Single Guy vs. Married Guy, Part 2

At 9:16pm, my AOL Instant Messenger popped up with a message from a friend of mine. To protect his identity, I’m calling him “Sherlock.” (He believes that “women are mysterious puzzles to be solved.”) Sherlock is single, successful, influential, entrepreneurial, and – did I mention single? (He recently started a Twitter account a day ago, too: @IamSherlockSays) We met many years ago through a mutual friend while in Vegas at a bachelor party. The moment I realized I liked him was when I saw him keep his cool while ordering room service as we slowly raised the volume on the pornographic movie that was playing in the background. By the end of the call, the television was so loud (and we were laughing so hard) that the concierge probably thought we were having fun killing a hooker. Sherlock wasn’t even fazed.

Sherlock and I still stay in touch, but not often enough. He’s been a real friend through the good times and the bad. And, he is also that bastard friend who likes to remind me how good life can be when you’re single with no kids.

Sherlock: “Where you been all day?”

Me:  “Hell. You?”

Sherlock: “Can I send you a picture? It will help!”

Me: “Sure. I’m just here working.”

The next thing that appeared on my computer screen was an attachment. As I waited for it to open, he sent another note:

Sherlock: “This is what I woke up to this morning.”

All of a sudden, my work disappeared, and one of the most amazing breasts I’ve ever seen appeared on my laptop. It was damn near perfect. I don’t know if it was a gift from god or man-made and I did not care.

Me: “Ok, Explain.”

Sherlock: “She’s a friend.”

Me: “I have lots of friends. None of them show me their tits.”

He then proceeded to tell me how they met, what they did, and when she left. It’s at that moment that I truly realized how different our lives were. He is single and able to mingle! I am married, with kids. I love my wife and I would never do anything to mess that up. But, I’m also a guy…in Hollywood…where each woman is more beautiful than the last. There is temptation everywhere. But, I will never cave to the temptation because I cherish my wife and I like my stuff too much. I live by the golden rule – “It’s cheaper to keep ‘er.”

Me: “Jeez. Our lives are very different. You woke up to a beautiful breast and I woke up to shit in a diaper. Very…brown…shit…. in a diaper!!”

Sherlock: “Did I mention that I made her so excited that she soaked through the sheets?”

Me: “Did I mention that I made two children pop out of my wife?”

Another attachment appeared, this one was of a beautiful woman cupping her breasts in a seductive pose lying on a bed.

Me: “Again, Explain!”

Sherlock: “A friend of mine from two months ago who posed for me.”

And then another attachment appeared. Same girl, full length shot, very naked.

Sherlock: “She’s a great little Jewish girl from the OC”

Me: “Um….Jewish girls don’t do stuff like this. I should know. I married one.”

And then a fourth attachment appeared. It looked like a sunset. I looked closer. I was wrong. It was not a sunset.

Sherlock: “She sent me this one as a ‘don’t forget about me’ shot.”

Me: “You are a bastard.”

Sherlock: “I figured you can use a little photographic happiness this week. I’m gonna go. The show is going to start in a few moments.”

Me: “What show? Where are you?”

Sherlock: “Oh, didn’t I tell you? At a friend’s showcase on the Westside now. Going to watch her gyrate! Talk tomorrow. Lolol.”

And with that, he was gone.

I’ll admit it. I was a little jealous…but, not for the reasons you might imagine. I was pissed because I was missing the age of dating when technology became a crucial aspect of courtship. When I was dating and I wanted to see a naked girl, she had to be right in front of me. Today, girls can send naked pictures of themselves to guys as just a tease!! It’s not fair!!

There is an upside to all of this. By the time Justin and Garrett become interested in girls, the technology should be so advanced that girls will be sending them full length holograms of themselves!

The Real Lord of the Flies

As you can see, Garrett is a natural born leader. Here he is at daycare, ruling over his minions. He has a commanding presence no one can ignore. Garrett is an infant among infants!

Little girls want to be near him and little boys want to be him! He is a fair and compassionate leader, yet firm (under all the “pudgy” baby fat) when it comes to demanding attention. Those of us who have studied Garrett’s leadership techniques still marvel at how effective the art of slamming our feet down repeatedly will motivate others to do our bidding.

His best selling book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People…into Changing Your Diaper” has outsold the Bible. Whether it’s drool from his mouth or poop from his butt, Garrett is always producing.

All hail Garrett!

“Limos, Demos, and Bimbos”

Ice Cube once wrote a song about how good it was to ride in a limo with his “female friends” and how they “hit the sunroof and contemplate all the freaks they can run through.” Whenever I think of limousines, I think of one of two things: 1) Prom night with drunk girls half-naked in a limo, or 2) Rappers in a music video….with drunk girls half-naked in a limo. What I NEVER thought I would witness was my six month old and my five year old chillin’ in a limo on the way to the airport.

On a recent trip to Atlanta, Greatest Wife Ever and I contemplated how to get two adults, two children, luggage, carry-ons, toys, and a stroller into one car. Realizing that this was impossible, we discussed taking two cars to The Parking Spot (a local parking structure) instead. However, after further financial analysis, we realized – it was going to be pretty damn expensive to keep two cars stored for 5 days! All of a sudden, one of us (can’t remember who) had the genius idea of hiring a van to take us to the airport. What a fantastic idea?!?! Lots of space in a van, no parking hassle, and neither of us had to drive. GWE called a service, set it up, and I never thought twice about it.

On the day of the flight, the driver called and notified us that he had arrived. Justin and I stepped outside first to meet him. We were greeted by a shiny, black, stretched limo. Justin’s eyes got wide and he whispered to himself, “coooool.” As it turns out, their SUV was not available – but their “Get-You-Pregnant-On-Prom-Night” Limo was!

My first task was to figure out how to strap in an infant’s car seat. I guarantee I am the first person in history to attempt this. Limos are not meant for infant carriers. I got “creative” with the seatbelt, but I’m fairly certain that any unexpected braking would have caused Garrett and his carrier to go tumbling down the aisle of the limo like they were the rock boulder in the beginning of “Indiana Jones.” Next, I loaded three pieces of luggage, two carry–ons, and a stroller. Finally, I buckled Justin into his seat and GWE and I settled in.

Justin could not contain his excitement during the ride. With a distance of 5 ½ feet between us and GWE in the middle, Justin and I pretended to do magic tricks for each other. Then, we “yelled” all the way down the car to one another. And finally, we pretended to shoot guns at each other. As we pulled up to the airport, Justin unstrapped himself and began to do the “Shaking Butt Dance” out of happiness! He then ran down the aisle and pounced on us.

I hope Justin and Garrett enjoyed their limo ride. I’m just afraid that we’re setting the bar at an unreachable level. What’s next for them?

I’m putting my foot down. No private jets until they are old enough to wipe their own asses!!