My wife has shouted me out on her fabulous blog which has the bonus of being both blessedly gunt and ranga-free, and much better written. For those of you who live in a cabin in the woods, one's "wife" or "wifey" is, in the parlance of today's youth, simply one's close female friend. Clearly, I have a husband (the venerable Manimal ) for home. Anyhoo, my wife makes life bearable for me on the regular, and for that I salute her. In her own post , my wife likened our relationship to that of Mickey Dolenz and Mike Nesmith of The Monkees fame. I could get on board with this, if my mother had not harbored a wicked Davy Jones crush which effectively rendered me unable to look at them without an involuntary shudder. I, being far more predictable and low-brow, (wow, that's probably the first time The Monkeys have been considered high-brow) will offer my own virtual sketch of our bond. This picture represents us quite well. Always getting up to misc...