Tuesday, August 19, 2003
YOU ARE MOLY
What herb are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
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Well I guess I'm pretty observant. How about you?
1. On a standard traffic light, is the green on the top or bottom?
2. How many states are there?
3. In which hand is the Statue of Libertyís torch?
4. What six colors are on the classic Campbellís soup label?
5. What two letters donít appear on the telephone dial? (No cheating!)
6. What two numbers on the telephone dial donít have letters by them?
7. When you walk does your left arm swing w/your right or left leg?
8. How many matches are in a standard pack?
9. On the United States flag is the top stripe red or white?
10. What is the lowest number on the FM dial?
11. Which way does water go down the drain, counter or clockwise?
12. Which way does a ďno smokingĒ signís slash run?
13. How many channels on a VHF TV dial?
14. Which side of a womenís blouse are the buttons on?
15. On a NY license plate, is New York on the top or bottom?
16. Which way do fans rotate?
17. Whose face is on a dime?
18. How many sides does a stop sign have?
19. Do books have even-numbered pages on the right or left side?
20. How many lug nuts are on a standard car wheel?
21. How many sides are there on a standard pencil?
22. Sleepy, Happy, Sneezy, Grumpy, Dopey, Doc. Whoís missing?
23. How many hot dog buns are in a standard package?
24. On which playing card is the card makerís trademark?
25. On which side of a Venetian blind is the cord that adjusts the opening between the slats?
26. On the back of a $1 bill, what is in the center?
27. There are 12 buttons on a touch tone phone. What 2 symbols bear no digits?
28. How many curves are there in the standard paper clip?
29. Does a merry-go-round turn counter or clockwise?
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Men and women both suck in different ways. I came across two blogs last week, one had a "Men Suck Week" and one had a "Women Suck Week." Delicious and true.
"I guess the easiest way to start off Male-Bashing week is to write down a list of all the ways that we suck. All the things, large and small, that not only make no sense, but often drive women into unspeakable acts like Lesbianism and starting their own television networks. Then there's Women Suck Week:
We donít always have the best hygiene, especially if we have no where to go and no women are coming over.
I know this because my brother and I have been stewing in our own filth all day after heading out in 90 degree weather to play sand volleyball. Itís now 10:30, and neither of us have showered since then. Eewww.
We play video games. A lot.
Weíre known to be late to important events like parties, weddings, and church because we havenít finished the latest version of Bond, or Halo, or Mario Brothers. We stay up late and then are too tired to make love or work hard or go out or even eat dinner because weíre stuffing chips in our face the whole seven hours weíre working on one level of Zelda.
We donít dance.
Any guy who dances is just trying to sleep with you, and if he dances after he starts dating you or he is an especially good dancer than heís a no-good cheater, because no man dances unless heís trying to get the hook-up with the hoochie. Really. No man dances, or pretty much does anything remotely interesting unless heís trying to impress a woman. Really. And thatís just disgusting and round.
We forget Birthdays and Anniversaries.
Thereís no reason for this but pure laziness and mean spiritedness. This isnít like forgetting Arbor Day or Motherís Day. Birthdays and anniversaries are important. And itís not like we have a good excuse. Entire industries pop up to help up remember these days. Itís the reasons Calendars were invented. I assure you some Assyrian calenderologist started his job because his wife wanted a way to mark the passage of time with him. Thereís no excuse for forgetting these days. Think of it this way Ė has he ever forgot his own birthday? As I said Ė guys suck.
We pretend weíre dumber than we are.
When it comes to birthdays, money, hints on what you whether or not you like us, or the female orgasm Ė men use ignorance as an excuse. While it is difficult to decipher the signals that women send to us, most of the time weíre pretending we donít know what youíre saying because youíre more likely to forgive us for being stupid than to forgive us for being mean or lazy. Seriously Ė you ever seen a man rattle off baseball statistics, or the right moves to achieve three step power move (L,L,R,R,A,B,B,A Trigger R+L, A Start)? And yet we canít seem to figure out why this number in our pocket has the name of your best friend and lipstick on it. Right Ė we have no idea how that happened.
Weíre cheap when it comes to spending money on you, but will spend thousands on big screens, stereos, and hair gel.
How tough is it for a man to occasionally buy a woman something nice? We make all this noise about spending money when we go out, but whose the one that orders sixteen shots for his friends and complains about buying you two Ketel One and tonics? You order a $9.00 pasta dish with a side salad. He orders a $27.00 steak, a $10.00 appetizer, and two bottles of $30.00 wine, then tips 25% because the waitress kept leaning over him with her breasts to add pepper. And he complains about spending money on you? He pays for that worthless friend of his all the time, but asks you to buy your ticket to Terminator 3. Terminator 3? Like that was your choice.
Weíre always saying inappropriate things.
We make fart jokes. We talk about how hot your mother or sister is, and then wonít let it go. We bring up the baseball game we want to watch when youíre nibbling on our neck. We make comments about how silly women are spending money on clothing and hair the day you spent $200 at the salon and look fabulous. When youíre talking about who you would sleep with if you were not together Ė you say Colin Farrell and he says the girl who works in his office. When you say the night was perfect, and you really had a good time, he laughs and says, ďIf we only had women jumping on trampolines.Ē Stupid or no, we just donít seem to say the right things. Except Rock Stars. When they sing.
We watch cartoons. Stupid cartoons. About people who can fly and wear tights and the women are all huge breasted and thin waisted who have all these secret lives and silly stories. And theyíre CARTOONS! Like CHILDREN watch! Grow up you silly monkeys!
There are no television shows where fat women sit around in dirty clothes, rip out farts, tell bad jokes, and ogle bare chested buff members of the opposite sex. Every show for men is like this. Every stupid one.
We have no problem spending hours a day reading and writing on our websites, but we seem to have a problem picking up a phone and calling you to ask you how your day was.
Amount of time it takes him to get ready for nice dinner party... 10 minutes
Time you spend laying out the right clothes and fixing his hair when he reports he is ready... 7 minutes.
Time you spend nagging him into dressing up nicely for the party...8 minutes.
Amount of time it takes you to get ready for nice dinner party... 3 hours.
Amont of money you spend on hair, new make-up, new outfit, and nails..$280
Amount of money he spends...$6 for new razor blades.
Number of compliments you receive when you are finally ready to go... 1/2 (Does You look fine, we can go count as a half?)
Number of compliments you receive at party for looking nice... 2
Number of compliments he receives at party for cleaning up nicely... (12 and counting).
Hello Everybody! Mister Obvious here to help out my friend the Yeti with Men Suck week. Iím here to talk about gift-giving. And Iím here to talk about jewelry. The shiny, pretty, expensive little and not so little trinkets and bracelets and necklaces and earrings and rings that you crave like a crack monkey in need of crack, but only seem to get from guys that excite you as much as pile of mud in the rain.
Why is that? Why does Gomer buy you a diamond necklace when Jackson canít seem to understand that a cheerio with a lifesaver is a clever joke but isnít something you can show your friends? Donít they understand what jewelry is to a woman?
Thatís why I, Mister Obvious, am here.
Jewelry is not about the money itís worth. Diamonds are artificially inflated in price by a cartel. Theyíre a rip-off. But the money spent on a diamond and the size of the ring and setting is a signal, a way of keeping score with the other women. Have you ever heard the saying that the only gaudy ring is on another womanís finger? Thatís because buying jewelry, especially a ring, is not about a manís relationship with a woman. Itís about her relationship with her friends. Itís about showing her friends that the man she chooses to be with values her when sheís not around. Jewelry is the way to do this, because there is no doubt when a man buys a woman jewelry, that he is willing to invest his money in her. Itís not a stock, or a house, or anything he can recoup. It also loses a lot of its value. Heís saying heís willing to spend money on her, and itís something she can show her friends.
Everything besides an engagement ring is gravy. It reinforces the basic idea, but the ring is what itís all about. A kiss on the hand may seem quite continental, but Diamonds are a girls best friend.
Men suck because they donít understand this. They just donít think in terms of gift-giving. This is the same problem with birthdays, anniversaries, Valentineís Day, and any special occasion Ė whether a promotion, a lifestyle change, or just a simple thank you. Women know they are going to suffer a terrible burden to raise their children, both in their bodies and in their freedom. They test men with gifts, because they want to know that they are treasured. Because they receive so much support from other women, jewelry and gifts in general help them understand they are making the right choice in the man.
Men are stupid when it comes to this. They are oblivious, and even the wisdom of Mister Obvious wonít help. The Yeti, despite his years of study and contemplation deep in the mountains, fails this test. He used to suggest that a 30 year bond or mortgage made more sense than a ring. Said if a woman could stick with him for 30 years, then she deserved the house. But he sucks, being a man.
Christmas two years ago. His lovely and talented girlfriend spends two months amassing a horde of presents for him that were particularly well suited for him. It was her superpower. In return, he buys her a bear, a card, and a $800 handmade ox dresser made of cherrywood. Beautiful, but tragically, not available for Christmas. To make sure he has something when they exchange gifts, he buys an exact replica of the dresser, 1/100th the size, as a jewelry box for his girlfriend. Her roommates and a friend happen to be in the living room when they are exchanging the gifts Ė he with his card, bear, and one wrapped present, her with a U-Haul trailer that fits two rooms. His wrapped gift is the last present opened.
Her friends see the wood, and let out a tiny exclamation of surprise. A jewelry box?
The Yeti is proud. He has done well. ďIt is an exact replica of the dresser I purchased for us for our apartment in February.Ē
The Girlfriend claps her hand and smiles, letting out a little cry of happiness. The Yeti smiles. ďIsnít it perfect, he asks?Ē
She opens the first drawer on the jewelry box, the one on the top left. She shuts it, then opens the drawer on the too right.
The Yeti says, ďNo, see, itís a replica of the dresser I bought for our apartment.Ē
She opens up two more drawers, and closes them.
The Yeti says, ďSweetie, itís a replica - for February. We donít have a place to put it until February.Ē
Two more drawers. The Yeti looks around, pleading, ďIt will be ready in two weeks, and youíll see. It looks exactly the same. Even the handles.Ē
The last two drawers are opened, and closed. Silence fills the room. The Girlfriend starts at the bottom and opens every drawer in reverse order. Thereís nothing in the jewelry box. She looks up at the Yeti, wondering if heís hiding something in his pocket, or behind his back. He says, ďItís a replica.Ē
She forces a wan smile on her face. ďItís wonderful honey. Thank you.í
Her friends look on in disapproval. Men suck.
1) Men suck because someone convinced them that women will still find them attractive if they add a belly that would do an eight month pregnant woman proud. And yet they still get to have sex.
2) They donít seem capable of using their brains in bed to fulfill a womanís fantasy needs, but going to a strip club to pay some strumpet with kids hundreds of dollars to rub up against them and call them sugar is a perfectly justified use of time and money? Why would a man go out and pay to get teased when he has a beautiful, sexy, woman at home that would dress up like a schoolgirl and stay after school to clean the chalkboard for Professor Playboy? Because they suck.
3) Two words Ė Hairy testicles. Donít be dirty about that. Men are not cool. Thatís all Iím going to say.
4) Dutch ovens, Mushroom tatties, Chili Dogs, Smoking Dragons, Donkey Punches, and a Dirty Sanchez. Only men would come up with these things.
5) Men suck because they look good with short hair, and it takes ten seconds and some hair product to make them look good all day, in every weather.
6) Men suck because drycleaners and mechanics donít take advantage of them.
7) Men suck because if they want to, they can have one orgasm and go to sleep while you sit there with your Eurovibe 2000 wondering if a jury of women would convict you.
8) Men suck because when they hear a woman ďfears intimacy and being alone,Ē they automatically assume they should ignore her because they wonít be getting laid. HELLO! Thatís exactly what the woman is trying to get you to do. Idiot! You suck!
9) Man is having a bad mood? He says itís just the way he is, and youíre supposed to put up with it. Woman having a bad mood? Take your pick of reasons why, but donít say them out loud if you ever want to have sex again.
10) Men suck because the sexiest ones with buns of steel write about their relationships and women on these silly little online journals called blogs, and if he would only give his phone number out, all the sexy little mamas could call him when they get lonely and he could fly there on his magicÖletís skip that one."
"Why Women Suck: a few more quick ones before I wrap this upSo true. I have to confess I've done a few of those things. No I won't say which ones.
We're offended by wolf-whistles. We're even more offended when no one whistles. Which results in guys making this pained, strangled, gurgling noise (actually, not unlike at a wedding).
We play the "but I'm a girl" card whenever we can. Changing a tire. Carting out six-day-old garbage that leaks. You know, oogy stuff.
Childbirth stories. In graphic detail. Over supper. With first-time pregnant mothers ready to pass out, and single women telling their guys they can forget about ever having sex again.
We fake it. Then tell you.
We wear enough perfume to be classified as a WMD.
We want men to be all sensitive and emotional and react like women do, so we can understand them. But then we bitch when they're pussified.
We can get sex any time we want. And we know it.
We ask what you do, what car you drive and where you live, right out of the gate. It's only because we're ladies that we don't just request a copy of last year's income tax return.
We use sex as a weapon. When that doesn't work, we throw cast iron pans. Grab her to try to stop her and she'll have you for domestic violence. And don't even get me started on false rape allegations!! (Just a side note: Does anyone else ever see a similarity between the women who manipulate the law and the young hellion kids who terrorize their family with blackmail threats of falsely claimed child abuse?)
Fuzzy toilet seat covers.
PMS... a convenient excuse available for our use, all month long.
Crocodile tears. Why do you think we invented waterproof mascara?
We'll refuse to let you carry something for us because it implies that we're not physically capable of doing it ourselves. Unless it's actually work or something gross smelling, then we'll ask you with batted eyelashes and get pissed if you refuse.
We want to be surprised with flowers and jewelry and other gifts, and we'll whine when we aren't. But when was the last time we surprised you with flowers or jewelry? Or something equally meaningful and romantic -- like a six-pack, game tickets and a quickie before you go? We're so selfish and materialistic.
"No, really, what's wrong?"
"If you don't know then I'm not going to tell you!"
"I just want to be friends," or, "I think of you as my brother." Unless she's married or gay, these can be cruel.
You get out of the shower smelling sweet and clean and hug her from behind with a whispered suggestion... and she shoots you down cold because she wasn't in the mood. Two hours later the game is on and she strips in front of the TV, then gets pissed when you look around her. NOW?? Not only do women suck, the timing chains on their sexual and biological clocks are seriously screwed up too.
We let little things fester and have memories like elephants. That comment about my mother you made on April 12, 1987? Yeah, that'll come back to haunt you - trust me.
We complain about all your silly little adolescent toys and hobbies... as we head off to the Craft Barn to buy more material and raffia to make corn dolls for the country theme in the foyer, to the mall to buy shoes because those pink ones with the bows are just too darling, and to the exclusive Tea House to giggle and chat with our girlfriends.
The whole "men are pigs" is so old. We claim to be the more creative and intelligent of the genders, but we're still using a clichť from before the bra-burning ages. Even ignoring the total inaccuracy of it for a moment, can we at least try to come up with something a little more progressive?
We either: a) publicly ridicule men mercilessly, thereby earning us high-fives and "hell ya, sister"s from our female peers... then privately assure men that it was all an act; or we b) publicly ridicule women, thereby earning us the lust and smittenness of men everywhere who dare to dream that one woman may possibly, perhaps, could it be true, not be out for male blood... then privately laugh with our "sisters" about the gullibility of men.
We pay several thousand dollars for great-looking breasts, dress to show them off, then act offended when men stare at them.
We sue and fight and whine our way into wonderful, traditional, male only clubs, teams, and organizations, just to prove that we can. Then we set up all sorts of women's only groups so we can get together and bitch about discrimination and how men try to oppress us.
Guys are often forced to hide skin magazines in their briefcases and surf for porn at work because their wives/girlfriends feel images of naked women are insulting and degrading. But then we go out of our way to publicly out-do men when it comes to dirty jokes, language, and sexual raunchiness, just to prove that we're not prudes. Which makes one wonder -- just who is it that's bringing the most insult and degradation to the female gender?"
Though there is one particular form of suckitude that I refuse to apologize for. I'm not into traditional sex-roles where housework is concerned except for one thing. It is absolutely the man's job to take out the garbage, that's just the way it is. I have no idea where that came from. My parents didn't do it that way. I'm not squeamish, and I'm more into traditionally manly stuff than he is. I don't play the "But I'm a girl" card. But the garbage is just his job.
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