Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Groom Knows Dick: No Pants Sunday's

Legendary blogger, Drew Magary, has a blog called "Father Knows Shit". It's pretty much a diary of all the weird and stupid shit that goes on over the course of fatherhood. So I'm sitting around the other day thinking, "I'm getting married soon, I have no idea what's going on, Mrs. Ace will soon be dropping all of these monster bills my way, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing...Groom Knows Dick.

So I was sitting around last night watching a re-run of George Lopez for the fifth time that day, and I was trying to think of what I wanted to blog about today. Out of the blue, commenter Damman's best man speech at G Money's wedding pops into my head. I was still fairly sober at that point in the night, so I managed to retain most of it. I especially liked the part where he talked about how stupid She$ was to marry G$. Okay, those weren't his exact words, but when half of your sentences start out with "I don't know how you deal with" blank, you get the idea.

The one part that truly stuck out to me was when Damman talked about G$'s "No Pants Sunday's."--WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT!-- I don't know exactly how strict G$ is about this policy, does this policy just mean no long pants or does it mean you walk around in your shit stained nut huggers?, but it seems like a winner either way.

You see, I too will be taking the plunge at some point in time within the next year--or so--and I also carry on a Sunday tradition that I am very proud of and don't plan on giving up. No, I don't wake up every morning and pray to a flying spaghetti monster. I don't go over to the grandparents for a Sunday brunch. I don't patrol play grounds looking for lonely little children...Naptown Wolverine? What I do every Sunday is far greater.

Every Sunday I wake up and decide that I am not going to shower. Even if I am covered in vomit, pissed myself while passed out, or fell asleep with my face in the toilet, Sunday is not a day for showering. I don't really know how it came about. I guess in college you just go out and get slammed all weekend and then when Sunday finally rolls around the only movement you feel comfortable making is repositioning your thumb on the channel changer. Honestly, I think my subconscious mind made up this ritual as a way to punish myself for consuming so much alcohol over the weekend that I could hardly function on Sunday's. However, even my own subconscious severely underestimated my laziness and ability to be completely worthless and love every moment of it.

No Pants Sunday is a great idea all on its own, but when you combine it with No Shower Sunday you get a dynamic duo that hasn't been seen since the likes of Andre the Giant and Haku took the WWF Tag Team title back in '89...take that in for a second. Imagine the combination of your sweaty ball sack and beer sweats. Then imagine walking around all day in your Care Bear boxers while allowing your grundle to marinate. Then allow yourself to sit back and watch the ball games all day long. All while being able to scratch your junk and then smelling your hand containing that man must for an entire day. I don't know what you call that, but I call it the American Dream.

I know there are some other Sunday traditions out there. I want to hear about them in the comments.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

As much as I'd like to take credit for the "No Pants Sundays" line, I don't think I said it during the speech. Maybe I did and just don't remember. It's entirely possible as I well on my way to blackout mode at that point.

I am a big fan of sweatpants sundays. They are the most comfortable pants.

-Damman

Mr. Ace said...

Maybe I was already well into blackout mode, but I could have sworn I heard it. Did you say sweatpants sundays during the speech?

Anonymous said...

I'm pretty sure I remember hearing it somewhere too. I think one of the maids of honor must have said it.

-Damman

Anonymous said...

Her sister said it in her speech

rstiles said...

Damman
Did you bang her sister?

Anonymous said...

Stiles, unfortunately no. She failed to be charmed by my jaeger/champagne/beer/vodka cranberry breath or my tall, skinny white guy dance on the dance floor or my air guitar. I don't what she was thinking.

-Damman

GMoney said...

No Pants Sunday is whatever you want it to be. Boxers, mesh shorts, nothing...it all works.

By the way, the first card that we opened on Sunday morning was from Li'l Strut. The first thing I remember reading was "strap-on" and I announced that that card was not to be read.

My fat ass is going snorkeling with what they say are harmless sharks in about an hour. So I guess that I will be dying soon.

Mr. Ace said...

Lil Strut told me what he wrote in your card and I was really hoping it would be read in front of a crowd.

You and your blindingly white skin are getting in the ocean with sharks...you are a dead man.