The Man Room: Guy Turf or Prison?
Upon moving into our new house I quickly declared the west bedroom the official Man-Room. Off limits to anyone but me. I could smoke cigars, drink whiskey, dissect things and my girl couldn't say a damn thing about it. I was shocked when she openly supported the idea. Even helped me set up the joint. Soon after my announcement, the truth behind her support became horrifyingly clear when she announced that entire rest of the house would now be the Woman-Lair.
Shanghaied again. Damn, she's good!