If I hear a guy utter the word “man cave” one more time, I may have to start confiscating man cards. Okay okay, we get it; it’s the one room where you are able to store your cool things, enjoy your surround sound, put your hand down the front of your pants and fart till you make the cat pass out. I’m all for that, and more power to you. But just because us ladies are usually in charge of making the rest of the house look nice doesn’t mean all that space is our fantasy playground. What would we do if we had a room, tucked away, that we could totally make our own without the pressure of having it look like crate and barrel puked all over it? What’s our version of the man cave? I present to you: The Bitch Bunker.
That’s right, ladies. My Bitch Bunker would have the most comfortable rug, no matter how ugly it was or how hard it would be to clean. (Of course, cleaning would not be an issue because my bitch bunker would come equipped with a Roomba.) The remote would have only two buttons: an “ON” button and an “OFF” button; and somehow it would know how to navigate perfectly between HGTV, Comedy Central, 30 Rock, and the Food Network.
My Bitch Bunker would have a Nutella dispenser right there on the wall, and that sucker would be set right at my modest height of 5’1″, so all I would need to do is walk up to it and stick my tongue out and it would administer the perfect portion of my favorite chocolaty treat. It would be just like those hands-free soap dispensers in restaurant bathrooms. Only way better. And right next to that Nutella dispenser would be an endless supply of Louis Martini Cabernet. On tap.
My Bitch Bunker would be an indoor/outdoor space, with a retractable roof so I could easily switch from gazing at the stars on a cool night or covering up when it’s rainy or cold. Soft, cozy cushions and throw blankets would be in every corner, so I could curl up anywhere and take a nap or read a magazine.
My Bitch Bunker would also contain a beautiful, spa bathroom with a toilet that cleans itself. (Just like the kind most men think they have in the rest of the house.)
The bathroom would have an array of natural lotions, soaps, and other skin care products, without any weird crap in them or long labels of sketchy ingredients to decode. My Bitch Bunker assistant, Emanuel, would of course assess any product that enters in my Bitch Bunker, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.
Also in my Bitch Bunker would be an amazing stereo system, programmed to play the perfect music depending on my moods during “that time of the month.” It would be called the You’re Not Bipolar 3000.
There would be no need for fancy furniture in my Bitch Bunker, as the surfaces would be provided by stacks of all the books I ordered off of Amazon that I haven’t gotten a chance to read yet, or read halfway and will “get to them later.”
My Bitch Bunker would be equipped with my “Brazilian Butt Lift” DVD’s, so that even if I wasn’t motivated to exercise, I could still watch the tapes and laugh at the crazy instructor yelling “Give it-a to me! Don’t-a hold nutting back! No save-a nutting for later!”
Scented candles are a must for my Bitch Bunker! Favorites are fresh apple, vanilla, and lavender. Also a must is a large closet full of every piece of comfortable clothing I’ve ever owned, no matter how hideous it is – I’m talking the kind of stuff you’re embarrassed to be caught in at CVS, but just couldn’t help yourself from throwing on.
Oh I could go on forever, but how about you – what would be in your bitch bunker?