I called him out! Now where's my toaster? (Now with pics!)

Ok here it is. I’m going to totally out my husband. Not “out” him as in: Welcome to the wonderful flaming world of Z snaps, yoga, dance whistles, and a deeper appreciation of Barbara Streisand. That honor has already been taken by my former husband who we will only refer to as “Powder” (yeah, remember the movie? That was him, only not quite as electrifying. Hmmm issues much?). Anyhoo, back to the good husband and my outing. Once you’ve had the chance to read his blog, Dansclan6.blogspot.com. you will see that he is quite the thinking man; articulate, worldly, conversant, a Thomas Crown type with less money and a Cali/Okie accent, if you will. I told him that I found it funny when I read his blog because he sounds so different to me, he also goes into this mode when he’s on the phone. Truth is that he is a very intelligent man who starts his day with The Drudge Report and web jaunts that sprout from related articles and much like Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, he has another side. A side that is only shown to the privy few who can handle the beast.

You see, I have a theory. My husband was the youngest of 4 children, and I think we all know the role that is bestowed upon the youngest: the role of “test dummy”. You know those childhood ponderings such as: Are six shoelaces tied together strong enough to haul someone up to the tree house in a bucket?; Will your head explode if you mix 7-up with Pop-Rocks and drink it?; Are horse apples actually edible? Will you really see pink and blue spots if you lick a frog‘s back? What would Mom do if someone actually told her that her chicken casserole smelled like dog poo? Just like Mikey on the Life Cereal commercial, it’s the job of the youngest to do the testing for the world. Because of this bravery, devotion , and moronic trust in your older sibling(s), who would NEVER EVER steer you wrong, a few mishaps are bound to happen and coincidentally, a few brain cells are bound to be damaged and/or lost.

This leaves us with Dan’s “other” side. The silly goofy slightly skewed side that can make me laugh so hard I squawk like a pterodactyl while tears roll down my face. This side of him knows every line to Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail and both can, and WILL spew random scenes at you with little to no warning. The side of him that (before back surgery) could do an astounding rendition of Bert’s Pigeon Dance and sings The Beat Farmers’ song “Happy Boy” as if it was written solely for him. This is the side of him that makes me realize that if I was ever actually confined to a rubber room in a straitjacket, I’d want him there with me to help me pass the time by seeing who can bounce the highest off the walls. Although, if he doesn't stop playing/singing that "White Folk Gone Bad song", we may be there a LOT sooner than we thought.

So there you have it. My mild mannered, news reading, politic following, Reagan loving, hubby has a slightly skewed, truly hysterical, pigeon dancing, 80’s video loving, side that I was lucky enough to snag up before anyone could ban it for the betterment of mankind.

Here for your viewing pleasure is my hubby, Dan ..

aka"Sir Not Appearing in this Blog".

See why I love him? Oh and please note that yes, you do see a video of Devo playing in the background.