A Tribute to Dirt


I love the show “Dirty Jobs.” Now, when I say love, I mean that I have in fact dreamt about said show’s host, Mike Rowe.  And if you are wondering if we lived happily ever after, I am happy to report that yes, we did.

No words needed here. Shhh. Just look.

Why do I like a show about a guy who just gets “dirty?”  I honestly don’t know. Here’s all I can think of at the moment:

  1. He has a wicked sense of humor–seriously hysterical
  2. He’s a man’s man–that is to say, he does different kinds of jobs and work that are rough, rugged, and yes, dirty. What makes him impressive is that he’s good at almost everything he does–he gets it done.
  3. He’s exceptionally good looking. Really truly, hot.

.... they don't make 'em like this anymore...

That’s it. That’s all I got. There’s not a whole lot of rational behind my patronage to Tuesday nights beyond the fact that his wit and charm can hold my attention.  What can I say? I’m low maintenance.


About mndunn26

I recently realized that my life is somewhat of a beautiful mess. A "pollack-type-picture" if you will, of colors, experiences, and people that, despite the seeming disarray, is captivating & confusing; patterened & yet unpredictable. But most of all, it is mysteriously designed, purposed, and appointed. For what? I don't know yet... but I'm learning as I go.

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