"Bitch-gloss",
my ass, son. Spend 40 years in Northern WI winters and you'll learn to
appreciate chapstick. Having your face fray around the edges and your lips peel off in painful bloody strips ain't much fun.
So if y'all are callin me a "bitch" or "feminized"... heh. Come up North with me for six months of my choosing. We'll see who's beggin' for some Carmex or Burt's Bees.
On the other hand, wannabe-biker sissies with palm-lotion and knuckle-balm... that's news to me.
Also, some Beckerhead (whom I forget at the moment) a couple months ago suggested using chapstick as a food-safe "coating" on plain carbon knives to prevent undue corrosion, and I subsequently discovered that it works pretty well for that, too. :thumbup:
I do draw the line at the stuff with sparkles in it, though.
In other news...
Never been real big on the winter holidays myself. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite, because it has the least "commerical" feel and the most
"let's just get together and celebrate the harvest" kinda thing to it. Y'know, like a Beckerhead Gathering. Where everybody just chips in together and it's a blast.
Sadly, all that changes a bit when you become a "grown-up" and start actually hosting the Turkey-Day festivities (whether you wanted to or not). Suddenly, everyone coming over to your house has requests for their traditional home-cooked favorites, and of course they're only gonna bring a crappy store-bought pie in a box or a six pack of warm mediocre beer. Meanwhile, you and your wife are working your behinds off and spending scads of money so these rascals can come have a glorious feast in your home once a frickin' year... and you never see 'em or hear from 'em the other 364 days. The wife is stressed as hell for three weeks in advance and after, and the whole time, you're sitting there going "Got-dang, this was a lot more enjoyable when I was a kid and didn't realize how much work went into it".
Wow... sorry guys and gals, I got a little snarky there.

I do still love Thanksgiving very much. Just sometimes I wonder... damn... ain't it supposed to be
fun? 