There’s no blue-collared working stiff more pissed off than Al Bundy. He spends his days hammering shoes on the Clydesdales that feed-bag their way into his store, only to be bombarded by the shrill cries of his harpy wife when he walks through his front door after a day of hard work. A dim-witted slutty daughter, and a peeping-Tom troll of a son, only add to the problem. Few things make this man’s man happy, and Labor Day is one of them (right up there between sitting on the couch with a hand thrust down his pants and the nudie bar). It is the one day of the year when the Gods rip that demon-wife he has away from her beloved Oprah and put her to work, for once.
Let us celebrate this Labor Day by taking a few lessons from the page of Bundy. Reuse last year’s burger ashes, scrape the bird doodie off the lawn furniture, and boff yer woman in broad daylight. For today…is Al BUN-Day.