The Second Step is Admitting It

Unlike women, men can be a whole shit load of things over the course of their lives — and all without relying on government quotas or miniskirts. To men that’s an important difference.

We can accelerate in academia for one, we can also become top businessmen in sharp looking suits, or we can simply be good parents. That’s our prerogative as men: whatever we want and however we want to do it.

However, while exercising so much responsibility, we men, from time to time, can also be wrong.

Not in the way that women are wrong, of course. The way a man can be wrong is like placing the fork and knife on the wrong side of the plate. Who cares, everyone still eats. The way that women are usually wrong is by throwing the flatware in the pool, burning dinner, and then playing the period card like its Uno.

Uno! Great. As if women have ever had more than one card.

It’s a widely bullshit myth that men can’t admit they’re wrong. Men admit they’re wrong all the time. There’s more than three billion men in the world right now all taking care of business and responsibilities at lighting fast speeds and in a million different directions. With all that man power flying around fucking of course The Noid is eventually going to show up and ruin a pizza or two. There’s nothing wrong with that. The only thing wrong is the bullshit myth.

No, men admit their wrong. And when they do, they’ll make it right and that’ll be the end of it.

See that’s the first way that men are better than women at admitting they’re wrong. To a woman, being wrong is a two out of a three step process — just like everything else in a woman’s life: two out of three. There’s the fuck up, which they make plenty of, from their history degrees to their mixed fucking signals to their prison pen pals; then there’s the admitting it. And that’s where a woman’s journey ends in a maelstrom of tears and snot and attention. Men on the other hand cross that goal line of absolution and fix the mistake. They take care of it, and they clear their permanent record of jackass doings.

So why don’t women go all the way? It’s not a big deal to fuck up. Besides it’s not like women have any metaphorical ball to drop anyway. What man gives a woman control over her finances? Please. That’s laughable.

The answer is that women don’t fix their mistakes because all women think they’re fucking perfect. Perfect like fucking Nicole Kidman in The Stepford Wives or perfect like that finger stab guy in Aliens, whoever you want, women think that’s them. Who the fuck knows why. Some kiss-ass douche bag that they dated for six months too long or their mother probably told them at some point. Who cares. Whatever the reason, when a woman fucks up her whole goddamn life and psycho self-image crumbles around her like a gingerbread house in May. Then comes the waterworks and then the serious life-change and positive attitude which lasts about a fucking hour and a half. And all the while we men have to put on our tool belts (figurative or actually literal tool belts) and get down to some serious un-fucking up.

You know what the problem is. It’s that men are so good at admitting their wrong and women are so fuck terrible at it that they don’t even notice when it actually happens. They’re waiting for the crying and the screaming and the ten minutes of secret eye-rolling.

The fact of it is though, that men are so smooth at admitting they’re wrong, sometimes no one even notices at all. And really, isn’t that exactly how its supposed to be.

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