The patented “Butt Clutch.”
Let me explain…
Things never cease to amaze me.
Like: How I’ve managed to stay out of sexual harassment lawsuits.
You see…there are two Rodney’s.
The first Rodney is “Home Rodney.”
3) Swears only when it’s absolutely necessary
(i.e., like if I drop a Cheeto on the floor or something: “DAMN YOU, YOU F*CKING SH*TEATING CHEETOS..I HATE YOU!!!…I HATE YOU ALL!!!”)
4) Only watches porno when the wife is gone (this is newly revealed information to wife…when masturbation became a requirement for my vasectomy)
5) Only whacks his pee-pee when the wife is gone or is sleeping (also, see #4) or is in the shower (or garage, shed, porta-potty at a concert, etc., etc…you know…”private time”)
6) Tries not to offend the wife
Sounds nice, eh, ladies?
This takes nothing away from my beautiful wife, who is by all accounts an excellent mother, baker, hottie and virtual domestic goddess.
I’m just saying that:
I’m better than most men.
…or completely domesticated.
…or gay and haven’t fully realized it yet (I DO like musicals!)
It’s one of those three.
Anyway…that’s “Home Rodney.”
…there’s “Work Rodney.”
1) Specializes in “Sexual Innuendo” (Ha! It sounds like “In You End-oh”)
2) Swears a LOT
3) Knows all the good sites for Lindsay Lohan/Britney Spears and the High School Musical chick photos (shout out here to my friend “Bill” for sharing)
4) Gives friends the finger for absolutely no reason (i.e., “Hey Bill…good morning!” – gives Bill the bird – “By the way…F*CK YOU.”)
5) Has ongoing humorous “wife” attacks with his friends.
My buddy Rob talks with his mouth full.
Mimicking him, I say: “Mmmmffmmmffff”
Rob: “Yeah…that’s what your wife said to me last night.”
The retort in kind:
Me: “Your wife couldn’t say anything to me last night, as her head was buried in my ass.”
This would be really bad if we weren’t all really good friends.
But we are good friends and it’s all in fun, so it’s okay.
6) Is grossly inappropriate in the workplace (also see #1 through #5)
My wife knows both Rodneys…but is more in tune with “Home Rodney.”
She doesn’t like Work Rodney.
She gets glimpses of him at Christmas Parties and sh*t.
She also sees him sometimes when I walk into the bathroom in the morning…
…where she’s getting ready…
…and I have a handful of Kleenex…
…and am wiping my hands.
Wife (disgusted): “Did you…just…IN THE BED LYING DOWN?!“
Yeah. I did.
Kinda gross…she’s right.
…maybe next time I’ll stand up.
She’s not crazy about him.
In her defense, he IS a prick with very little tact.
I’m not sure where “Work Rodney” came from.
But I’m reminded of my Jekyll/Hyde thing every time I try to retell a crazy “sex” story to my wife…
…or manage to finagle the word “blowjob” into a conversation at home.
It usually doesn’t fly.
I’ll either get the eyeroll…
…or no laughter.
It’s like watching that kid who played “Skippy” from “Family Ties” do stand-up comedy.
Man…he really, really sucks at it.
I’m not sure where this behavior came from.
The only real clue I have is that it was learned behavior from my first job at a restaurant.
My boss, Jim, was a true pioneer of sexual harassment.
I actually think he may have invented it.
I got this job at the age of 15…
…where my mind was a conglomeration of pot, booze, Quaaludes, and pornography.
(this state lasted into my early twenties)
I was also very prone to suggestion.
…and Jim suggested a LOT.
Every day at work, I as an impressionable 15-year old, was able to watch the following things transpire:
#1: Jim’s waitress “Butt Clutch”
I have no idea how he got away with this.
But he was a GENIUS at it.
You name it – they got the “Butt Clutch.”
Yeah…he grabbed their bum.
As a side note to this, Jim’s wife also worked in the restaurant.
…which makes this guy even MORE of a hero to a 15-year old kid on Quaaludes.
Waitress comes into the kitchen:
Bum gets squished.
Waitress is leaving the kitchen:
Bum gets squished.
Waitress twenty feet away:
Bum gets squished.
It was like the guy was Mr. Fantastic.
Workplace bum squishing.
That’s right…to my young self…
#2: Referring to food as genitalia
Jim would often tell me to “go get a donkey.”
“Getting a donkey” referred to getting a beef tenderloin from the freezer.
Now, if you’ve ever seen a beef tenderloin in its entirety, it resembles a giant elephant dick.
(you may also realize this if you’re a female elephant)
Also known as a “donkey.”
Subsequently, Jim would grab this two foot long tube and – deftly placing one end on his sack – start swinging it around in a circular fashion, while yelling “It’s DONKEY TIME, ladies!”
That’s right, ladies…
It’s Donkey time.
Giant swinging beef penis.
Then he’d carve it up…and this was no longer funny.
Quite painful to watch, actually.
#3: The songs
Jim was not only a World Class Champion of Sexual Harrassment…
Jim was also a man of rhyme.
He was a virtual poet.
His favorite pastime was creating majestic rhymes…
…using the waitress’ names…
…and how he wanted to bang them.
Look out Ernest Hemingway!!
Jim would break into these rhymes when the waitresses walked into the kitchen…
…or were getting desserts…
…in the general vicinity.
Here is a sampling of the gems that I can remember, accompanied by my reviews:
To Sonya: “Sonya, Sonya…I want to get on ya.”
Simple, yet concise and straight to the point.
To Cindy: “Cindy, Cindy…I want to be in thee.”
Here we see the complexity in deftly referencing penetration, while still maintaining a quality rhyme.
A true word magician.
To Angela: “Angela, Angela…just blow me already.”
Hey….Sometimes poetry doesn’t have to rhyme.
Yet something else Jim taught me.
We also had a waitress named Ruth who wasn’t very attractive.
For her, he’d just look at her and go:
I’m not sure if she was relieved or saddened in not being included in the “I want to bang you” rhymes…
I’m guessing she was sad.
Sorry, Ruth…I could have come up with stuff like “love booth” or “snaggle tooth”….
…but back then, it was Jim’s call.
Damn it, he was a funny sh*t.
Sadly, Jim ended up getting in cocaine and sh*t, and eventually lost the restaurant.
The last time I saw him, he was managing a Wendy’s fast-food place one town over from me.
I wonder what rhyme he came up with for Wendy.
I bet it was f*cking hilarious…
…and involved something about his “Big Bacon Classic” or wanting her to be in a “triple with everything.”
Work Rodney salutes you.
Home Rodney has some dishes to do.
Yeah..Home Rodney may be gay.