Aitch-Bar

Two Almost Physicists With Almost Something To Say

This Cabin and Your Manhood Both Need Dozens of Animal Heads

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I’m feeling this rustic cabin, my friend. Very countrified. Check out that fireplace, what is that, a forty-eight inch? Nasty. It’ll be roasty toasty up in here come snowfall. Understated chandeliers, that’ll make for some good ambience. And you’ve got the feng shui in full effect with this chair and table arrangement. That’s all great. Only one problem I’m seeing, and that is that someone might catch sight of your living situation and then confuse you with a ball-less old lady. That is a potential issue. And as far as I can figure, there’s only one thing for it: we’re going to fill this place with animal heads until it’s standing room only.

See this fine-grain wood paneling between the mantle and the doorjamb? That’s got some badass texture, great with the overall motif. Here’s what I’m thinking: animal head, right on top of it. There’s only one thing with greater aesthetic value than woodgrain, and that is a summer coat preserved by world-class taxidermy. That’s card-carrying virile young male status. If they actually made cards for that, they would be made out of pelt.

Don’t make me get buck in here. And by that I mean, three hundred pound white tail with a two foot antler spread. Here, there, on that rafter, and pretty much anywhere we’re not going to have moose. Then you should mix it up with some marksmanship trophies. Skeet shooting is where it’s at. I’m thinking this entire area, to the window, to the wall, all skeet skeet. That says “man” with no room for miscalculation, which is important for you vis-a-vis the ball-less old lady situation. I bet you keep getting lost kids coming to your door asking for porridge or whatever. It’s because they look around, they don’t see any giant stuffed bears in attack position, and they figure you’re an old crone who’s probably got a kettle of something tasty going.

What’s that, in the far corner? That looks to me like some free space. You should see that free space and be thinking, this is bullshit, and then fill that gap with a hippopotamus. I’m thinking posed in full roar, like it’s the movie Congo and you’ve just willy-nilly rafted in on its territory as if you pay the rent. He’ll be like, “You folks must be lost. Allow me to serve you up a fresh helping of sixteen-inch incisors. Hope all your supplies weren’t on that one boat, because I just snapped into it like a Slim Jim. This is Hips territory, next time bitches stay on land where bitches belong.” That says nothing but hard. You may as well put up a giant phallus for all the subtlety in that message. A trophy dong. And below it? Two giant balls affixed to their own plaque, because structurally speaking you’re less likely to tear out the wall with separate support points.

When you have a party in here, people will be like, “wow, check out those heads. This guy is awesome and completely sane.” And deep down they will feel the seed of fear sprout a bud, because they’ve seen Highlander and they know how insanely powerful you probably are by now and how far you can jump. Then you can regale them with the story of how you were snowbound in here for five weeks and you fever-dreamed a complete production of A Streetcar Named Desire, with you as Blanche Dubois and a Bengal tiger playing the part of Stanley Kowalski. Rangers found you at first thaw au naturel and heavily depending on the kindness of strangers. That part isn’t mission-critical, but keep it on the back burner.

This is going to take some serious investment from you, because you’re going to have to grow a thick mustache and wear a safari hat all of the time. Which is probably not going to go over well with the missus. I can tell because she’s been glaring at me since I first opened my mouth. If this isn’t going over well it’s going to be even harder to pitch you on turning your minivan into The Mystery Machine. I should have opened with that idea.

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