Monday, March 28, 2011
He can aspirate two nostrils in under ten seconds.
He’s been known to liberally extend the 5-second rule on floor-bound fikeys.
He once changed 13 diapers in one day.
He is The Most Boring Man in the World.
I just came up with a great idea for a film. We’ve all seen that handsome bearded fellow in the Dos Equis commercials, and know him by his probably-trademarked moniker. He's so damn convincing in that role that I think it’s high time to give him a run at the cinema. Okay, this idea is not entirely “original” or even maybe “good,” but I think it has potential. Listen: Through a chain of highly-coincidental events, I end up switching places with this guy, and that’s pretty much the story. It’s a feel-gooder, the seasoned bachelor a la Jack Nicholson drowning in spit-up while I’m off cha-cha-cha-ing the night away with a harem of swimsuit models. Hilarity inevitably ensues.
Each struggles at first (I can’t dance, for example), then grows into his respective role. Then I find the cure to our condition and must decide if I should return to the family life or continue living the dream. Moment of Crisis. Fast forward to the climax: I’m standing in Christmas-time snow peering into my living room window, watching the impostor beaming as he coddles my now-bigger child in his mangy beard, my wife smiling a smile that betrays a subtle sense of loss behind him. Anyway, we both return to our former lives, wiser, happier, more grateful, etc. Character growth, lessons learned, happy happy joy joy.
Okay, so it’s not entirely unlike that fine Fred Savage vehicle whose name eludes me, or that Judge Reinhold classic, Vice Versa. Was that the same movie? Whatever, just consider the comedic gold when Fernando first interacts with my wife:
W: Can you change him, please? I think he pooped. And I have to pump.
F: I don’t always change poopie diapers, but when I do, I prefer Luvs Deluxe.
W: This is a Pampers home. So if you want Luvs, why don’t you take your happy ass to Target and buy some?
F: I don’t always shop for diapers, but when I do, I prefer Costco.
W: Please stop talking like that.
F: I don’t always talk like this, but when I—
W: Shhhhh. Just change the fucking diaper. Por favor.