So...you come here often?
*Please be aware, this is humour*
I was shouted, screamed, roared and glared at by an emotional woman today. Apparently us men don't appreciate the female mind, body and emotional cycle. We are insensitive. We are harsh. We are stupid and if we didn't have sperm we would be thrown in a pit to die at birth. We piss on the floor. We have disgusting bodily functions. We have disgusting bodily appendages that rule our minds. We smell.
She threw the book of clichs at me and the corner hit me in the eye.
All I asked was "are you alright?".
So men don't appreciate the biology of a woman then? We don't understand the female mind, a womans needs?
I had to ask, do women understand us? How about our emotional wellbeing? Our minds?
For the most part, no.
We're labeled simple. Stupid. Sport loving, beer swilling idiots. If we're not, we're probably closet gay.
Yet we get harassed when we don't know what she's thinking. When we can't anticipate exactly what she want's to hear. When they only clues are folded arms, a grimace and a hyperactivly tapping foot.
Case 1. She acts distant. You go to her to see if she's ok. You want to make it better,whatever the fuck it is. You get screamed at, she needs her space. Cant you see that? You withdraw, bloody, bruised and relegated to the fouton.
Case 2. Shes distant again, you leave her alone. Once bitten. You get screamed at, cant you see she's calling out for loving attention?! Men know NOTHING!
It's not our fault, it's not womens fault. None of us are mind readers. We have no experience of being the opposite sex. How the hell would we? Hormones and sex changes? Last time I checked you don't get a uterus when they ram your nob inside you. You don't get testicles when they surgically alter your vagaina.
What it boils down to is people can be shit. They deal shit. They take shit.
It's a regular shit-fest out there.
So that's what I told her. I told her to lay the hell off. I told her to cop the fuck on. I told her to deal with whatever it is thats bugging her and to not place it on me.
If it's some guy, punch him. If it's some girl, slap her. Take some control and don't resort to clichs.
We piss on the floor? You piss on the seat. Have you ever tried to urinate using a penis? Do you
think its a simple stop-start motion? Do you think our cocks have a laser sight for accuracy?
It's guess work. It's vauge and for the most part we get it right. We do it well. We kick fucking ass in hitting various targets with a powerful bearly controlable stream and a unidirctional nozzle.
Our abilities should be marveled at. It should be wondered.
It's time for a fucking celebration people.
We have disgusting bodily functions? I've known girls who could gas a concentration camp.
I've known girls who've rendered the bathroom a level 4 bio-hazard.
I've known girls who would rather sit in their unwashed pyjamas, still reeking of alcohol and vomit from the night before, eat pringles and belch while complaning they can't get a man.
It's all human biology and you're just as guilty as us. Oh wait, no. I forgot. Women only excreete pot pourri and extrude healing nourishing mystical oils.
We are insensitive? Two weeks ago I was in my friends apartment and his girlfriends best friend walks in and pipes up "So Kieth, I hear you couldn't get it up last night".
As if he had trouble screwing some shelving into place.
We are harsh? Working with a large gaggle of women I noticed their ritual of picking apart every man around for fun.
"He's probably got a tiny penis, his hands are small"
"He's not got enough money"
"He's too good looking"
...how the fuck can you be too good looking?!.
We have disgusting bodily appendages?
Listen the female form may be celbrated for it's beauty, but that's more of a "highlights reel". The best bits. The purest examples, with the flaws glossed over.
You would cast our repoductive organs in such a bad light? The last time I checked your's resembled more an axe wound than a peach. More a hairy, one eye'd man winking at you, than a glorious glistening temple of flesh.
Listen. Learn to love it all. Everything. If you can't look at it with the lights on, then you dont deserve it. Play the hand you were delt. It's nature and it's not going anywhere.
And the next girl who says "I don't like to look at it" or "I don't want to touch it" or even the classic "it's a horrible thing but I forgive you for it" (yes I got them all), I'm kicking them out of the bed and throwing them out the door.
Butt-fucking-naked.
And our penis rules our minds? Pot paging kettle. You're 'cycle' rules not only your heads but your hearts too.
You prefer tough guys, harsher guys, a mans man when you're ovulating. Then you want the softer guy, the more feminie featured nice fella after. You want to fuck a bad boy and have the pussy raise the kids. How nice is that?
You have a cloud of hormones running through you most of the time. And you deal with it. You usually deal with it well. And we admire that. Sometimes you break down into a ball of choclate-eating-pyjama-wearing-greasy-shouting-sobbing-insanity, but we don't mind. It's not like you can help it.
We don't hold it against you. So don't hold it against us. We're just as much slaves to our hormones. To our baser instincts. That little voice thats shouting "fuck, screw, shag, get your genes out there man! Doooo ittttt! RAaarARaAwaAaaaaAaaaaaa".
Again, it's not like we can help it.
We're all in this together
And we smell?
Excuse me but I reek of nothing but shower gel and expensive aftershave on occasions. Most guys I know don't pong. They don't whiff, reek or hum. They are not in possession of what you might call a malodour. You get the odd weirdo, the shower-avoiding-bath-dodging-greasy-haired-whiff-factory. But it's usually loonies. And there are plenty of those, of both sexes (and even some who are a bizzare, undefinable mess, possibly another classifcation altogether).
I have to admit. This was all somewhat...defensive. But I was backed into the corner on this. I feared for my life. And my balls.
I was expecting to get mangled any second.
It was either grab a chair, thrust it wildly in front of me and fight my way to the door. Or this.
And since she's "remodling the room to resemble a japaniese bordello" (whatever the fuck that looks like, though it certainly doesn't look like her room. For one there are no half naked japanise prostitutes. Something which I would be interestd to see listed in the Ikea catalogue) there was a distinct lact of chairs.
There were, however, about 43 pairs of neatly placed shoes.
I avoided talking about this as it is a mine field in the gender wars. You could be totting along, with the moral high ground and BOOOM, your legs get taken off and you need your buddy to drag you, bleeding and hemorrhaging from the field....your legs left limply lying there, your new Nike's and all.
So the options were pelt her with her own shoes or rant.
So I ranted.
There was less chance of her being maimed by a stiletto or me being mortally wounded by a woman defending her shoe collection.
And it cheered her up. It made her laugh. It saved my fucking ass.
Thank god for half-crazed-manic rants.
*Please be aware, this is humour*
I was shouted, screamed, roared and glared at by an emotional woman today. Apparently us men don't appreciate the female mind, body and emotional cycle. We are insensitive. We are harsh. We are stupid and if we didn't have sperm we would be thrown in a pit to die at birth. We piss on the floor. We have disgusting bodily functions. We have disgusting bodily appendages that rule our minds. We smell.
She threw the book of clichs at me and the corner hit me in the eye.
All I asked was "are you alright?".
So men don't appreciate the biology of a woman then? We don't understand the female mind, a womans needs?
I had to ask, do women understand us? How about our emotional wellbeing? Our minds?
For the most part, no.
We're labeled simple. Stupid. Sport loving, beer swilling idiots. If we're not, we're probably closet gay.
Yet we get harassed when we don't know what she's thinking. When we can't anticipate exactly what she want's to hear. When they only clues are folded arms, a grimace and a hyperactivly tapping foot.
Case 1. She acts distant. You go to her to see if she's ok. You want to make it better,whatever the fuck it is. You get screamed at, she needs her space. Cant you see that? You withdraw, bloody, bruised and relegated to the fouton.
Case 2. Shes distant again, you leave her alone. Once bitten. You get screamed at, cant you see she's calling out for loving attention?! Men know NOTHING!
It's not our fault, it's not womens fault. None of us are mind readers. We have no experience of being the opposite sex. How the hell would we? Hormones and sex changes? Last time I checked you don't get a uterus when they ram your nob inside you. You don't get testicles when they surgically alter your vagaina.
What it boils down to is people can be shit. They deal shit. They take shit.
It's a regular shit-fest out there.
So that's what I told her. I told her to lay the hell off. I told her to cop the fuck on. I told her to deal with whatever it is thats bugging her and to not place it on me.
If it's some guy, punch him. If it's some girl, slap her. Take some control and don't resort to clichs.
We piss on the floor? You piss on the seat. Have you ever tried to urinate using a penis? Do you
think its a simple stop-start motion? Do you think our cocks have a laser sight for accuracy?
It's guess work. It's vauge and for the most part we get it right. We do it well. We kick fucking ass in hitting various targets with a powerful bearly controlable stream and a unidirctional nozzle.
Our abilities should be marveled at. It should be wondered.
It's time for a fucking celebration people.
We have disgusting bodily functions? I've known girls who could gas a concentration camp.
I've known girls who've rendered the bathroom a level 4 bio-hazard.
I've known girls who would rather sit in their unwashed pyjamas, still reeking of alcohol and vomit from the night before, eat pringles and belch while complaning they can't get a man.
It's all human biology and you're just as guilty as us. Oh wait, no. I forgot. Women only excreete pot pourri and extrude healing nourishing mystical oils.
We are insensitive? Two weeks ago I was in my friends apartment and his girlfriends best friend walks in and pipes up "So Kieth, I hear you couldn't get it up last night".
As if he had trouble screwing some shelving into place.
We are harsh? Working with a large gaggle of women I noticed their ritual of picking apart every man around for fun.
"He's probably got a tiny penis, his hands are small"
"He's not got enough money"
"He's too good looking"
...how the fuck can you be too good looking?!.
We have disgusting bodily appendages?
Listen the female form may be celbrated for it's beauty, but that's more of a "highlights reel". The best bits. The purest examples, with the flaws glossed over.
You would cast our repoductive organs in such a bad light? The last time I checked your's resembled more an axe wound than a peach. More a hairy, one eye'd man winking at you, than a glorious glistening temple of flesh.
Listen. Learn to love it all. Everything. If you can't look at it with the lights on, then you dont deserve it. Play the hand you were delt. It's nature and it's not going anywhere.
And the next girl who says "I don't like to look at it" or "I don't want to touch it" or even the classic "it's a horrible thing but I forgive you for it" (yes I got them all), I'm kicking them out of the bed and throwing them out the door.
Butt-fucking-naked.
And our penis rules our minds? Pot paging kettle. You're 'cycle' rules not only your heads but your hearts too.
You prefer tough guys, harsher guys, a mans man when you're ovulating. Then you want the softer guy, the more feminie featured nice fella after. You want to fuck a bad boy and have the pussy raise the kids. How nice is that?
You have a cloud of hormones running through you most of the time. And you deal with it. You usually deal with it well. And we admire that. Sometimes you break down into a ball of choclate-eating-pyjama-wearing-greasy-shouting-sobbing-insanity, but we don't mind. It's not like you can help it.
We don't hold it against you. So don't hold it against us. We're just as much slaves to our hormones. To our baser instincts. That little voice thats shouting "fuck, screw, shag, get your genes out there man! Doooo ittttt! RAaarARaAwaAaaaaAaaaaaa".
Again, it's not like we can help it.
We're all in this together
And we smell?
Excuse me but I reek of nothing but shower gel and expensive aftershave on occasions. Most guys I know don't pong. They don't whiff, reek or hum. They are not in possession of what you might call a malodour. You get the odd weirdo, the shower-avoiding-bath-dodging-greasy-haired-whiff-factory. But it's usually loonies. And there are plenty of those, of both sexes (and even some who are a bizzare, undefinable mess, possibly another classifcation altogether).
I have to admit. This was all somewhat...defensive. But I was backed into the corner on this. I feared for my life. And my balls.
I was expecting to get mangled any second.
It was either grab a chair, thrust it wildly in front of me and fight my way to the door. Or this.
And since she's "remodling the room to resemble a japaniese bordello" (whatever the fuck that looks like, though it certainly doesn't look like her room. For one there are no half naked japanise prostitutes. Something which I would be interestd to see listed in the Ikea catalogue) there was a distinct lact of chairs.
There were, however, about 43 pairs of neatly placed shoes.
I avoided talking about this as it is a mine field in the gender wars. You could be totting along, with the moral high ground and BOOOM, your legs get taken off and you need your buddy to drag you, bleeding and hemorrhaging from the field....your legs left limply lying there, your new Nike's and all.
So the options were pelt her with her own shoes or rant.
So I ranted.
There was less chance of her being maimed by a stiletto or me being mortally wounded by a woman defending her shoe collection.
And it cheered her up. It made her laugh. It saved my fucking ass.
Thank god for half-crazed-manic rants.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
You get full marks for ranting.
~cheers