Thursday, September 21, 2006

oh yeah? well, you're a bigger freak than me! infinity!


The Big House, p. 29
originally uploaded by IAAFOTS.


so i just read this over at the zero boss. apparently, john tesh (yeah, THAT john tesh) posted this little snippet of a monologue (?) by comedian michael sommerville (i don't know who that is either) about stuff that us chicas do that freak out our dudes...

i hate to sell us out ladies but, i know, that you know, that WE freak THEM out...

heck, us gals freak each other out... (and i'm not just talking biblically...)

why this is news to anyone (or funny enough to monologue about) is beyond me... but hey, i don't rock out to john tesh either. maybe he and jeff probst should hang out and learn something new together. now, THERE'S a lightbulb joke waiting to happen.

here's the tiny list of complaints:

* Wearing uncomfortable shoes. You’re limping. You have blisters. You need us to carry you. But none of that matters because your shoes match your outfit PERFECTLY! But here’s the deal: As guys, were all for you getting gussied up. But when you force yourself to wear shoes that aren’t even SHAPED like a foot, you’re just asking for trouble.

now, i know friends of mine who do wear uncomfortable shoes. they try them on at the store and they're uncomfortable and they still buy them. but, i have never known a woman to admit this to a man. because that would mean she did something wrong or stupid. and it is genetically impossible for a woman (WO-MAN, y'all, not girl) to admit to doing anything wrong or stupid TO A MAN.

it's my experience that a woman will admit every trespass and confess every sin to her girlfriends. but not to a man (GUYS - fyi - once you become an SO or a DH, you are no longer considered (just) a man. in some cases, you're like an honorary girlfriend... yay, you!!). if a woman were to admit to some kind of stupidity to a man (as in random man, not SO or DH) i'd question A) whether or not she was really a (anatomically correct) woman B) how quickly she could accuse you of assult, have you arrested after you were gullible enough to try to physically pick her up, simultaneously lift your wallet and ultimately steal your identity.

i have girlfriends who will don the most beautiful pair of stilletto heeled, imported black leather, pointy toed boots, just one day after mother nature (who's clearly on the rag) buries chicago in 4' of snow and has left a thick layer of slick ice hidden underneath it, "just because". when my girlfriends start walking around in that, negotiating the drifts, i laugh so hard, i cry. i almost "make yellow" in the snow. they look like kate moss after snorting a manolo shoebag full of blow.

i, on the other hand, have been known to attend a ceili with my girlfriends, who thought it would be a good way to meet real FOB irish boys (i WISH i was joking). so, what does a filipina born in chicago know about ceilis? nothing. i was thinking (every irish stereotype known to chicagoans) there'd be really cute boys, pints o' guinness (that i could drink underage), maybe a little shoegazin' action and some cool tuneage (U2, the pogues). this is what i got - men (born and raised in chicago) who are my fathers age, pop & cookies, maniacal irish set dancing in steel toed doc martens and a live ceili band. my poor scarred feet are still traumatized by the sounds of bazoukis and pipes.

so, i get that the S&M properties of this feminine idiosyncrasy can freak out the general public, especially that "sensitive" half - you know, the ones that voluntarily pee together in troughs and take pictures of each other vomiting. and 'cause it's less freaky to wear stuff until its SO comfotable that it's falling off your body - so what, if you look like an extra from a wayne's world movie or better yet - michael jackson's thriller video. now, THERE'S a look.


* Doing sad things on purpose. You know, like watching “Beaches” for the 20th time and having a sob-fest, or playing music that makes you cry. What gives?

again, i have girlfriends who do this (well, i hate that Beaches movie actually...) and i do this too - with my GIRLfriends. i don't know any girls who do this with their guys because guys do not GET why we do this. so, why would we want to suffer through their impatience or ignorance or derision or ask them to suffer thru our madness?

i've NEVER asked the thin man to watch "The Joy Luck Club" or "Umbrellas of Cherbourg" or "love actually" with me. i save that stuff for me and he saves porn for himself.... no questions asked and the worlds never collide (dude, there's erotica and then, there's porn...)

and i... well, i can't think of any music that makes me cry... some of that new fangled speed metal makes me cry and captain & tenille makes me cry but in that eye bleeding way...

and dude, if you don't want to watch the movie or listen to the music with yer girl, then walk away. don't piss and whine about it like some newborn babe. 'cause you'll make some of us lactate. now THAT, i assure you, will FREAK you out. the exorcist and the blair witch ain't got nothin' on a pissed off lactating woman.

so, grow some cahones, already. as if guys all over the country aren't bawling their eyes out watching their favorite sports team win some random sports title... AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN ON DVD.

* Asking hypothetical questions. You know – like, “Honey, would you still love me if I gained 100 pounds and lost all my hair?” Relationships have enough hot spots as it is. There’s no need to go and INVENT more.

oh, yeah, 'cause women corner the market on hypothetical questions... at least OUR hypothetical questions are (relatively) based on reality.

"would you sleep with someone else if he offered you a million dollars?"
"carmen electra or jenny mccarthy? what about both?"
"what would it be like if the cubs actually won the world series?"
"wouldn't i look good in a *insert insanely expensive sportscar here*?"
"what if *insert name of supermodel or box office babe here* walks into my life and says she wants to be with me?"
"honey, would you still love me if i gained 100 lbs and lost all my hair?"

yeah. uh-huh.

that's right, guys, you're no freakier than us so, just shut up and eat your turkey pot pie.

2 comments:

ImPerceptible said...

This is great! I might stop laughing sometime next week.

'Shut up and eat your turkey pot pie' Brillant!

MetroDad said...

Hahaha...hilarious post, Mamazilla. Have to admit. Never in my life have I ever heard the phrase "FOB irish boys." Classic.

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