|
| |
|
“Will you put that stupid Dilbert book away!” - Wife Number One, on our honeymoon
|
| |
|
|
|

-
I was talking with a friend the other day and he suddenly turned to me and said, "Do you smell that?" My instinctive reaction was to say, "It wasn't me,"…
-
Yesterday, someone asked me how my day was. I took a few seconds and then told them, "Pretty good, got a lot done. Yep, it was a pretty good day." …
-
Let's pretend for a moment that history was different, or that Dan Brown and the conspiracy theorists were right. Let's play with the idea that Jesus married Mary Magdelene. All…
-
In the American South, we are raised with manners as a matter of breeding. We are taught to hold open doors for complete strangers, help those in need and say…
-
My normal breakfast consists of scarfing down a Pop Tart on my way to the office in the morning. Usually because I'm too lazy to fix something healthy to eat.
-
The Original Rudolph BookletThe song of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer dates from 1939, when the Chicago-based Montgomery Ward company asked one of their copywriters to come up with a Christmas…
-
Who the hell's he talking to?No, this isn't about a stupid cell phone commercial where a chubby geeky guy walks around saying the stupid catch-phrase into a dummy phone. (Side…
-
It's as simple as that. This article could end right now and you'd all know what I meant without me having to go into it. But where's the fun in…
-
It's every humor writer's goal to write humor that is not only funny, but lasts a lifetime. A good humorist strives to make his experiences in life relatable and enjoyable…
-
Cross-Pollinating with Sarah The Crazy Baby Mama ...
See my post "The Agent Who Laughed Himself To Death" at her blog today!
Desperate Times<...
|
|
| |
|
Written by Ross Cavins
|
|
Thursday, 30 August 2007 05:49 |
|
That pretty much sums up the thought patterns of a typical American man. Oh sure, there are males who think differently, but this is what American MEN think about 90% of the time.
I've preached this a thousand times but it's so true. It's designed in our genetic code. Most of our thoughts can be broken down into one or more of the above building blocks. Beer, Sports and Porn.
Beer covers everything to do with food and beverages. If it's a hamburger, we're thinking of that Heineken we'll have with it. If we've opted for a Diet Coke instead, we're still pretending it's a brew. Even if you don't see a drink, we're wishing we had one.
Parties = beer. Dinner = beer. Dinner Parties = beer.
 Beer, Sports and Porn. Sports covers all things physical and anything competitive or we might bet on. It could be a friendly bet, a monetary bet or a bet for who buys the next round. Our team, your team, their team. It makes no difference. From chess to football to rubber ducky regattas, it all comes under sports.
Porn consumes as much as 80% of our thoughts at any given time. Even if we're thirsty for a beer at a sports game, we're thinking of porn. Porn in the form of sex, internet pictures, spying on the neighbor sunbathing topless, checking out every woman in every room every day of our waking lives. Cleavage is a big part of this. The well-known study says that men think of sex on average of every three minutes.
Wrong. Try twenty-eight seconds. I timed it.
If we're around a female, we're thinking about it. Constantly.
What would she look like with no shirt? No pants? In garters? Sitting down? With knee socks? With her hair up? Picking up that paper she just dropped? With a beer in her hand and no bra on? With pigtails? With a riding crop?
It doesn't matter if she's butt-ugly or super sexy, eighteen or fifty-eight, we can't help but think these things. It's not a conscious decision, these thoughts just pop in there and it happens so much we don't even realize it.
We could meet a perfect stranger in a business setting and before we've shaken hands, we've undressed her and tried out three positions. And it is a proven fact: men and women can't just be friends.
Oh, women can, but men can't. We think about our friend-girls like that more than our girlfriends. We crave the unattainable and fantasize constantly about what-if scenarios.
Bosses? Subordinates? Co-workers? Fuhgedd-about-it.
They're all fair game for our mental undressing. It's not a pathological habit, it's genetically coded into every fiber of our being. It's somewhere on the Y chromosome; we'll find it one day.
Beer, sports and porn.
Once a woman accepts all this, she is on her way to being at ease around men. They are constants and should be treated as such, because like death and taxes (and peanut butter), they will always be there.
|
|
| |
 |

|
|
|
|