Friday, August 18, 2006

Wilford Brimley Speaks Out About Cuddling



Thanks to Benjamin Luckett for this week's question. There were a bunch in the last week or two, and Wilford promises to get to them all. Send along a website link if you have one, and we'll link to you. For everyone else, keep your questions coming to the Malodorous Master of Marriages at pleasedoitmshewitt@yahoo.com.

*******

Dear Wilford,

My wife constantly complains that I don't cuddle enough. I have tried to explain to her that, like Wilford Brimley, I'm a manly man, and I don't have the time or the inclination for that kind of crap. She says it's affecting our ability to be "intimate" and to "express our true emotions for each other". I say she needs to get back in the damn kitchen and finish dinner before she does any more talking.

How do you recommend I deal with this broad?


Sincerely,
Benjamin Luckett



Dear Benjamin Luckett,

Thanks for your God damn question. First of all, you never want to refer to your wife as a broad. She deserves more God damn respect than that. Any woman who's willing to repeatedly let you perform carnal actions on her is worthy of some God damn honor. Call her honey, or sweetie, or even Wilford Brimley. Just don't call her a God damn broad. Do it again and I may have to come over there and box your ears, you God damn young fella'.

Nomen-God-damn-clature aside, I think you have a valid point about the God damn cuddling. I ain't never heard of no marriage based on cuddling, intimacy, or emotions. In my God damn vows, I promised to love, honor, and check the blood sugar levels of my wife until death or diabetic coma do we part. Hell, if on my wedding night I had learned about this cuddling thing you speak of, I probably would have spit out my Quaker Oats oatmeal all over my God damn wife's ass while I was taking her in the Wilford Hole. That's right, I eat oatmeal during sex. It gives me the power I need. You should try it. That's not a request, that's a God damn order.

My suggestion is for you to show your wife who is the God damn man of the house. That doesn't mean you should disrespect her by calling her a broad or other such petty name calling. Alls I'm saying is that after sex you should immediately get out of the God damn bed. Don't waste time with this cuddling or emotions crap. Sex ain't about emotions. Sex is about seed. Your seed. Show her that you are a man with God damn powerful seed. Pull her out of the bed and escort her to the kitchen. Don't let her dress, nor should you either. You should both be in your God damn birthday suits. When you get to the kitchen, stop moving. Point to the kitchen and grunt. Grab your Little Wilfords. Hop up and down and scream like a God damn orangutan. Snort. Grab your Little Wilfords again and point to the kitchen once more. Spit on the ground and beat your chest. Go back to bed.

If that don't help you outta this whole cuddling problem, then I suggest you go and get yourself a new God damn wife. Tell her Wilford Brimley sent you. And make sure she doesn't have The Diabetes. Cuz if she does, then I want her to be my God damn concubine. Get the oatmeal ready.



Pissed Off,
Wilford Brimley


******************

Original JLH petition


Tags: , , , , , ,

Labels: ,

3 Comments:

Blogger Attila The Mom said...

Oh dear Wilford,

I can tell you that it's God Damn obvious that neither you or your wife has ever heard about fellatio.

Well, actually, I mean at least YOU obviously God Damn haven't. Is your lawn mowed with precision care? Do you get a free quart of table cream when the milkman delivers?

Don't confuse it with some God Damn yuppie goat cheese.

That's spelled FETA.

If you had heard of it, you'd give this poor sucker a different answer and be taking every opportunity to give your wife the God Damn "cuddling" she desires.

What God Damn fool would ignore a chance to lay back and get his rocks off with no effort instead of having to assert his "man of the household status" by rolling his 300 hundred pound belly on top for the manly "missionary postiion" and suffocate her while mistakenly attempting to penetrate her belly button with his--koff--"proud" member?

Believe me, Wilford, a little cuddling goes a long way.

Your wife might just be willing to trade the joyless, smothering, sweaty and aimless humping of the crease between her thigh and hip with two short minutes with the pan-pipe and a hot washcloth.

She just might get your "bitchass in the kitchen" making HER some God Damn pie!

Sugarless, of course. ;-)

1:15 AM  
Blogger birdandbuffalo said...

The Wilford Hole? Better go lookin' for that critter tonite. Thanks for the tip-off, dude.

3:45 PM  
Blogger Slinky Redfoot said...

wow - he's gotten worse since we last heard from him. Someone get Wilford his juice!!

10:28 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

eXTReMe Tracker