just like the day you finally cut off your hand and replaced it with a chainsaw, I have completed a major life milestone today...using my air compressor.
The titles of immature, helpless, sad, needy, lonely, pathetic, lopsided, duesche bag, delusional, and not very hairy no longer apply to me after this morning being as I used my very own personal air compressor for the first time ever. The only truly fitting title now is MAN.
The flat tires of the bike I needed to ride on account of my parents needing their car they had loaned me didn't really stand a chance against my air compressor. It looked those deflated tires in the valve stem and said, "Tires, you think you're cool, being all flat and useless like a hipster? Not any more, you don't. They'll be calling you Barbie once I'm done with you." ...a minor struggle, some wiggling and hissing, and 3 minutes later... you guessed it- I had become a man.
Some people still pump up tires with hand pumps. HAND PUMPS! I'm not one to judge, but hand pumping sounds a whole lot like some disgusting self-gratification maneuver and does not IN ANY WAY sound like...a man...making a machine pump up his bike tires.
Feels good to be a man now...and to know a REAL man doesn't do work. He buys machines that do his work for him; like air compressors...and smartphones. Do you think I dial phone numbers or write text messages? No. No real man does. I look my phone in it's 4.3" HD screen and I command it to text my wife and tell her I won't be home for dinner. I will be out with my man friends...probably man hugging...because I'm a man and that's what we do...hug and use air compressors while voice texting.
For those who can't read but like pictures with lots of words on them, here is the photo blog illustrating metaphorically how it all went down:
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