Men Have Bouncier Brains
Women are whores of many things. First of all, they are actual whores, which I’ve already proven. They’re also attention whores of course. That’s another obvious one. Then clothing whores and jewelry whores and shoe whores, but that’s all pretty much the same kind of whore — a money whore.
It comes as a major shock to me — which as a man I express in a simple, “Hmm, that’s interesting,” that women are also whores of a completely different colour.
Women are also memory whores.
I’ve often gone on record saying that women have the memories of goldfish. A goldfish is a creature that will eat itself to death because it has forgotten the act of similarly gorging itself not five minutes ago. Goldfish will also eat their own shit. They are a foul and slimy creature kept in tanks by the hundreds in wait for their one and only purpose — to sustain life. The comparisons to women are innumerable.
Saying women have the memories of goldfish, however, isn’t exactly true is it? No, the truth is that women remember shitloads of things. We all know it. They just don’t remember anything worth a damn like directions or to bring their fun attitude or that work doesn’t start at 9:35 it actually fucking starts at 9:00. That’s why women having no memories is something that I like to call a man-truth. A man-truth is something that while not true at the moment due to a glaring contradiction, will probably be true at some point in the future with more evidence or consideration.
That future is now.
A recent article that I’ll post at the bottom says the ability to think critically, AKA take care of business and get the job done, is not a function of memory, but of selective memory. Sound interesting? You bet your man ass it is. Let me give an example.
Let’s say that thinking critically is like flushing a toilet. You have your problem floating in the bowl and the solution comes about as you flush the handle. A bunch of swirly shit happens (unless you’re in Australia where I’ve been lead to believe that the water doesn’t swirl clockwise as it does here. It just drops straight into the drain) and when all the noise is over, the problem is gone.
That’s how a man brain works. Problem, flush, solved.
A woman’s brain is exactly like the above, except that before she even starts thinking, the bowl is already chock full of shit. As any man can tell you, a toilet chock full of anything — especially shit — is not going to flush. Fuck what’s it’s going to do is make one hell of a huge, horrible mess — which only makes this metaphor ten times more man-true, because that’s exactly what happens when women think — a huge, horrible mess.
So what’s the problem here? The problem is that if brains were nightclubs, men’s brains have huge burly dudes out front who look like they used to stunt double for that guy Zeus in the movie No Holds Barred with Hulk Hogan. They don’t take any bullshit and if you’re dressed like a slob, you don’t get in. Anniversary? Who gives a shit about you, get to the end of the line. Women, however, have a sign out front with a bowl of candy that says “Please only take one” that all the assholes ignore the fuck out of as they pack the nightclub until the poor guy in the Get Your Oil Changed T-Shirt with the Don’t Act Like a Bitch brand slacks can’t even fit his hand in the door.
Women are memory whores. They have no concept of priority in memory just like they have no concept of priority in life. If you’ve ever seen a woman try to balance a $5 cup of coffee or a baby on top of her car while pumping gas, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.
And that’s a man-truth.
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December 15th, 2005 at 5:03 am - IP Man-Hash: 05876c7260a2f
I am getting jackshit of your superior attitude problem dick. I think it might be time to redress the balance and point out the many failings of men, and perhaps devise a few new Man Laws while we’re at it, eh?
Yes, thought you’d agree.
Here are somethings that are naturally incompatible with men. They just don’t go, like oil and
waterDubya.Consistency. One day they like the Suburu, the next it’s all about the Calais.
Ability to hear. Seems able to hear the mobile perfectly fine from a distance of 50 feet, but apparently stone deaf to the landline.
Mess. Wouldn’t recognise it if it came up and introduced itself with a gift voucher to the local massage parlour.
Important Dates. Men must think no one else was ever born aside from themselves.
Laundry. I believe this has been covered before.
Shopping. Apparent inability not to overspend on food items or to buy anything other than red meat and Coronas.
Parking. The general rule seems to be that it doesn’t matter if you spend 3 hours driving up and down and all around the parking lot and end up $15 out of pocket before you even hit the shops, cause eventually you’ll have yourself a fucking park near the entrance doors.
Laundry. Don’t get me started.
Cooking. Not good at it, but if you complain, it’ll never happen again.
Budgeting. Yes, there is such a thing, believe it or not.
Vision. There are so many things they just can’t see, I don’t know where to begin. I’m beginning to think that creating the hubble telescope was some kind of an attempt to psychologically master this inability.
Cleaning. Just hire a cleaner already tightarse.
December 15th, 2005 at 7:14 am - IP Man-Hash: 065b11b01d70f
You really need to get a life. It is no wonder that the divorce laws are so biased against men in Australia with attitudes such as yours prevailing within the civil justice system. You need to move on.
December 15th, 2005 at 7:22 am - IP Man-Hash: 3f6f1bc89c9c0
What in the holy fuck are you babbling about? I’m at a loss for words.
December 15th, 2005 at 10:00 am - IP Man-Hash: a0c7c73d83830
I thought Dubya and oil went together very well.
What a dumb cunt you are, Female, for not knowing that. It’s as if you know the minimum amount possible to live, but not to open your mouth. Unless you’re on some kind of assisted living program — just like all women.
-Dick
December 15th, 2005 at 12:29 pm - IP Man-Hash: 6c059e71336cb
“Consistency. One day they like the Suburu, the next it’s all about the Calais.”
This one made me laugh. If the men in your life are inconsistant, it’s because they’re actually women. Aside from my sister (who, in my opinion, is an honorary man), I’ve never known a truly decisive and consistant woman. I’ve heard such gems as “You pick the restaurant” or “Should I wear the red or the blue dress?” and, my favorite, “I want to go to the mall…no, I hate the mall, I want to go to Target.”
“Ability to hear. Seems able to hear the mobile perfectly fine from a distance of 50 feet, but apparently stone deaf to the landline.”
Perhaps this is because land-lines do not accurately carry the shrillness of your voice that cellular phones do.
“Mess. Wouldn’t recognise it if it came up and introduced itself with a gift voucher to the local massage parlour.”
You’ve obviously never had to clean a women’s public restroom. I have. The men’s room is always cleaner–there’s never shit on the walls and floor, bloody femenine hygeine products on the floor, or urine in places that are almost physically impossible for a woman to reach with her plumbing. The men’s public restroom might have a clog in the toilet, and sometimes a Playboy stuffed playfully into the toilet bowl as a prank, but at least all of the messes are actually in the toilet. This can be extrapolated to other things–cars, apartments, and yards as well.
“Important Dates. Men must think no one else was ever born aside from themselves.”
What happened on Dec. 7th, 1941? How about 11/11/1918? 11/22/63? Oh, wait, you’ll just google those, since you don’t know on your own power. I never once forgot my anniversary with my ex-gf, or her birthday, or Valentine’s, or Christmas. Sometimes when I was hard up for cash, all she’d get was a little card I made on the PC and a phone-call, but she loved it. Before you get smart with me about her being my ex, she’s only my ex because it was moving with my career versus living in her beloved home town for the rest of our lives, where my living would have been made at a dead-end tourist trap or Wal-Mart. We split up because we knew we would end up resenting each other no matter what we did. We’re still on great terms and talk fairly frequently.
“Laundry. I believe this has been covered before.”
If all you wear is dark colors and no gay materials that react to certain temperatures, it’s pretty easy. Throw it all in with some Woolite Dark, and bam, it’s all magically clean. Dry on cool, to prevent shrinkage. Hot only if you are in a hurry.
“Shopping. Apparent inability not to overspend on food items or to buy anything other than red meat and Coronas.”
Yes, because we’re men, red meat and coronas (guinness or killians in my case) is all we need to survive.
“Parking. The general rule seems to be that it doesn’t matter if you spend 3 hours driving up and down and all around the parking lot and end up $15 out of pocket before you even hit the shops, cause eventually you’ll have yourself a fucking park near the entrance doors.”
No man I know drives around for the parking spaces near the doors. There are exceptions, I’m sure, but it’s likely only because you women have already double-parked in the spaces near the doors. I always park as far away as possible, and if it’s cold, any female accompanying me may borrow my trench-coat.
“Laundry. Don’t get me started.”
I thought girls liked the color pink. It’s not our fault that you have to wear a damn rainbow of colors.
“Cooking. Not good at it, but if you complain, it’ll never happen again.”
I’m an excellent cook. Men wish they had my culinary abilities, and women swoon at my skills.
“Budgeting. Yes, there is such a thing, believe it or not.”
You just don’t like man-budgets because they don’t include handbags, shoes, and other useless fashion items. Men understand the importance of paying bills on time, which is why I know no men with disasterous financial problems, and many women who can’t prioritize their gasoline expenses and rent over their precious cell-phones.
“Vision. There are so many things they just can’t see, I don’t know where to begin. I’m beginning to think that creating the hubble telescope was some kind of an attempt to psychologically master this inability.”
Example, please. Vision is why I rarely let women–including my sister and my own mother–drive. They just can’t see that the light just changed to (or from) red, or that they are actually driving on the shoulder of the road. I also know no women who can get a bullseye at 400 yards with a 30.06 rifle using only iron sights. (I can’t do this personally, but I’ve seen other men do so.)
“Cleaning. Just hire a cleaner already tightarse. ”
Again, this is full of crap. Men do not clean often because we don’t need to–I give my apartment a good once-over every month or so. Sure, there’s some stuff piled up, but it doesn’t smell. Men are smart enough to know that bacteria eat our food too, and then the bacteria fart noxious chemicals. Some men are smart enough to allow this process to take place despite the stench, as a way to ward off irritating women such as yourself.
December 15th, 2005 at 2:13 pm - IP Man-Hash: dc6df4d5c25ad
Charming. In my mind they actually don’t go together too well dick, but then being a non-biased, non Yank (thank sweet baby jebus) I have the ability to actually see what a fuckstick your president is, in fact, what a bunch of fucking cunts his entire family is. If ever there was a reason for retrospective abortion, he is it.
December 15th, 2005 at 2:15 pm - IP Man-Hash: f3ae1ac46a2e3
So you’re saying the president of the US doesn’t like oil? Is that the attitude of most Australian women?
-Dick