h2>Dating : Long Live Boob Men.
A neighbor down the street hates me with every cell of his being. I’m lost as to why since maybe 15 words have been spoken between us over the 8 years or so of habitating in close proximity. As the fellow in question is married, please know: I do not converse with married men (ever) as a general rule other than in a business capacity. Never once has a conversation with this person been initiated on my part. A few times in passing I have complimented both he and his wife on their lovely flowers growing alongside the sidewalk outside of the townhome they rent. Their house sits on a busy and very nice street in a wonderful neighborhood full of happy, friendly and in no way rude or inappropriate people. His unique, vocal outbursts are practically Tourette’s in nature and makes one wonder if perhaps his meds need to be adjusted.
The loathing toward me on his part has been uncontrollable at times to the point of once having set his growling and snapping dog loose as I sauntered up a public sidewalk then laughed maliciously when politely asked to leash the poor, pawn of a beast and to please bring it under control. His sarcastic reply of “Oh, I thought you liked dogs?” did stoke the indwelling “Karen” that sleeps inside of all of us and animal control was promptly called, followed by a ticket being issued to Mr. Douche de Jour. This act of self defense on my part would (of course) have future ramifications: The next time El Douche-Asourus-Rex glimpsed me in passing as I stealthily strolled along the other side of the street, he screamed loudly: “Blow me Stormy, blow me!”
Such a charming greeting happened in the bright light of day near a park, no less, where children play and occurred only steps away from where he and his wife’s giant Buddha statue sits in their front yard, virtue signaling to all the world their pure and spiritual intentions. Perhaps he stuffed Buddha’s ears with cotton wool prior to his expletives? Is “Blow me!” a strange, new mantra being taught at nearby whack-a-doodle- U: Naropa University, alongside Negotiating Polyamory 101 and Living a Spiritual Life With Multiple Venereal Diseases 103? Who knows, all we do know for certain is that this angry, unhappy, beta-male Douche Bag of a fake Buddhist-slash-sorry excuse for a Y chromosome is certainly not a Boob Man. Without a doubt.
Boob Men love women. They do. Boob men are nice, sweet, loving and kind. Their lives work, their relationships work and they and their Boob Woman spouses are happy. Boob Men empower women to feel feminine and sweet. Boobs work for everyone. Nothing feels better than being loved and cherished by a Boob Man, except of course loving your Boob Man with your Boobs, often as well as frequently. This thought occurred not because I was worried and or wondering about Monsieur le Douche down the street, oh no, but because I was designing a pool house. Let me explain…
Having a deep, profound and never ending love for Swiss Chalet architecture and while searching for a new home, I thought about designing and building my own in the Swiss Chalet style. Finally I found some farmable farmland with a forest on one side, not too far from the ocean and that has a sweet little contemporary home on it surrounded by French style gardens, which will in time become the guest house. What it does not have is a pool so I began designing the pool area immediately and thought: “I will have to build a little house for the pool machinery and equipment.” This little house turned into my dream home of a 4200 sq. ft. Swiss Chalet style cottage with one, massive, master bedroom, a huge laundry room (because doing laundry gives me purpose), a fabulous vaulted ceiling living area that flows seamlessly into the majestic kitchen with a small, glass orchid house on one side… and a tower. I have always wanted a tower.
Once the laundry and half bath with pool access were designed along with the kitchen, living and music rooms (in that order of importance), all that needed to be added to the floor plans were the the upstairs master bedroom, the master bath, ginormous walk in closet and last but certainly not least…the office. The office would be on the east side of the house accessible via stairs from the living room foyer and have its own sun deck connected to the second floor of the tower, which is to be constructed in the South East corner of the chalet. The pool is on the North side of the “Pool house” and faces east lengthwise and the office will have an East-South orientation. I was trying to figure out if I should put a half bath in the office and thought: “Why yes, because your husband will need his own place to poop.” This is true so I designed him a 5′ by 7’5″, half-bath facing east with a lovely huge window and a bit of stained glass so he can open the window and stink up his gorgeous throne room to his heart’s content.
Since the half-bath-slash-poop-room for my future husband will go beside the safe room, I started to think about whether or not I wanted him to keep a gun or guns there. Then I thought NO, because I do not want guns in my house. Since we will both have our own houses as we are of the age where we do have our own homes and since we are likely to and will divide our time between them, he can keep his guns at his house. I’m open to a pellet gun for snakes and birds but that’s it. I just do not want a gun in this house, which indeed will be our home (other than on the pre-nup where it goes in its entirety to my heirs). As I gave the gun thought some more consideration, I began giving other qualities in a man a quick run through. The second thought after NO Guns was: “He must be a Boob Man.” Must.
Boob men are powerful beasts, and as I am a Booby Woman who needs a Boob Man with a high degree of testosterone coupled with an appreciation for orchids and puppies or rather baby animals of all sorts… even the kind we eat, I figured why not get clear on things? Boob Men enjoy lying on the couch on weekends picking their nose while watching television and waiting to be fed. Boob Men put Boob Women First along with their family and are low sensory home bodies. Why should they leave the house? Everything they need is there: TV, food and Boobs. All of these thoughts were so fun, I actually became excited about dating again…just a little, not very much mind you and will not do so until after the house is completed because I must have a Farrow and Ball Brassica purple painted Laundry room…and no one will stop me.
Instead of worrying about why Negative-Soy-Boy-wanna-be fake-Buddhist down the street hates me, I pivoted into designing a new home far, far away from the liberal negativity and madness. Creating a half bath for my future husband to poop in made me think about how much I appreciate Boob Men. All of this felt good. Why argue with a NO? Let the crazies turn and twist with their mixed feelings and sad hatred of things not like unto themselves. Stick with what you know. I know Boobs, red meat, growing orchids, brushing horses, puppies, designing pool houses and Boob Men.
Everything is right in the world.
