MAN CREATED GOD IN his image. Woman busted his balls for it immediately.
“What the freakin’ hell? You don’t have enough to do with the hunting and the gathering crap? I gotta tell you, if you’ve got all that time to spare I got some hides you can be scraping and some bones you can be hauling out to the trash!”
Man was not in the mood to hear Woman‘s mouth on the matter. He put on his loftiest ‘I- am-being-holy’ look and told her,
“You couldn’t understand.”
Her reply was distinctly unholy and to the point.
“Your ass – which you’ve been sitting on for two days while you paint those freakin’ pictures and I do all the work. That I understand.”
Man countered with, “I only create what we need to answer the questions of the Universe.”
Man shrugged. “Okay. You’re on your feminist thing. I’ll throw in a Goddess while I’m at it.”
“To do what? Clean up after your God? Or to give you an excuse to spend even more time jacking off? Here. Let me see those pictures.”
Man was proud enough to show Woman what he’d drawn. He shouldn’t have been. Her bellow at the sight of the first picture sounded like a herniated hippo’s gut popping.
“What the hell is that thing!”
Man peeked over Woman’s shoulder and winced a little.
“It’s Snake,” he told her. “A honkin’ big bad guy doing his bad guy thing.”
“And he’s talking to me? Are you telling me he’s talking to me?”
Man hedged on his answer. He and Woman had been through more than one go around about her fascination with Snake. They were at a truce on it now, but Man knew it was going to take some egg walking to keep her chilled out.
“Okay. He’s not, ah, all that bad and he’s talking to a woman, okay? Could be anybody.”
The rain cloud covering Woman’s face did not get sunny. “You see anybody else around here carrying forty inch tata tatas?”
Man had to admit he didn’t. He tried another track. “Look, it’s just symbolic. I mean, you’re you, okay? You’re the Goddess. And the snake thing is, well, what you’re interested in, you know?”
The expression on woman’s face changed from anger to amusement. “In your dreams it’s that big!”
Man could not leave it alone. “And Snake’s is?”
Woman sneered. “What’s goin’ on between me and Snake’s got nothin’ to do with that. You ask me, you males make too damn big a deal about both the size and the song connected with your dingalollies, anyway. I mean, it ain’t like it’s the only goody in the garden, if you get my meaning!”
Man got her meaning. He was a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but the abundance of zucchini had always been more than a little suspicious to him. The confirmation of those suspicions crushed him. He’d really thought the bitch was telling him just how wonderful his special attachment was when she did all that moaning and thrashing around stuff.
He pouted when he snapped back at her, and didn’t give a healthy fart that he was. “Seemed plenty big enough when you were getting your goodies from it,” he grumbled, “Had half the damn creatures in the garden yelling for you to get it over with so they could go back to sleep.”
“I was faking it. Damn with you and that penis power trip!”
Penis power trip. Well if that wasn’t the shits. Man threw the crap right back at her. “Penis power? How about pussy power – like every twenty eight days you won’t give me any because you’re on your ‘special time’?”
Woman shrugged, then jabbed him back.