I just spent the most frustrating time on the phone trying to get my husband a haircut appointment.

You can no longer just call and make an appointment.  You must go to the website, sign in, try to remember if you’re already registered or not and which email address you used.

I was denied entry at every point.  When I tried to login, it said my email did not match my password.  When I tried to set up a new account, it said they already had information on that email.

When I finally gave up – he just drove somewhere to find a haircut – there was a text on my phone entitled “Proven DICK growth.” I don’t have one.

I walked in to the living room shortly after all this, and there is an ad for “bent carrot syndrome”.  First of all, I don’t care if a man’s penis is bent, or has stopped growing.  I don’t care if it has grown an ancillary companion.

After the unfruitful phone calls to two different barbers, I started to cry.  As my husband said to me, “Jeanie, you just have to walk away.” 

So, I’m walking away from all this manly stuff and having a stiff – bad term – pleasant drink.

I am posting this now.  I don’t care what the consequences are.  I don’t care if Aunt Rosie or Aunt Marie sees this post.

The End  

PS:  I was worried about the spelling of penises, but it passed the spelling and grammar check.