Trade Secrets From the Greatest Husband in the Fucking Universe

It’s no understatement that I am the greatest husband mankind has ever produced. Compared to me, Ward Cleaver was an adulterous prick. I’m so good at husbanding, they should legalize polygamy just for me. I cook. I clean. I listen. I have a penis the size of a Mag-Lite. If you’re looking for the total package ladies, well tough shit. I’m already taken.

What’s the secret to a successful marriage, you ask? I’m about to tell you. Over the years, I’ve developed a repartee, if you will, of things to say to Mrs. Drew to keep her happy. For example, let’s say I fuck up and forget to take out the trash. Rarely happens, but I’m only a demigod. Here’s what I usually say in my defense:

“Honey, I’m just doing the best I can.”

And you know what? It fucking works, because it’s true. But here’s the catch: you actually do have to do the best you can. You can’t crash the car, bang the nanny, give your wife syphilis and then say, “I’m just doing the best I can.” Because, in that case, you are clearly not doing the best you can. If you put in some effort, and then point out that you’re making that effort, you’ll be at the bar playing Golden Tee with her blessing in no time.

Here’s another situation. Let’s say Mrs. Drew is telling me a long story that, for one reason or another, I have no real interest in. Mrs. Drew isn’t a babbler like your standard female lunatic, but sometimes I just won’t feel like listening. Here’s a gem I’ll usually throw out:

“Well, there you go.”

It’s the perfect thing to say, because it means absolutely nothing, but works in context with everything. Bad day at work? Well, there you go. The Girl was fussy today? Well, there you go. Dinosaurs have returned to Earth? Well, there you go. If I pepper that little saying through her story, she’ll be convinced that I’m retaining all the info she’s dumping on me. I’m not actually listening, of course. I’m really thinking about the NFL Draft. But a couple “There you go”’s and I give off the illusion of listening, which is just as good.

Here are some more sayings I’ve perfected:

“Well, what are ya gonna do.” Any time Mrs. Drew is angry about something not involving me, this usually calms her down. Something shitty happened? Well, what are ya gonna do. Daddy needs a scotch!

“Eh, that’s the way it goes.” See above.

“Well, if that’s the worst thing I’ve ever done, consider yourself lucky.” This works because there are so many dipshit guys out there. Shit, did I accidentally leave my Chap Stick in the wash? My bad, dear. But hey, at least I’m not as shitty a husband as Scott Peterson!

Mrs. Drew knows these sayings by heart now, but here’s the thing: any time I say one of these things to her, she laughs because it’s so transparent. And then she forgets what she was pissed at me for. So take the above advice to heart. When your wife/girlfriend/concubine/kidnapping victim is letting you eat ice cream and masturbate while playing online poker, you’ll thank me.