LIFE IN THE BOONIES
Up here in the Boonies there are lots of real men.
This begs the question, what is a real man? A real man is not someone who drives a 4X4 or who rides a Harley. It's not someone who wears leather or Levi's or who sports a tattoo on a bulging bicep or who displays a favorite football or baseball team's logo out on the front lawn. It's not someone who eats red meat or quiche. It has nothing to do with firearms or patriotism. We're all patriotic up here in the Boonies but not all patriots are real men.
What makes a man a real man is his shed out behind the house.
A shed is a man's secret lair; the place where he keeps all of his dangerous stuff like chain saws and weed whackers and rows of smelly liquids that could kill anything that crawls or flies. It's his personal armory, his stockpile of chemical weapons; it's where he arms himself to do battle with the flora and fauna that threaten to encroach on his existence, overrunning his house and his family like an army of invaders from outer space — or at least from those outer spaces on the fringes of his yard.