe this is the first time I’ve ever been called a particularlist. Still trying to get my bearings.
Is dissent the highest form of particularism, too?
All this for a little sex.
very little.
I’m gonna have to go ogle a waitress in his honor.
The chief clerk at our local convenience store used to be a stripper.
She announced her retirement by having the implants removed. Sensible, I thought.
Regards,
Ric
Clean the Weber? I bought the Weber so I wouldn’t have to clean it. Just fire it up to high for 10 mins to burn the grease off, hit it a lick with the brass brush for luck, and cook.
Hooters? Only for the wings. Mrs D even likes the wings. OK, I like the Fosters on tap, too. I couldn’t say about the shorts that start up here and the t shirts that start down there because I wasn’t looking. OK, I might have glanced, but I wasn’t staring. Unlike some people I could name.
Hey, I’m a chick and I change my own oil on my Taurus! It’s a 10-minute, one-beer job, no problemo. Dudes at garages have in the past sometimes been prone to seriously overtightening both the plug and the filter. Last time I took it out instead of doing it myself, they actually half-stripped the threads on the plug and I had to get my oil pan retapped!