Husbank: Has a CA.
Husburden: Has a BA.
Husbank: Will marry a trophy wife, beset with big tits and a fertile uterus to create millions of little heirs.
Husburden: Is the endless bachelor, fancies himself a bit of a Hef, probably dates five women at once, only married you because he was drunk and you were both in Vegas.
Husbank: Hangs out in the Upper Class Lounge at airports, the Saxon, the Westcliff Polo Lounge, the office.
Husburden: Hangs out at places where he can smoke a bifta without being arrested. Husburden: ridiculously good looking. Women crawl all over him like a bad rash.
Husbank: ridiculously rich. Women crawl all over him like a bad rash after they see his platinum card.
Husbank: Will turn his [trophy] spouse into a human incubating baby-making machine.
Husburden: Kids? Excuse me while my balls retract back into my urethra.
Husbank: Entitles the wife to a monthly salary that allows her to shop at Jimmy Choo, get a regular facelift, botox, a personal trainer.
Husburden: You're the breadwinner, so you'll entitle him to a salary that funds his pot habit.
Husbank: Wears suits all day long, and when trying to seduce you, will be naked barring his socks.
Husburden: Knows an awful lot of tai-chi. And administers a pounding in the sack so tactile, you can't walk for days. Husbank: Breadwinner.
Husburden: Breadloser. (No really. He leaves the bread on the bus, along with the rest of the groceries.)
Husbank: Old money.
Husburden: New money.
Husbank: Holidays in Baja. On his own yacht.
Husburden: Hitch hikes through the Transkei. When he's 63.
Husbank: Catches you fucking the pool boy and takes you to the cleaners. Thereafter changes the plates on his 5-series BMW to 'ALIMONY GP'.
Husburden: So you fucked the pool boy. Whatever.