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WATCH: Chad Dad Saves Trad Wife; Chucks Bobcat Across Yard

As the post title indicates a Chad Dad did, in fact, save his Trad Wife and chuck a wild bobcat across his front yard:

Absolute King shit from Chad Dad.

Our Boomer Adonis yanks the bobcat off Trad Wife, it growls in his face and, undeterred, Chad Dad flings that fucker across the front yard.

Dude didn't flinch, he sensed danger and immediately (well... pretty immediately) jumped into action and resolved the situation.

I mean, that's what Chad Dad's do.

Now I should preface the rest of this blog with the following: I don't know anything about this video, I stumbled across it yesterday on Twitter and the mystery, sheer competence and unadulterated masculinity involved inspired me to write this post.

This video is only 46 seconds long, but there is so much to dissect - so buckle up, buckaroos, it's time to appreciate the Ballad of Chad Dad.


Let's start with Chad Dad's fit:

100% Dad Drip

Our boy is rocking an oversized fleece, a sweater over a collared shirt, shorts, high socks and hiking boots. This stud is ready to visit his parents, eat dinner with family friends, enjoy a round of put-put, pick up some Ammo from Bass Pro Shop, and/or go toe to toe with a wild bobcat.

Brownies? Yep, he's got those too - maybe dropping them off for his secretary who's been home sick with the 'Rona or bringing a care package to Junior at Indoctrination State University.

Think he's going anywhere without a tumbler full of hot coffee? You're fucking wrong, kemosabe - he never leaves home without a steaming hot cup of joe. He takes his coffee black, of course, no pussy ass sugar or cream for our Boomer god.



Chad Dad is a warrior, no doubt, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have time to say "mornin'" to Carol, the barrel chested, neighborhood MILF, who has always wanted to literally suck the life out of Chad Dad through his trousers.

Chad Dad has not, nor ever would never indulge her, though.

No, Chad Dad picked Trad Wife to be his forever and ever and not even Carol's DSLs could ever change that.


"I need to wash my car" says Chad Dad, who knows that a man is and should forever be judged by how he maintains his tools.

You don't achieve Chad Dad Status by driving around in a slightly dusty 2018 white Ford Explorer.

No, your car is a representation of you and Chad Dad knows it's bucket and suds time when he returns to his McMansion later in the day.

If you think Chad Dad would ever take his chariot to a gas station Car Wash, I'm literally laughing my ass off at you right now. Those things "don't do shit" says Chad Dad, and they certainly would never get his rims as shiny as his trusty tooth brush does when he uses it to scrub in between the lug nuts.

Fuck outta here with that Car Wash bullshit, Chad Dad says, "I need to wash MY car."


"Come on, Trad Wife, I love you to death, but let's pick up the pace here! You know I hate to be late - Chad Dad is punctual AF!"

"Ok, honey, I am sorry . . . I was just bringing out this animal carrier with (what the fuck is inside that animal carrier? A cat?) and . . .WTF?!? I'm being scratched, Chad Dad, help me!!!!!"

Chad Dad hears Trad Wife's distress and springs into action, not knowing what dangers await him. But Trad wife is his Qween and God help anyone who dared to disrespect his Qween.


It's go time, MFER.

Chad quickly runs over to Trad Wife and yanks the attacker off her back.

He holds the hellcat in an inescapable grip as it hisses and growls in his face.

"It's a Bobcat!" Chad Dad exclaims as he prepares to dispose of the beast in the only way he knows how - flinging that fucker across the yard:

Let's be honest here, this bobcat is lucky that Chad Dad watches NatGeo in between re-runs of the Barret Jackson car auction and WW2 documentaries on the History Channel (that is when the History Channel is running that "lame ass reality TV bullshit").

Alas, Chad Dad is a nothing if not, somewhat, deep down, a softie when it comes to animals - so instead of decapitating this beast, Chad Dad hurled it toward the earth and then immediately assumed a defensive posture:

Legs spread apart, glutes engaged, arms akimbo.

Do you think you have a chance to take down this absolute Brick Shithouse of a Man when he's established his leverage in a picture-perfect defense stance?

Good luck.


Things seemed to be resolved here. . . WAIT, NO!

What the fuck are you doing, Carol? Chad Dad had this under control until you decided to go full retard and try to "help". . . by running directly at the bobcat.

Some might say Carol was being heroic here, running head first into the action, but her recklessness destroyed the perimeter Chad Dad had established and pushed the bobcat back towards the house.

"What is that thing?" Carol asks, like a total idiot.

"Heavens, it's a fucking Bobcat, Carol. My lord, if it weren't for those luscious mommy milkers, and my adherence to the code of chivalry , I'd hurl you across the yard too."


With the perimeter breached and the bobcat presenting renewed threat to his homestead, Chad Dad is left without any options and unholsters his weapon.

"I'm gonna shoot that fucker!" Chad Dad declares with the sturdiness of a mighty oak.

The remainder of the encounter is lost to the ages and leaves us only to wonder as to what happened next.


In my mind, Chad Dad is satisfied that the bobcat has left his property and goes inside to console Trad Wife. He tells her that he will "fucking END that bobcat" if it ever sets foot in his driveway again.

He embraces Trad Wife to provide her solace. While Chad Dad's perfectly square chin rests upon her head, he sees the bobcat through his glass patio doors.

Sitting atop the perfectly maintained white wooden fence, the Bobcat glares at Chad Dad.

Our rugged, not-so-chiseled hero locks eyes with the beast and leers back with the intensity of 1,000 suns. Check that, 1,000,000 suns!

Chad Dad mouths the words "you're fucking dead" as the bobcat pauses, then turns and retreats into the wild.

They both know that this battle has only begun.


That's the way I see it going down, anyways.

Happy Friday, have a great weekend and God Bless America.

























Chad Dad and Trad Wife clean themselves up and return on whatever journey they had planned for the day.

Chad Dad apologizes profusely for being three minutes late.

Later that day, the couple returns home and Chad Dad washes his car as Trad Wife prepares his favorite meal, meatloaf, for dinner.

Chad Dad finishes drying off his white Ford Explorer, hangs up his trusty sheepskin chamois and examines his sparkling land yacht in quiet satisfaction.

The two share a lovely dinner and chuckle over the bobcat incident earlier in the day. Trad Wife walks over to Chad Dad and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek and calls him "my hero".

Overruling Trad Wife's objections, Chad Dad insists on doing the dishes, just as he always has, and begins consolidating what remains of the meatloaf for tomorrow's lunch.

Trad Wife relents and chides Chad Dad to "not take too long" as she retires upstairs for the evening.


Upon finishing his task, Chad Dad makes his way to the couple's bedroom.

There he finds the bed empty, a curious state of affair, given that Trad Wife had already retired for the evening.

Undeterred, Chad Dad ventures over to his side of the bed and begins undressing for his slumber. It is then that the door to the Master Bathroom opens, unveiling a lingerie clad Trad Wife, seductively standing and posing for her man.

"You. Bed. Now." Chad Dad demands.

Trad Wife obliges and the two proceed to make animalistic boomer love for the next several minutes. It is not run of the mill, Chad Dad-Trad Wife sex either - no, on this occasion, Trad Wife wants to show Chad Dad just how impressed she was with his act of valor earlier in the day.

"Watching you hurl that bobcat, it made me wet down there" Trad Wife whispers in the ear of Chad Dad before she descends between his legs and begins performing an act that is usually reserved for their anniversary and his birthday.

Eighty seconds later, Trad Wife returns to eye level with Trad Dad, whom quickly thereafter lifts her from the ground and onto the bed, arranging her in the prone position. "You ain't seen nothin yet, Trad Wife." Chad Dad bellows as he proceeds to mount her like an untamed Bronco.

Once the act has been completed, the couple remain horizontal on the bed, laying there in pool of their own sweat and indulgence. Trad Wife's head rests comfortably on the chest of Chad Dad as the two struggle to regain normal breathing patterns.

"I love you, Chad Dad," she mutters softly.

"I know." Chad Dad responds firmly.

The scene fades to black.

Credits Roll.

The crowd goes wild.


This website is free, folks. Can you believe that?


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