In this modern high-paced world women are now considered equals to men. There is nothing a man can do that a woman can’t.
Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was watching Dexter’s Lab and I didn't know what I was saying. What I meant to say is that women are inferior - not equal - to men. Women can't drive, piss standing without getting urine all over themselves, drive, not bleed from their genitals for 4 days in a row every month, drive, fix things, drive, “bring home the bacon”, drive, throw a ball, drive, and most importantly, drive...just to name a few. As much as I would love to go on about how women and cars are an awful combination, this blog is about perfect combinations, and I, Soup-Kitchen Sanders, have sworn to seek out and report on such combinations.
Today’s combination takes us on yet another ride through the realm of shit women can’t do. Have you ever seen a woman wearing flannel (shirt, that is)? Of course you have. Have you ever seen a woman with a beard wearing flannel? Fuck no, and don’t let Raptor tell you otherwise. He was drunk and the bulge in that bitch’s pants was evident. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, beards and flannels are a combination that will make Miley Cyrus want to move her hips “like yeah”. Some assholes may argue that flannels aren't that great. I tell those assholes to go chew on some diabetic porcupines. The key here is, of course, the combination. Beards are already manly enough, but toss in a flannel, and your peeper will become an indestructible rod of justice and pleasure (to vaginas). This combination brings a man to a whole new level of man. A “beard and flannel man” is a man that can go outside in the middle of an Alaskan blizzard wearing nothing but his beard and his flannel (and maybe some boots but these are just for show) to build a shelter out of nothing more than a polar bear’s hide and bones - which he killed by mounting a grizzly bear, tearing off its head, and entering its body to use it as an ultimate polar bear-destroying-super-suit - that he didn't need in order to kill the polar beast and only wore to impress a foxy lady who’s into that kinky bear stuff.
The flannel of a “beard and flannel” man is always covered in assorted scents that do nothing but please the individual smelling them. A mixture of smoke, beef jerky, pine needles, freshly chopped wood, and a small hint of body odor cover the flannel in a layer that protect the bearded man wearing it from any harm, such as bullets and fags. The beard is covered in a sweetly intoxicating combination of varied alcoholic beverages. Some say that if one squeezed such a beard, perfectly delicious moonshine would pour from it with any and all impurities filtered out by the beard itself. This is only a myth, however, since not one person has ever come close enough to the beard of a flannel wearer to attempt such an act.
Now, my homeboy Ryan Mackay brings up a fantastic point: there ARE some fucked up bearded women out there. Does the righteousness of the beard/flannel combo apply to them as well? What I said to my homeboy Ryan Mackay was that these women are called “Bull-Dykes” and are among a rare breed of vagina-d super humans that almost, but not quite, parallel the raw power of a bearded, flanneled, man. This is the closest any woman will ever come to knowing what it’s like to be manly. Documented cases even exist of bearded women driving while wearing flannel. At first glance this might not be surprising, since almost all women drive, they just happen to suck at it. What is surprising, though, is that these particular flanneled freaks drive well.
Whats that Joey Skinner? You still don't believe that beards and flannels are a perfect combination? Consider this, your junk keeps the lower half of your body warm (don't believe me? Ask Fuzzy Randy how he keeps his house warm), a flannel can keep your torso warm, and a beard will keep your face warm. Besides, the beard/flannel combo is about as rough'n'tumble as it gets; no one ever worries about getting his beard or flannel dirty. Oh no did you get wood shavings all over your flannel when you were cutting down that tree with your butter knife? Don't cry like a pussy; that shit builds character and your flannel knows it. If the flannel had a brain of its own it might feel sad and abused, but only for a split second. It would quickly look up at the beard and notice that it, too, was covered in wood shavings. The flannel knows it can be taken off and washed. The beard is there to stay. And so the flannel realizes things could be much worse and decides that if the beard can take one for the team, it can too! Likewise, the beard knows it has to set an example for the flannel. Ultimately, the beard and the flannel work together to protect and bring out the best qualities of the wearer in the most selfless act of teamwork facial hair and clothing could possibly display.
