👷 It’s a Man’s World—or is it?
What women don’t know about men, and really don’t care. A Humorous piece from a man's point of view.
I was watching the James Brown bio pic the other day. Boseman Chadwick (RIP) was terrific. What a character Mr. Brown was and what music—the super-heavy, funk guy who made everybody move to the groove, even grandma. I mean how could you not?
In any case, he was singing, It’s a Mans World, and it got me to thinking a ponderous thought. What the hell is the role of men these days? In olden times (seventy years ago—that’s only one lifetime), my father went out and worked and with one job brought home enough to feed and house his family.
Mom stayed home and took care of us and the house and did a million homemaker chores. Ultimately, my mom had too many children and wound up working in a sewing factory, sweat-shop to help support us (thank you Vatican). But that’s beside the point. She definitely would rather not have done that.
As time has passed our “man role” has been gradually diminishing. There is so much disdain for men these days. You really can’t criticize any group these days without getting your head handed to you, except men. We’re fair game.
I’ll give you an example, most nights my wife and I watch a prerecorded Steve Harvey’s Family Feud while we eat. He is a funny guy, and we have a few chuckles while we chow down. Steve asks a question, and the contestant has to come up with the answer that got the most votes from an audience poll.
Invariably there is a question about cheatin’ men and what a woman would do if she caught him? Well…(these are actual answers from women) kill him, cut off his private parts, stab him, burn him, blow up his car, etc. The nastiest stuff you can think of. All for having sex with another woman. Overeach, maybe? And they broadcast this all over the nation.
However, I have never heard the question, “What would a man do if he caught his woman cheating?” Whoa! Can you imagine hearing those same answers. “Kill her, stab her,…” I don’t think that would go over too well. You get my point?
I think women forget that we are all descended from animals. I mean some people don’t believe in evolution, but who worries about them. And the sexes do have different natural and physiological roles.
I know, can you imagine such a sexist thought. What was God thinking? I mean how did the Higher Power think a woman would go for men being able to stand and pee and not them? Duh.
Funny comment from the character Elaine on the TV show Seinfeld, “ I don’t know how you guys walk around with those things.” And that’s the thing, women don’t know. I’ll give you a hint. Very gingerly. Plus, you never know what the damn thing is going to do.
Women assume we have control over it. Another misconception. We don’t. Testosterone is a nasty thing. You get too much in your system, and it inflames your brain. You want to have sex or kill somebody.
If an attractive woman walks by, forget about it. Let a straight man work next a fine-looking, woman of any age. See how much work gets done. Women in the workplace, right! Great idea. Estrogen vs. testosterone. Heavy weight title fight. You know who’s going to lose, and it ain’t the fairer sex.
And another thing, how many times can you watch a hundred-pound, five-foot nothin’ woman kick the ass of a 6’2”, 250 pound, killer mercenary without saying, “really?” But they gotta be as tough as men. Right? Who writes this shit?
Here’s another example. If you follow football, Travis Kelce, a player for the Kansas City Chiefs, was an amazing player. He started dating the hot, Taylor Swift, superstar singer, and his play hasn’t been the same since. It’s deteriorated.
Could it be Taylor Swift’s distraction? My wife claimed it wasn’t her fault, it was his penis. He can’t control it. She was absolutely right. He can’t. No man can. I mean, maybe a monk or a priest, but who the hell knows what they’re up to.
So, of course that puts us in the category of “pigs” for even thinking about it. Women love to accuse us of that. We didn’t do this. This is the natural role of the male—to spread the seed.
While woman get one precious egg a month, we daily get tens of thousands of excited, little sperms banging against our little round you-know-whats, screaming to get out. Really. Is that our fault we need to get rid of them before we burst? I think not. Do women think about our dilemma? Care about our sufffering? No sirree Bob!
Plus, they found out in a scientific study that to keep the prostate healthy, men who had an orgasm at least 21 times a month had a 20% less chance of prostate cancer than men who had 4 to 7 orgasms a month. So there! It’s all about men’s health.
We men are visual animals. Women are aural. Show a man a little skin, a some sexy curves, and he’s off to the races. Whisper some seductive words in a woman’s ear, and they’ll follow you anywhere. This is, of course, if you’re a halfway desirable male. If you don’t cut the mustard, it’s harassment. Try to figure that one out.
I think pretty much everyone has heard the one about the Papa Bull and his young son grazing on the hill. The son looks down and sees a herd of cows and he perks up. “Dad,” he says, “Let’s run down the hill and have sex with one of them females.”
The father looks down and says, “Why don’t we walk down and have sex with all of them?”
That pretty much sums it up. Right there is the answer to men’s attitude toward sex, and is the BIG SECRET to why men cheat.
Some males are swans. They are very happy with the one woman they have. Most males are not. This is found all throughout nature.
You have to give it to male lions. They sleep all day, get up and have sex with the lionesses and then go back to sleep until the women bring them some food. Male lions knew when to stop evolving. They made it to just the right stage. 😊
But life isn’t only about sex. It’s about communication between the sexes. That’s a major problem. Most men don’t like to talk that much.
After “How ya’ doin’,” there isn’t much to say, unless you’re talking sports or how the crops are growing or how the fish are running, what farmer’s rows are crooked or about the last good sex you had. A man wants pictures, a woman wants words. Romance novel vs. porn.
I remember my mother’s sewing circle. We kids would go to bed and about six or seven of her friends would sit around and crochet and talk. I mean talk, because I don’t think any of them were listening. Everyone talking at the same time. How did anybody ever get heard? We couldn’t sleep, that’s for sure.
I lucked out. After the first twenty-five years, my wife and I pretty much talked about everything important. Now we only converse about an hour or so a day. We both like it that way. Peaceful.
As women have become more powerful and taken over our male traditional roles, they have feminized our sons. An example. Where are the boys names these days? Forget Joey, Tommy, Jerry, Phil. Now they use names they heard on soap operas, Brandon, Scott, Brent, Blake, Bryson, Dylan. Really? Plus, there’s hardly ever a good, rabble-rousing, school-yard fist-fight between boys these days. What is happening?
And black women aren’t excused. I mean what is with the “De” and “La” in front of boys names. De Michael, La Darius. Does it make their sons sound classier? I don’t think so.
In fact, “La” prefix is a feminine prefix in most romance languages, e.g. “La senora (Spanish),” “La donna”(Italian) And the “De” usually indicates a name from the mother, like Carlos Sanchez de Rodriguez. Rodriguez being the mother’s maiden name. They feminize their son’s names.
George Carlin does a great bit on it. Be careful he likes to use the “F” bomb a lot.
That’s why God invented dying. It’s about Evolution. To gradually make room for an enhanced species. The human race won’t need males at all down the road. Five, six-hundred years from now women will have completely absorbed all of men’s physical traits, and there will be only one sex. “Wom-Man.”
Just like marijuana plants. They will naturally turn hermaphroditic. I mean they’re already surgically attaching penises to themselves. Then everybody will have to lift the toilet seat to pee …or not.
In case you haven’t figured. I’m just messing with you. It’s called satire. So don’t cancel me. Just having some fun. Feel free to comment.