I should change careers and become an auto mechanic. Why? Because I’m so damn butch.

I’m going to donate all of my custom made shirts and suits, $75 ties, and designer labeled shoes to take up wearing greasy, dirty jeans and steel toed boots. I’m gonna keep my head shaved and let my beard get craggily. I’ll be the poster boy man for a new national movement of masculinity. Let the metrosexuals choke on their Homo-styled lives and pussy-footed skin-care regimens while I live the life of a real man(tm).

You may be wondering why this sudden change in my demeanor. Why has The Brat(c) gone from sensible, high-end shopper and ultimate driving machine enthusiast to wanting to drive a beat up pick-up truck and wearing overalls? “Did he reach his credit card limit?” You may be wondering. “Did he suffer the ultimate insult from the Shrub’s administration and lose his income?” may be another question going through the minds of my tens of readers.

No, none of that.

Pull up a chair and make yourself comfy.

“Jen!”

“Jen!”

“Bring the fresh popped popcorn for my readers please!”

Now, let me tell you the story that has brought about such a massive testosterone building change in my life. Is everyone excited? I’m giddy just wanting to tell you. ok! OK! I’ll tell you.

I changed the central-locking switch in my BMW all by myself!

Can you believe it?!?!

I could hardly breathe I was so excited. I was panting like a little girl at the front of the line at a boy band record signing.

Here’s the story!

Last week, pulling up in front of Tom’s building on our way to the movies, the doors wouldn’t unlock. I actually had to reach over and open it. Following after the wise teachings of my father in the art of fixing anything, I started pounding on the button hoping to dislodge whatever was causing it to stick, which instead, ended up breaking the Hazard Light button nestled immediately to its side.

I dreaded the cost of having a BMW dealer do the repairs, so while I was at the dealer pricing a roof rack, I asked them how difficult it would be to repair it on my own. The service technician was very polite and gave me the simplest of instructions. Just shove something down the side of it and it pops right out. Then pop the new one in.

Twenty minutes later, there was a new switch unit installed in my car. Why twenty minutes to simply “pop” out the old one and “pop” in the new one? Cause it wasn’t that easy. The old switch ended up coming out in parts. Small parts. A LOT of small parts. I should have used a vacuum to get them all out.

So THAT, my tens of readers is why I am entitled to consider myself Butch.