Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Taking Questions From the Ladies

For the last few days, I have been taking questions from ladies to help bridge the gap between the sexes and to provide some understanding of the male mind.

I am well qualified to do this for 2 reasons:

1. I took a Sociology class in college
2. I have been a man for most of my adult life

This is for education and entertainment only. Please do not use any of this information for nefarious purposes. I trust you. Questions have been shortened because some of you ladies go on and on, yadda, yadda, yadda for space.

The first question comes from Jenn. She asks “What is the maximum number of words I can use with the average man before he tunes me out? I suspect it’s around 5.”

Jenn, Jenn, Jenn. Have you ever heard the Kenny Chesney song, “You had me from hello?” His attention span is that short. One word. And that is not unusual. Most men start the tuning out process at word 3. By word 5, all but the most resolute of men are hearing the teacher from the Charlie Brown cartoon.

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Good Grief


A typical conversation with me is, “Crotchety, would you mind if wahh wahh wahh wahh wahh wahh. If you toss in a few salacious words, and perhaps the mention of a food item, it may get you a few extra words. Generally, though, consider anything after 3 the bonus round.

Dani asks, “What the frig is in the remote control that a man can’t put it down?”
Dani, the need for the remote is hardwired into a man’s brain. Back when the first Caveman, Bob, sat around, he needed to have his trusty spear with him at all times. Whether hunting, or protecting his brood, Bob needed his spear at the ready. Modern man needs his remote to hunt for quality programs, and protect his family from feminine hygiene commercials.

Both Anok and Shyne were concerned with men’s seeming inability to carry their own keys, glasses, etc.
First, no way, no how, is a man ever to carry a man bag. It’s in bold print on page 11, 3rd paragraph in the Man’s Handbook. You have to just accept it, just as we accept that you say my green pants don’t go with my purple shirt.

The Get Smart Gal wants to know how men really feel about chicks who know more about sports than they do?
While I have never witnessed this phenomenon, the handbook clearly states that a man should celebrate the fact that he doesn’t have to explain to his lady for the millionth time that if the Yankees are wearing pinstripes, they are in New York, at Yankee Stadium. Or that, no, he’s never noticed how cute the running back’s butt is. And that he still wants to wear his A-Rod jersey even though A-rod may have cheated on his wife. And yes, he knows wrestling is fake. Please note, these are hypothetical scenarios, and the Crotchety Old Lady would never do that.
snicker


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Both Jeunelle and Arcticulates expressed concern that men seemingly hold on to their clothes, basically, until the last Fruit of the Loom guy is barely hanging on.
We need to go back to Bob, once again. Bob had to work pretty hard to get his clothing. He couldn’t just go to J.C. Penney’s. Oh no, he had to go and slay a dinosaur, or a bear, or something for his duds. And once you have done that, you are not about to just toss them because of some minor imperfection like a hole.

Nosireebob.

In fact, I have a T-shirt from a Milli Vanilli concert that is just a collar and one sleeve.

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While on the subject of clothing, both Dani and Anok (they were very inquisitive) wanted to know why men seemingly leave clothing haphazardly. This practice dates back to the Middle Ages. Clothing was scarce, and marauders would often ransack villages seeking it. By leaving their clothing in no discernable pattern, men would outsmart the marauders.

The last question for today comes from Jan. She wants to know why men don’t call when they promised to.

I‘ve researched this.

Back in 1914, Guy Whistlebritches met a lovely woman named Ethyl Woodmyre at the fashionable Dew Drop Inn. They exchanged numbers, and Guy promised to call later that night.

On the way home that day from the toaster factory, Guy decided he wasn’t going to call Ethyl.

Since then, well, it just kinda became a guy thing.

I’m sorry I didn’t get to all the questions. I may do a part 2 in the near future if anyone found this useful.
Thanks for stopping by, and as usual, I'm always glad to be the helpful blogger.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Getting to Know You

I’ve noticed several blogs where the authors have been answering questions about themselves. Some are in response to real questions, and some are in anticipation of questions.

Since I haven’t had an original thought since the early 1990’s, I thought I’d just follow along. Yup, if all my friends jumped off a bridge, I’d do it, too. I’m a freakin’ lemming.

So I’m about to answer that burning question that I am sure my gentle readers have. But first, if you have a burning sensation, may I suggest:
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On to the big question: What do I do all day?

I sit on the couch watching Comedy Central and either read blogs (about 50 or more per day) write blogs, and visit 3 other chatboards. I was tested a few years ago, and I read between 1500 and 2000 words per minute, depending on content, so I really do get to a lot of blogs.

And I talk to telemarketers. Oh yeah, you know all those telephone survey results that you read about, and you always wonder, “Exactly who gives all those stupid answers? What type of idiot do they interview? Who even has time for all that nonsense? Do they interview socially maladjusted shut-ins?”

Guess who always takes those calls?

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My absolute favorite thing to do is to have a telemarketer just give up.

I’ve done that a few times.

Here’s what works to really mess with a telemarketer’s head: agree to everything. At some point, the telemarketer will ask for money. This is where you try to borrow it from him. Convince the telemarketer that the deal sounds so great to you, and you are ready to move, if he could only spot you the cash.

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Lastly, Doodle Week is coming. I have a badge for it over on the side.

More information is available here: http://stickfiguregrrl.blogspot.com/

But here’s my dilemma

Not only do I want to participate in the biggest Doodle event in the history of the blogosphere , but I, sadly, have no talent.

I have created 2 incredibly mediocre stick figure doodles. They pretty much suck. Any ideas on how to make them, I don’t know, not suck so much?

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Sucky drawing #1

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Sucky drawing #2

Advice welcome.

Coming soon: Someone very special is having a birthday. Be prepared for a huge party right here. Try to guess whose birthday it will be.

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