A song about irony with lyrics that aren't even ironic. . . either she's as retarded as her large forehead and furrowing brow makes her look, or a complete genius.
But there's also techno, glow sticks, laser light shows, wide pants, and meth addicted women with missing teeth and yellowed skin. . . is that kind of trade off really something you'd want to consider signing up for?
Dude should have played it cool and laughed. If his wife was hip, she would have known what was up and they could have tried to pull their shit together some how.
. . . or, obviously his wife hates him.
Vajayjay? No man who doesn't watch Oprah should ever use that term. . . and since no man should ever watch Oprah, I should never hear "vajayjay" come out of a man's mouth.
Get on a plane, fly home, then go back in the fall. It's over 100 degrees there now, worst possible time for a visit unless you like running to and from an air conditioned car.
I guess you can drive out to the desert and buy blankets from Indians.