yeah...
So, no one has yet volunteered any positive facts about men to me. Instead, this morning I had a conversation with a male friend who insisted to me that when he goes to strip clubs — which he complained that his girlfriend won't let him do, then quickly said, "Not that I'm anxious to or anything" — when he goes, he is absolutely not thinking of the women as objects, he knows that most men are, but he totally isn't, because he knew some girls in high school who later became strippers and therefore he is able to think of them as people. I'm oversimplifying his argument, the guy is actually intelligent and had some non-caveman things to say (plus he dates a sociology grad student), but I'm still in a men-hate-women-so-I-hate-them kind of mood, and I don't really feel like being fair.
Plus, this happened. In Maryland. Even in Maryland, men are penises. Is nothing sacred?
Although. Here's something nice: sometimes men have dinner ready for you when you get home from the gym.
posted by thedrymock @ 4:01 PM
5 comments
5 Comments:
Hell, we're all objects, every one of us. Little thingy meatbags, full of meat and juice. Apparently some of us walk nice with our locomotive stumps and some of us gyrate with our mammaries exposed. Meatbags, all.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Little thingy meatbags. That is fucking poetry, dude. When's your chapbook out? I am not even kidding.
Yes yes, we're all just gore on a stick. Chumbuckets, all. It's a liberating worldview, isn't it? How do you sleep at night?
Lately, all in a heap with another meatbag. I find the welter of appendages soothing.
Okay, so here's a nice thing to say about a man. Our website designer is married and has three little boys (I believe they are all under the age of five). Every three months --every three months-- his wife gets a vacation. Seriously. She gets two whole weeks to herself to go wherever and do whatever she wants, and he foots the bill. Then she comes home and spends three more months as housewife, plotting her next escape.
He is possibly the nicest guy on the planet. We loved him even before we knew about this.
All right, grudgingly, I accept this as a nice act performed by a man. Though I bristle at any implication that a man has to allow his wife to take a vacation. Even if it's reasonable in this particular circumstance. Grr.
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