Tag Archives: hot

It’s Hotter than a Snake’s Ass in a Wagon Rut!

Photo: Jeff McNeill/Flickr

It’s hot!

Okay, it’s not just hot, it’s really hot!

Okay, it’s not just really hot, it’s like really, totally hot!

Okay, it’s not just like really, totally hot, it’s like really, totally, oppressively hot!

Okay it’s not just like really, totally, oppressively hot… “it’s hotter than a snake’s ass in a wagon rut!”

Yeah, I don’t know what that means, but Robin Williams said it in “Good Morning Vietnam”, so it’s got to mean something.

I looked up a few “It’s Hotter…” quotes. Here’s some highlights:

“It’s hotter than a billy-goat with a blow torch!” I don’t know what this means either but I can only imagine if my two goats, Naughty and Heath were donning blow torches, things would be getting pretty hot.

“It’s hotter than a two-peckered goat!” Pretty self-explanatory, I suppose.  How about a two-peckered goat with a blow torch?

“It’s hotter than a pussy in a pepper patch!” Must have something to do with cats.

“It’s hotter than shit sauce!” I don’t know, I’ve never tried shit sauce.

Anyway, the Midwest, like a lot of the country is in the midst of a record-setting heat wave, with temps in the 100’s. It hasn’t rained in God knows how long and everything is brown and dead.  Seems like in years past we would sit outside two to three evenings a week in the summertime, watching thunderstorms roll in. My 120+ year old house doesn’t have air conditioning, so we put those window units in a bunch of our windows and spend a lot of time sitting around in our underwear. On days like these they seem to be doing not much other than blowing the hot air around.

I have to admit though, hot summer days sort of have this romantic, sexual appeal. It makes me think of Hemingway sitting at a primitive wooden table, in a rustic shelter in Africa with a cold glass of whiskey and a Royal Deluxe typewriter. It makes me think of beaches and cold drinks and salty, burnt skin.

In fact, just yesterday…

I was out doing some work around my property, digging some holes to repair some of the rotted fence posts around our pastures.  I was wearing a pair of Levi’s, heavy work boots and a white, fitted, cotton v-neck t-shirt, worn almost transparent from many years in the washer and dryer. My ripped arms burst out of the sleeves with every shovel full of dry, dusty dirt. Within minutes, hot, searing sweat was dripping down my body, glistening over my pecs and abs and soaking my now see-through shirt. As I worked, the hot sun beat down on my skin, burning and tanning it, deepening the distinguished creases and wrinkles that decorate my face and neck. My hair, coaxed back with salty sweat, styled better than any hair gel could ever provide. Shovel full after shovel full of dirt, my muscles ached with burning pain, rest and cool air the only thing that could ease their desperate misery. My lips, parched and sunburned, craved water, cool and sensual and life-giving.

After a few hours, my wife returned from work and drove into the driveway in a red 1964 Mustang. “Where’s the blue mini-van”, I wondered? As I approached the car, ready to query where it had come from, my thoughts quickly changed as she stepped out, wearing a tight pair of denim, daisy-duke shorts and a plaid, country-girl blouse, tied up in the front.

“Wow, they let you dress like that at work?” I asked.

“Casual Friday,” she replied in a sultry, sexy voice.

“You look good,” I stammered.

“You too” she replied, “you’ve been working?”

“Yeah, for a few hours.”

“Can I get you a glass of ice water?” she offered

“Yeah, that would be great.”

A few minutes later she returned from the house with a large glass of water filled to the brim with ice and with cool, wet condensation running down her arms.

“Tip your head back,” she said.

As I tipped my head back, I could feel her wrap her free arm around me as she pulled her hot, sexy body close to mine. Our burning, luminous sweat mixed as she poured the cold water down my throat and over my chin and chest. As our bodies merged together, her lips touched my ear and she whispered in her steamy, sultry voice….

“Steve, wake up, it’s 8:00 o’clock, Madeline has softball practice at 9:00.”

 “Yeah, I know baby, that’s so hot!”

“Hot, what are you talking about? Wake up, it’s 8:00 o’clock, we have to get Madeline to softball practice by 9:00.”

“What… huh…? Oh, yeah, softball practice… alright, alright, I’m awake… I was just dreaming… I think the heat is getting to me…”

So, it is hot where you are?  Feel free to share your “hotter than…” quotes.  And please… this was purely fictional… my wife doesn’t drive a red 1964 Mustang.

What’s not fictional? It’s definitely “hotter than a snake’s ass in a wagon rut.” I hear it’s supposed to cool off next week!


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Look, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never been very good at the whole romance part of a relationship. It’s not that I’m not a good, loyal, loving husband and a caring, dedicated, involved father. It’s just that I’ve never been very good at the whole flowers and jewelry and wine and dine and “sweep her off her feet” routine. Sure, I can pull it off occasionally but it’s just not necessarily my thing… okay, there I said it! On the other hand, where I do excel is being handy. I am handy around the house. I can fix things, I can build stuff, I can install doors and floors and lay ceramic tile in the bathrooms. I’m not as handy as some guys, and I don’t have any training in any of these skills – I just figure it out as I go along, but somehow it always seems to work out okay. I also know when a project is over my head, beyond my skill level and when it’s time to call a professional in to get the job done quickly and efficiently and accurately, but I figure I have saved us literally thousands of dollars over the years by being too cheap to just pick up the phone and call someone.

Sometimes I wish my handiness could somehow be translated into my, you know… what’s the word… uh… romantic… ness. Because you know what?  Frankly, tools CAN BE SEXY!

James Taylor said it best in his song Handyman:

“Hey girls, gather ‘round
Listen to what I’m putting down
Hey baby, I’m your handyman”

So, all you guys out there, you know that Valentine’s Day is just around the corner? Yeah, seriously, it’s about a week away, don’t fuck it up again this year. Here’s my plan… c’mon, follow along… I think this will work.

ME:  Hey baby, I got you something for Valentine’s Day.

HER:  Oh, that’s so sweet!  Wow, it’s heavy!

ME:  Yeah, it’s packed full of love baby, I think you’ll like it!

HER: Opens gift.  Oh, what is it… it looks like a toolbox?

ME:  Yeah baby, it’s a toolbox just for you.

HER:  Uh… why’d you get me a toolbox?

ME: Well, I’m trying to translate my skills at being handy into my… you know… romanticism… isn’t that sweet?  See, open it up… all these tools inside… you know… tools can be SEXY and ROMANTIC.  Like these nails… you know… ’cause you’re the nails that hold my life together… and these pliers… ’cause I’ll always hold you tight, baby, ’cause you’ve got a vice grip on my heart… and this planer here… that’s so whenever you are having a rough day… I’ll be there to help take the edge off… cool, huh?

HER:  Uh… seriously… you got me a toolbox?

ME:  Yeah baby,  check it out… see this hammer… ’cause, like I know sometimes I’m hard-headed and make you want to pull your nails out, but I really do love you more than anything… isn’t that awesome?  Let’s see what else is in here…. how about this level… ’cause I’m so level-headed… you know… isn’t that cool?  You always level with me and I’ll always level with you.  HOT huh?  And look, here’s a measuring tape… what do you think that means?

HER:  Uh… I can only imagine… something to do with the length of your… oh nevermind…

ME:  Ha Ha… no baby… seriously… it’s like… let’s go the distance… like I’m totally committed… isn’t that sexy baby?

HER:  I’m starting to think you need to be committed… like to a mental health ward!

ME: Awww, c’mon baby… check this out… look at this saw… you know… the first tiiimmmme…. ever I saaaaaaw yoouurr faaace… HOT huh?  That’s Roberta Flack baby.

HER:  Giggling.  Yeah, I know that song…

ME:  Yeah baby, I knew you’d like this stuff… check out this hacksaw here… ’cause you look so sharp, you could cut through metal… like BUTTA!

HER:  You’re such a dork!

ME:  Baby, you’re so hot when you’re being cynical!

HER:  Pulling out another tool.   What’s this?

ME:  Baby… that’s a chisel… for carving out my six-pack abs… for you baby! How SMOKIN’ HOT is that?

HER:  laughing  I don’t think it’s working… maybe the chisel isn’t sharp enough!

ME:  Yeah, I know… it’s the thought though right?  Hey check out this wrench, baby… what do you think it means?

HER:  I don’t know… you’d better not make any snide comments about me being a wench.

ME:  Ha ha… no baby, it’s like… hey if you keep my nuts and bolts adjusted… we’ll always have a tight, solid, stable relationship.

HER:  Uh… seriously… did you really just say that?

ME:  Yeah… isn’t that HOT… and this ratchet set here… ’cause you can turn me on in even the tiniest of spaces.

HER:  Ugh!

ME:  Yeah, I know, that’s totally HOT baby, right?

HER:  Reaches in and pulls out another tool.   What’s this for?

ME: That’s a wood rasp baby… ’cause sometimes it’s better rough and sometimes it’s better smooth… yeah baby… WOO HOO… isn’t that totally HOT baby?

HER: How about this screwdriver… let me guess… ’cause you like to screw?

ME:  WOW, that is SO TOTALLY AWESOME!! See, you’re starting to get the hang of it… man, I knew you’d love this gift!

HER: Uh, yeah, well it is different…

ME:  Yeah I know it totally rocks doesn’t it?  Tools are totally sexy, right?

HER: Um… well… yeah…uh… sure… sexy… what’s this drill for?

ME:  C’mon, baby… you can guess… what do think it’s for?

HER:  Giggling.  I know… if I show you my bits… you have to show me your drill?

ME:  ROCK ON DUDE!  Yeah, totally awesome, that was so FREAKIN’ HOT… I love you MAN!

HER:  Okay, you’re right… that’s was a pretty cool gift… I suppose we should go have sex or something now?

ME:  Yeah baby, wow, that’s so HOT… but, hey I have a better idea…

HER:  And what would that be?

ME:  C’mon, baby, grab the car keys… Home Depot is having a sale on power tools… now THAT’S  HOT!!!

Hope you all have a “constructive”  Valentine’s Day!


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