Wednesday, 22 October 2008

A Hex on the Sexes

I am in a state of bewilderment. And if there are any male bloggers out there who would care to enlighten me, I'd be very grateful as I get nowhere fast with my own Caveman.

I realise that women have the most inordinate amount of daft foibles, such as nicking all the miniature toiletries from hotel rooms, including the shower cap, which we wouldn't be seen dead in; saving plastic bags 'because they always come in handy'; recycling old T-shirts for dusters; and promising to make chicken soup from the Sunday Roast carcass (which generally sits there until it gathers the cure for HIV in our kitchen).

My list of enigmas surrounding the less-fair sex include the following:
  • Not getting your hair cut
  • Not shaving and thinking snogging 3-day old stubble is a turn-on (when really it just ribbons your chin)
  • Not clearing out your skanky underpants which are full of holes and splits
  • Ditto with socks
  • Never finishing a DIY job which they have set about with great enthusiasm and then walked away from for a cup of tea, never to return...
So, let's take point 1. Getting the hair cut. My husband is currently trialling a brand product for me called Fast Hair. Prior to this, he trialled Nisim. We are having great success with both products as, previously a rather follicly challenged individual, he is now giving Fabio a run for his money. Unfortunately, Mr P's golden tresses don't lend themselves to the GHDs like Fabio's (not that I would want them to, either, I hasten to add); they tend to sort of 'spiral' out at odd angles. Over the last two weeks he has been called anything from Samson, to Tintin, to, this morning, #1 accused him of sporting a jaunty Afro. Mr P claims she doesn't know what one is. I put him straight...

After repeated nagging, and threats this morning to cut it for him...even going so far as to get the comb, kitchen scissors and a towel out, when he called my bluff (and you really don't want to do that, as I will always rise to the bait), he realised It Was Time. It took a grand total of 20 minutes and he was back. Not too hard, was it?

Point 2. Now, I must admit, a bit of stubble can sort of 'do it' for me from time to time (unless it is ginger and then I would rather view raw offal: Viking heritage and virility, or not). And so this is a bit of a mealy-mouthed complaint. It looks good on certain chaps, but it doesn't feel good on my face. I vividly recall the first snog I had after having been in the wilderness for a few months last year. He hadn't shaved and nearly ripped my delicate skin off. For three days, I sported scabby scratches down my chin which itched and caused me to pick incessantly (I am a dreadful spot-picker). So, while it looks good, it feels awful and I prefer babies' bums to bristly bears' arses...

Point 3. Not getting rid of your skanky pants. Why? Why is it such a comfort to have your testicles poking through an unfeasibly small hole, which strangulates the scrotum, wrecks chances of fertility, looks like a turkey's neck and must be uncomfortable? Surely? I have never known a man to get rid of his undies. I have had to do it for him...albeit very surreptitiously, under cover of darkness, wearing a disguise and bolstering my side of the bed with pillows and a dark wig. There are then the inevitable questions:

Where are my pants? 
Which ones? 
You know, those black ones. 
What, the ones with the dirty big holes in the crotch? 
They're not holes, they're ventilation shafts...
Check under the kitchen sink. I think I used them to wipe up the last dose of cat pee from the kitchen floor.

Point 4. Socks. I don't even pretend with these. I just tear them up in front of any man and tell them they are not Robin - 'Holy Socks, Batman!' It just befuddles me. 
Now, admittedly, I have socks from years and years ago, which are still doing me proud...but "I iz vumman". I wear stockings, hold-ups, tights etc most of the time, so my socks don't get a daily wear and tear...thus they can last me for years...unlike aforesaid nylons which only seem to grace my legs for an hour and then they are laddered. As my clear nail polish has gone hard, I cannot really dab the 'ladder' with chocamocha and walk round with what look like carcinogenic melanoma all over my legs...

Point 5. Never finishing a DIY job. The amount of times I have had to stalk through the house bearing arms such as hammers, Phillips screwdrivers, hacksaws and nails is beyond comprehension. And this has gone on since time immemorial, so don't think I am Parnsip-baiting here. 
But just a little bit of Parnsip-baiting for you Parnsip-baiter fans...he took the side of the bath off about 8 months ago to get at the taps. The screw covers have never been replaced and are shoved, in a margarine tub, behind the bathroom door...
It took three months for the shower power point to be sealed up - after he had removed it, and left the wires hanging freely, he walked away and got cracking on something else instead.

Yet, he put up the best fence panelling known to man! He and a friend, Phil, got cracking one Saturday, tore down the kindling which was our boundary fence, dug the holes, inserted the concrete posts, and erected 16 panels of Waney Lap. They were both crocked by the end of it, admittedly, and could hardly stand. But during the most recent high winds, they have stood firm and fast, like the Old Man of Hoy. So, I am not moaning there, either...

Is it the League of Gentlemen? Does a Caveman need another Caveman in order to show off his prowess to complete something? Not exactly 'penis-envy'. Fence-envy? Nah...that doesn't work, either...

Anyway, I am still as flummoxed as ever, so I would appreciate some guidance in these matters. Once I am enlightened, I can nip out with my club and pummell a passing dog to spit-roast for my very own Mr. Ug.


8 comments:

Karen ^..^ said...

LOL!!! This was fantastic, and so true. The haircuts? I don't know. I always rectify that situation before it gets out of hand. The undies? I stealthily buy newer, sexier ones for my guy before disposing of the ugly ones. Ventilation shafts, Hahahahahahaha!!!!!!!


Oh, god. The stubble. That hurts so damn much, it should be outlawed. I don't know why they do it, but a good aversion therapy for them is to turn your head with a pained look on your face until they shave. saying "ow!!" a lot works too, good God, it hurts to have sandpaper scraped across your face! Maybe we should rub sandpaper on thier face so they can see how it feels. Or maybe ask one of thier captain caveman friends to rub THEIR face on our guy so he can see how it feels. Naw... they'd never go for it. Sandpaper it is, then.

The projects... I normally hire someone else to complete it, thereby destroying the fragile male ego. They either DON'T start another project ever again that they don't finish, or they complete it in a timely manner next time. Either way is fine with me. I'm not picky. I despise something half finished, it is one of my all time pet peeves.

Everyone has thier own way, though. The ego crushing way works for me. Maybe that's why I'm still single?? Hmmm...

Ian T - Parsnip no longer... said...

My list of enigmas regarding the female of the species:

1. Shoes: Explain & discuss.
2. Yes means no. No means yes. Apart from when yes means yes and no means no. Understand?
3. Points 4, 5, 6 & 7 all deleted as I wish to remain a man for the rest of my natural.

I like stubble. It allows me to ponder thoughtfully and rub my chin, nodding my head whenever I am being asked questions. Questions to which I need to answer carefully due to not understanding them. (see above point 2 about what "yes" and "no" mean). I quite like that pose.

Socks: Hmm.. Yes.. There is nothing like a nice pair of comfortable socks. My favourites have my name on. Presumably that's in case I forget it.

Hair is over-rated. And the conversation in the salons these days is worthy of a blog post all to itself. I can feel my brain cells dying every time I go into a salon. And they charge me!

You'll never catch me with hair straighteners. I've seen teh blisters the women in this house sport on their ear-lobes. It's not a pretty sight I can tell you!

Oh, and Karen - there are no sexy pants/briefs/[insert geographically dependent word for undies here] for men. Well.. Should I say for this man anyway :)

At least we can wear t-shirts in the rain without need of a bra. Well... Most of us can anyway. (Note to self: The first rule of holes is that when you're in one: Stop digging)

Nice post. Well written. And a tip to all you ladies out there. Blog about your SO's DIY jobs. It gets them done!

Annie T AKA Agnes Mildew said...

Karen: Having a hair cut from you is infinitely different to a hair cut from me. Your version wouldn't be terror-filled. Mine IS!

Hmm. Sandpaper...perhaps I should not shave under my armpits for a few days and then use them in a bit of foreplay? Do you think that might make a difference??

Projects...They have all been done since the publication of this post - wehey! Surprising what a bit of writing can do, eh?!

Ian: Shoes. C'mon. You are as bad as me. You even buy me the damned things!
Controversial responses: OK. I am with you here. Perhaps if you had read my earlier post you would remember that I freely hold my hands up to the female of the species' contrariness? But perhaps you didn't read it. In which case, why not???!!

Stubble. To ponder thoughtfully...don't make me choke with laughter. It takes you ten minutes to respond to any question of mine, stubble or no.

You're just daft!

Cunning_Linguist said...

OK, listen up. It's a matter fo lazy, not ability or time. We can never plan anything because you all change our plans every other hour of the day.

Haircut? Puh-lease. We know it's longer than usual. If we get burdened down on the weekend it just doesn't get done. During the week we're just too tired to make an extra trip for anything. This is why hats were invented anyways.

When you shave your legs everyday and stop sounding like a chirping cricket when you walk, we'll shave our faces. 'nuff said.

Skanky pants ~ we married you already. We don't have to wear good ones anymore. Nobody sees them but you. You *should* worry though if all of the sudden we start wearing fresh perfect ones all the time. Something is up then. If anything, use them as a barometer to your love life. The more holes we have, the better off you are.

Socks ~ We get fresh ones every holiday. Why fight that old formula. If it makes it back from the laundry, we'll wear it. Just grab them and toss them if you feel necessary. Fair is fair, we do it with all those damn sugar packets you collect and spare napkins you are forever stuffing in the car's glove box.

Unfinished jobs will always be just that. We get a game plan. We think about the game plan. We dissect the price of the job in said game plan. We set aside time and proper tools for the job in the game plan. We gather all the tools and materials for the job in the game plan. We put all the tools and materials for the job in the game plan into motion..... we start for 15 minutes and we're pretty tired already. So that's why we stopped. You can't just hang a picture without all of the above mentioned ya know. It's a whole complicated big ordeal to us. Very tiring. Very very tiring. This is why we need a break when we start. Not to mention, we didn't want to hang your damn picture in the first place anyways. I bet you a dollar to a donut that any goings on around the house for an unfinished job was started by some amount of nagging from the wife that something should be done. Rest assured, left up to us we would just live with things the way they are and be happy.

If you just gave us a note at the beginning of the day that said "If you complete XYZ task, shower and shave and come to the table dressed in clean fresh underwear and socks where your little and big toes aren't poking out... you'll get a great meal. Throw in a haircut and tell me about your next project that WILL be finished... I'll throw in something sexy and a good time"... well then. You have your problem solved right there, no questions asked.

Keli said...

I live with three men. Well, one and three-quarters or maybe one and one-half. I never can be too sure. So I have three haircuts to contend with. But thankfully, only one who sports the holiest of socks. So holey that the homeless turn their noses up at him. I would live in a cave itself, but thankfully, Husband is tops insofar as domestic duties.
Nonetheless, I am exhausted, so when you get answers, would you please contact me immediately? I wait with bated breath...

Annie T AKA Agnes Mildew said...

Cunning: Oof! Keep your hair on! Or perhaps it needs cutting??
Right. I am glad you have explained the situation with the pants. That is a very valid point. And I shall be much more vigilant when Mr P starts buying new grunts.
The DIY situation. Nah. Can't go along with that one. Women don't need all that prep to clean the loo after you've sat there for an hour, reading the paper, creating a fug and then needing three flushes to get rid whilst STILL leaving skid marks!
But I take your point about the note. I'm happy to do that. Do I make the dinner whilst wearing the 'something sexy' or does that come later?

Keli: I think we will be waiting for quite some time, my dear!

Cunning_Linguist said...

it comes later..... don't give it all at once. and by sexy, no I do not mean your best sweatpants without hardly any holes in them.

Annie T AKA Agnes Mildew said...

Cunning: Thank you. Thank you for your words of wisdom. All it took were your suggestions and a bit of this and I now have a new bog seat in place, the picture on the wall and the grommets back on the bath tub.

You are my hero!