Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
For the past three years or so I’ve had a superhero living in my head called Shushman. Being an object of fantasy, Shushman is extraordinarily flexible, gaining a brand new superpower every time someone in real life does something to cheese me off. At first, all he could do was throw down an Invisible-Girl-type of soundproof bubble over things that made noise…like a television set with a commercial four times louder than the program it was interrupting, or a convertible with the top down and the boom-boom-chicka-boom music blaring out of its speakers. It will come as no great shock that merely silencing said convertibles was not a satisfactory arrangement for too long, and Shushman acquired the power to disable engines very soon afterward.
One of my blogger friends let loose with a pet peeve over at the Hello Kitty of Blogging about people ordering vast amounts of food at the drive through and tying up the line. It gave me cause to think about the last time Shushman acquired a new superpower (someone did something to piss me off)…just a few weeks ago. I hadn’t written about it at the time.
Shushman can use telekinesis to revoke “man-cards.” It’s an idea whose time has come.
We have this franchise out here that whips up fresh smoothies while you watch them. This is promoted as a kind of a health food, which is a claim with lots of pros and cons I’ll not try to examine here. The drinks do seem to have a lot of sweetening for something upon which you’d rely as a diet staple…but they do pack a lot of vitamins and electrolytes and other things you need to have replenished if you’re out riding a bike or something.
Well, the place also sells health bars. They’re positioned, insidiously, at eye-height to a child…which is a purest form of evil. But anyway, there’s like four, five, six or more flavors of the things. I’m waiting my turn in line and the guy in front of me is still in the middle of his order — he whips out a flip phone. Not a candy-bar phone, but a clamshell, the kind little girls talk on. Which is fine…to each their own…but…
He waits for someone to pick up on the other end and reads off the six flavors of health bar to this person. He can’t see me, but I’m still doing everything I can to suppress a massive eyeball roll. And then he reads them again because the other person was not paying attention. He complets the phone call, then completes the order, the guy at the cash register says “all right, will that be all?” and the customer says “I hope so.”
Aiiieeeggh!!! Balls. Whatever happened to ’em?
In my mind’s eye, Shushman points and there is a barely audible sound, like a mosquito flying into a bug zapper. The man card disappears, and nobody will ever notice anyway…
Back in reality, though, seriously. Seriously. Get to know what your lady likes…and if you can’t do that, get to know what she can’t stand. Then order for her…KEEP…THE LINE…MOVING. If she doesn’t like what you picked out, shrug your shoulders and remind her that if she really cared you wouldn’t have been put on the spot like that. This is a perfect solution for the worst case scenario — it is only needed for the worst case, remember. If it still isn’t good enough for her, the she was never good enough for you.
Some days, I seriously think there must be an enormous ancient flying saucer, or meteor, or mineral deposit buried under Folsom that shrinks balls.
They only moved the tombstones, those sons-of-bitches, they only moved the tombstones.
Update: On the subject of male-female relations, and men making the relationship a tougher thing to maintain by being too flexible, accommodating and mushy…you really should check out this contribution blogsister Daphne made to that subject a couple days ago.
I’m not going nearly as far as Cyrano-in-the-bushes, here. I’m just saying the Good Lord didn’t put man here to be a living menu-board. Gentlemen, once you’re taking down some list of options and presenting them to your sweetie for her to pick one, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Generally, it’s a pretty fair statement to make that this isn’t what women want in a man. They don’t like doing all the choosing. If they have to do that, what do they need you for?
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
What happens when one’s man card is revoked? Automatic back-of-the-line, wait-for-it-to-die-down privileges?
- Daniel | 10/24/2010 @ 15:05As I understand it, anything that comes up that requires a man, if you don’t have a card to present you’re automatically out of the running.
That includes drudge work as well as fun stuff. Spitting on a leaf floating in a stream from a very high bridge, piloting a remote control helicopter, participating in an “All Guy” weekend camping trip, shoveling a walkway after a blizzard, writing your name in the snow, helping little old ladies across the street, squishing a spider, opening a pickle jar…bringing carnal delights to the missus…and blogging.
In sum, you are restricted to demonstrating what little manhood you have, through the drudge work cooked up for so-called “men” by women who don’t appreciate what men really are, and what they’re really supposed to do. So your manhood becomes something suitable only for re-positioning a picture on a wall while someone else tells you if you have it straight, moving a couch where someone else tells you to move it, and in bed you only do what any ol’ stuffed teddy bear would be able to do, if it maintained a temperature of 98.6.
To put it simply: Men who cannot make decisions, are not really men. And that isn’t just how I see it, that’s how women see it. Whether they say so out loud or not.
- mkfreeberg | 10/24/2010 @ 15:26[…] the Sacrifice That Counts” “Intellectual Cowardice” A Lifelong Disability… Shushman Revokes the Man Card Brown’s Lead Doubles in a Month Republic of Jenga Media Matters is the Symptom, Not the […]
- House of Eratosthenes | 10/27/2010 @ 06:28