To restore the balance, I figured I would have to butch up my ride home. I liberated a cigar I had left in the Volvo. When 5pm came, quittin time, I climbed into my big ass truck and fired up the 6.2 liter diesel V8, threw my leather jacket on the seat next to me, lit up my stogie, and drove off.
It was very manly. I think I get back man points just for writing that sentence. To get more manly, I would have to get Lee Marvin* riding shotgun or something.
*Yes, I am aware Lee Marvin is dead. One could substitute some other manly guy, like say Clint Eastwood; but Lee Marvin is the icon of manly. Long before he starred in The Dirty Dozen (the manliest movie of all time), he was a Marine and fought in the battle for Saipan. Manlier credentials simply don't exist.
5 comments:
At least you don't drive a minivan. That is my biggest fear if I start a family that I will give up driving a cool car and just drive the dreaded m-van.
I like spongebob. He's cute.
Manliness in a Volvo? Whatever makes you sleep at night.
It is damn cool that you smoked a stogie in it. I would take the scenario a step further:
"I was smoking a cigar in my volvo while a stripper was performing in the backseat as I was karate chopping hippy pedestrians laughing at the fact that I'm wearing no pants."
I wasn't smoking the stogie in the Volvo. I was smoking that in the Suburban. I just drove the Volvo briefly at lunch time.
Yea geez wiwille keep up.
.. yah what wiwille said and that I would be wiping blood out of my eye between the laughs because of the fight I had with the 300lb linebacker (and won) because he said something about my momma and I had to make him cry like a little girl in front of all his other linebacker friends.
Hoo-Aah!
..Actually that still wouldn't work in a Volvo. Just doesn't work without cherry red paint and at least 200 horsepower under the hood and heavy metal, rolling thunder, Pulse throbbing, engine guttural, raw power pumping out the exhaust pipes.
Course I haven’t experienced that since driving a Vett that got like 18 miles to the gallon.
But then I also didn’t have that feeling since the car-repo days.
Face it Mattbear, we are married, kids, you got the picket fence, Volvo, dog, I got a Saturn with almost 40 MPG which screams (minimal horse power) and answer to my wife at the store with. “Hon, what do you think of this?” as I sheepishly hold up a MP3 player for 36 bucks hoping she approves. Because she somehow established Veto power over my ability to function independently as a man.
The good news is, we still got Halo-2, and a warthog mounted with a mini-gun. (excuse me as I wipe this tear from my eye, machines with mounted heavy weapons are a beautiful thing, pulls at the ole heart strings.)
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