Party Animal

The manopausal male is a party animal.  He dots from house to house during graduation weekend and is adept at spotting those tiny weiner hors doerves skewered on toothpicks.  He can eat three dozen of these, easy . . . and even have room for a piece of cake and a few pieces of kiwi, a fruit which offers the appearance that he is eating healthy and is concerned about his girth.

He's become a party animal through years of intense training, a regiment which began when he was twelve years old at a piano recital in which mixed nuts were served and grandparents praised him for his ability to play chopsticks.  Since that time he's attended any number of dances, wedding receptions, and a few funerals, and at each one he has been able to discover a food source.

The older male is regarded as a party expert because he can banter and boogie. He is able to relate to the party hosts and to the commoners, including the next door neighbors who only show up to swim and snack on water chestnuts.  He uses words like "fantastic", "delicious", and "bitchin'" so that people can see that he is a man of the people and that he knows a ripe melon when he bites into one.

The older male also escorts his wife in style, insisting that she wear her best gear and that she sit near him so that she can identify all of the relatives he has forgotten.  When he asks, "What's your second cousin's name again?" he expects an answer immediately and does not want to hear, "Puddin'tame".

As the older male dots from place to place he drinks lots of tea, and has to stop off at McDonalds to use the restroom between parties.  Naturally, his wife thinks she is getting fries out of the deal, but he returns with nothing.

Eventually the older male runs out of steam and passes out in a roadside ditch.  This is where commercials come from.

He refuels on white sheet cake and tells his wife how beautiful she is.

She doesn't believe a word of it, however, and eventually talks him into to buying more ice.