SomaCow

Can you feel the excitement building, and the wafting odor of chum and rotting fish?

No, it’s not the “Oprah” studio audience. It’s Shark Week!

For those guys who are so unbelievably effeminate that you don’t know what Shark Week is, stop reading my blog, set down your white zinfandel, and go
look up the lyrics to some Enya songs. Fairies.

For those of you who are female, I will explain what Shark Week is, and what it means to a man.

Every summer, the Discovery Channel takes a break from its inane programming of giving trivia quizzes in a taxicab to people who were too stupid to hire
a limo, busting the myth that holding an Alka-Seltzer in your mouth while administering oral sex will make your partner squeal with anything other than
revulsion and pity-laughter, and trying their best to make grimy, illiterate fishermen seem like they are doing something adventurous with their lives
(when, in fact, we all suspect that after being out chasing their deadliest catch for about two weeks with no women, they probably start trying the
Alka-Seltzer thing on each other), and dishes up an actual MANLY series of programs that actual MEN are interested in: the fury of nature’s perfect
predator, the shark, with semi-pornographic voice-overs by Sigourney Weaver.

Why do men love sharks? Because we envy them. They eat the way we wish we could eat. They mate the way we wish we could mate. Then there is the
tiny, rudimentary, prehistoric brain. The sharks wish they had one. Like mine. Sharks are the briny equivalent of ninjas, and you KNOW how men love
ninjas. If you happen to walk into the room while the man in your life is watching Shark Week, and he is grimacing, it isn’t because he is disgusted by
what YOU perceive as a repulsive, gory, frenzy of destruction. It’s because he is practicing making a shark face to use with you later in the bedroom.

Granted, most of the videos shown during Shark Week were shot in the late 1980s and feature men with tufts of gray chest hair that are so long they stick
up out of their wetsuits against their throats, like geriatric chinterbush, but we tolerate that in order to see the sharks, man, the SHARKS!

To guys, sharks represent freedom and rebellion. Sometimes, in a fit of shark-like frustration and rage, I will gnash my teeth, thrash my head wildly from
side to side and make a noise that I think sounds like a shark*. This rarely makes the waitress bring my petite bruschetta appetizer any faster, but it does
usually make my wife agree for us to leave the antique shop/jewelry store/nail salon sooner.

Since women are not so much into sharks, they really don’t understand them. Here are some shark facts to bring you ladies up to speed:

Other fearsome creatures that a shark would beat in a fight:
Bull rhino
Bengal tiger
Ryan Seacrest

Things that a shark would say at a cocktail party:
“wrorrrrragh!”
“blubglupbuhlup”
“Does this Ryan Seacrest taste funny to you?”

Things you could make out of a shark’s extremely rough skin, if you could kill one:
Scary wallet
Ferocious underpants
Truly unpleasant condoms

So, let your man revel during this year’s Shark Week. Let him dream. Let him indulge his inner shark.

Just don’t let him near you with an Alka-Seltzer.

*According to women, it actually sounds like I am choking on bad clams.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 30th, 2009 at 10:44 am and is filed under Cow Flops.You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.