Knee Bone Connected to the Thigh Bone

Hedy Lamarr

The male predilection for tinkering with the mechanisms of things fails in the face of women. More than that, it’s an epic fail. Any quest to deconstruct the feminine and thereby figure out what makes her tick is a flawed endeavour.

And how do I know this, you ask?

Easy enough. I know that there is no Unified Theory of Women because women tell me that they don’t understand women. If ladies, with their multi-spectrum super intuitive lightning fast universal processing minds can’t quite nail their own kind, what hope men?

I’ll answer that: None.

And that’s good news for two reasons. The first is that men are not interested in figuring out women for completely altruistic reasons. We pursue understanding for understanding’s sake, but a part of us wants to know so we can manipulate you.

The second reason is that women are eternally fascinating to us precisely because you’re nebulous. That we are forever unable to quite claim that we truly know even one woman is immensely attractive. We return to you because of your mystery.

Mindfulness

Happy wife, happy life.

Because nothing rhymes with husband.

Wombat, 2015.

 

In many couples a kind of resigned mismatch of power lingers way too often. We see this in the monotony of daily life reflected in simmering resentment and thoughts of unfulfilled dreams. This kind of coupling looks from the outside to be more about toleration of the other than delight in him or her.

The fault – and I believe it is a fault – lies with both parties. Coupling is a garden that needs watering, fertilizing(!) and weeding. Coupling requires imagination. Coupling requires energy.

Let we men begin to regain a vibrant coupling feel by changing one thing. Men have a reputation for being less interested in cleaning the house than women. That’s probably accurate. But dopey men don’t realize how powerful is the act of cleaning before their wife does it.

You will note the bolded, italicized and underlined critical element here. Men, don’t wait for your lady to take out the bucket and sponge. Be mindful, proactive and useful by being the initiator. Find a way to motivate yourself to do this every day. Cleaning/vacuuming/polishing/tidying should be your habit, and here’s the kicker: Women. Think. Men. Who. Clean. Are. Sexy.

There. Watch how her opinion of you changes before your eyes. If that doesn’t get you on your knees in the bathroom, you are truly beyond help.

Men: Podcast #18

Men are simple, loveable creatures with whom women can thrive in harmony. Or they’re competitive dicks without hope of redemption. Somewhere out there lies the truth.

None So Blind

Famous people wriggle their way into our consciousness. Take this Tiger Woods person, an allegedly skilled golfist.

Sidebar: Let’s get this straight. He is a grown male whose centi-millionaire status derives from using sticks to hit a small ball into a hole. Yeah, this is an example we can emulate.

End sidebar.

Mr Woods’ wife and mother of his two small children divorced him sometime within the last few years. Throughout his marriage he undertook sexual assignations with women not his wife, both away from and at home. Famously – even I know this – he had sex with a waitress who worked his local breakfast joint, right under his wife’s nose.

We need not resort to amateur psychology here; he figured he could indulge any of his sexual whims at any time. This is not “sexual addiction”. This is lack of character. It is also a life lived without self control.

Then along comes another woman, Miss Vonn. She sees something in Mr Woods, and takes up with him. Does she:

a) Think he was wrongfully accused of being a cheat?

b) Believe his character is improved after his divorce?

c) Consider herself better able to keep his attention?

d) Blinded by fame, money and attention?

e) All of the above?

No-one but Miss Vonn can answer these questions, but one thing for certain is that she figured she was different from all the other women. Exceptional. Special. Able to make Mr Woods a better man. She was the one to tame him.

Once a man of bad character, always a man of bad character. No-one can change that but the dude.

Romance This

Swept off her feet

The standard way to begin a post about romance is to quote a dictionary definition or some authority on the subject. That’s fine but pointless. It’s pointless because only one half of the population has any kind of grasp on romance, and that’s the half with a vagina. For those of us not so equipped, we can most charitably be described as delayed development romantics. Romantic retards, really.

Romance, to males, is that way of acting that creates a positive disposition towards us in the female we desire. The level of positive disposition will vary, naturally, from mild interest to unfettered lust. We hope for the latter, but accept the former. Whatever reaction we engender, it’s all an amorphous universe of trial and error with no clear rules and even murkier techniques.

Which leads me to an attempt to describe just how much of a mystery romance is to guys. We know there is such a thing as romantic behavior, which we think involves roses and candles. Somewhere in the mix is the notion of sweeping women off their feet, however one accomplishes that. Maybe romance is like an English period novel, full of meaningful glances. Perhaps we should aim for an Audrey Hepburn film-like experience on, for instance, a Vespa through Rome. By chance might it be all be about break-ups and reconciliations?

Arggh. It’s all so difficult, so tricky to pin down.

Here’s a thought: Guys, ask the question. As (at least) a dating conversation-starter, subtly inquire of your lady friend how she defines romance. Take careful note of the answer, and file it away for later. Let me know how that works.