Suffice it to say that a good time was had by all during the festivities this weekend to commemorate the end of the carefree, shirtless, block of cheese eating days of bachelorhood for JB Doubtless. The appropriate sacrifices were made to appease Bacchus (or Dionysus as Saint Paul prefers). Great issues of the day were discussed. No farm animals were injured during the production (although I think Atomizer is still a little sore today). And most importantly, the cardinal (and really only) rule of bachelor parties was observed: we brought the would-be groom back alive.
In fact, it was the best man who came the closest to slipping this mortal coil when an errant tee shot off the driver of JB came way too close for comfort. If there was any doubt that being hit by said drive could have proved life threatening, it was quickly dispelled when JB took a mulligan and drilled his next drive in almost exactly the same place, this time nailing a golf cart hard enough to dent one of the steel roof supports. It's a bit disquieting to think what might have happened had one of his drives made contact with less resistant material. My head, for instance.
The already married among us also took the opportunity to advise JB on the keys to a successful marriage. The most important being to always remember that marriage is not a battle. No, it's more like a war. A long, hard slog that you have no hope of ever winning, but most definitely can lose. The best strategy to pursue is one of containment. Clearly demarcate your areas of influence early on and zealously resist any intrusion upon them.
This approach is more than figurative when it comes to the home front. The garage is clearly your base of operations and, in worst cases, your last refuge. It must be held at all costs. Lose the garage and you might as well start watching Oprah and talking about your feelings because it's over. Never yield an inch of the garage.
Your second bastion of freedom should be the basement. When you first move in to a house together, you should stake a claim to as much of the basement as possible. I'm not talking about the laundry room or storage spaces. I'm talking a shop, a place to watch sports, and, if you can manage it, a bar. Within the house itself, the basement bar will become your fortress. It's not always possible to control the entire basement, but it should definitely be considered your sphere of influence.
The rest of the house? Other than an office, you're probably not going to be much of a factor. You can pretty much write off bedrooms, bathrooms, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, and any other space above ground. If you can score an office of your own (or even better a den) it would be a major coup. More likely, you'll have to compromise somewhat here and settle for joint control of any office space.
But just because you've ceded most of these areas, doesn't mean that you should ignore them completely. It's a good idea to occasionally make a feint to draw your wife's attention and distract her from other activities (like your plan for the dish on the garage). "Honey, I was thinking that the wall in the living room is looking a little empty. What about hanging up that great poster from the movie 'Jackass'?" This gambit will be even more effective if you approach your wife with hammer and framed poster already in hand. It's obvious your suggestion has about as much chance of becoming reality as Chuck Hagel winning the GOP endorsement for president, but sometimes the battles that you lose are as important as the ones you win.
Armed with this knowledge, and may other pearls of wisdom offered by the assembled crowd, the road to marital bliss should now be clear for JB.
Of course there was much more than just matrimonial musings going on. The Nihilist In Golf Pants has already ably documented the Top 11 Debate Issues This Past Weekend. (By the way, it's nice to see that Hugh has finally noticed the fine work being done at Nihilist In Golf Pants by the Nihilist and his loyal sidekick, Sisyphus. NIGP is one of the many "Fraters inspired" blogs out there--we prefer to call them "Spawn of Fraters"--and is probably the second funniest among them next to this guy.) With one notable exception.
Inspired by an in-depth expose in Star Magazine that offered various theories on Why Jessica's Butt Has Gone Flat, we did indeed have lengthy and animated discussions on that burning issue of the day. This talk invariably lead us to evaluate the talents of Jessica Simpson in the role of Daisy Duke compared to Catherine Bach, the original Daisy from the TV series. Since we were not able to resolve the matter ourselves over the weekend, we now turn to you. Catherine Bach (in her prime) versus Jessica Simpson (in her pre-flat butt days)? We report (based on what we read in Star Magazine), you decide (by voting in our poll).
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