Or should I say "this shaves ass."
Just say it. You're too frigging hairy. Down there.
Norelco to the rescue.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
I officially rate as a cool dad (by my estimation only). I say this because I have a small drum set taking up the middle of my living room. And my son can beat the living shit out of it, let me tell you. He looks like Tommy Lee up there, tongue hanging out, head nodding, playing sixteenth notes on the cymbal and then jabbing his drum sticks at the sky and shouting "Good Night Cleveland" like his uncle taught him to. This is brilliant for everyone related to him, and horrifying for anyone who lives within a 1/4 mile of our house (which doesn't have a single rug in it yet, so every snare hit reverberates throughout the house like a pistol shot.) The dog has found a thousand places to hide when all this is going on. Between the drums, Texas thunderstorms, and the occasional beer bottle going into our recycling bin, I think the dog is going to have a nervous breakdown by June.