Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday! Did you ever wonder where Iâd be if there was no Harriet Carter? No joke, when Harriet finally kicks I hope they televise the funeral like they did with Ted Kennedy and years from now people will say, âYou always remember exactly where you were when you heard that Harriet Carter died.â I mean, I wish her nothing but good health and another 100 years to live on this glorious earth but, well, if I donât start planning the funeral now who else will? Moving on. This week Harriet continues to confuse me with horse themed t-shirts that may also be insults and provides us with the answer to the age old question, âWhat do you get the man who has everything?â Letâs go!
Product # 1 â Does your wife barely fit into a Hanes Husky? Does she like wearing skid-marks brown? Does she happen to have an odd obsession with âthe horses?â Well if you answered, âI wish my wife would leave meâ then does Harriet have the latest fashion trend fresh off the runway of Milan for you! Oh, and by ârunwayâ I actually mean ârunway.â You know, like what the workers wear at the airport? Yeah that. This sh*t brown, possibly highly flammable t-shirt, says, âA Woman Only Needs 2 Animals â the Horse of Her Dreams and a Jackass to Pay For It!â What does that even mean? So youâre suggesting she wants a horse and then some a-hole to pay for it? Are we on the same page? Who the F wants a horse? And for what? These are the same people who buy Marie Osmondâs dolls, arenât they? Anyway this pointless-waste-of-money-t-shirt will really elegantly show off your âwifeâsâ back rolls and, more than likely, visible FUPA. And you know this sh*t shrinks into a âpetiteâ after the first wash and dry. The neck will stretch and get that yellowy-gray color around the inside of the collar and under the arms will start to turn white because, after all, if youâre wife is wearing this Iâll just assume she works on a farm and sweats like a wildebeest. Oh, and Iâm sure her âdownstairs areaâ is a complete and total mess. Like weed wacker mess. I know that has nothing to do with the actual t-shirt, but Iâm trying to paint a picture here people. Who loves horses this much? Why? Who? What? When? Where. Sometimes ây.â I donât understand but, sadly, the butch who wears this definitely will understand it. Not only will they understand it, but theyâll probably tear up when they unwrap it. And you can take âtear upâ any which way you like. Iâm thinking of two places. You can guess which ones.
Product # 2 â Ever wonder what to get âthe man who has everything?â Well if heâs missing his hand or just happens to run the photo department at Walgreenâs heâs definitely going to need a silver-plated ball scratcher. Yes, scratcher. Letâs face it, when you have an itch down near Mr. Winky Claus, who needs to scratch it right away? Animals, maybe, but not real men. No, no. Real men will take the time to go into their desk, open the box (giggity), take out the silver-plated hand and then start scratching away like a dog with fleas. All of his co-workers will be squealing with delight when they see this action take place. People will be saying things like, âBob! You must be doing well if you can afford to buy a tool to itch your testicles!â And heâll reply by simply saying, âYes, I am doing well. Not only do I have a tool to do the scratchinâ, but I also just bought a KIA with air-conditioning AND power locks.â Ooo la la! So donât just use this to comb your âfront lawnâ but also feel free to use it to âde-thatchâ the back lawn too. I, of course, am talking about picking your wedge. Was that not clear? I should stop speaking in code and just put it out there. Thanks, Harriet, for classing up my ball scratching. I feel like royalty!
Well that concludes another Harriet Carter Wednesday. Spread the word!