The Good Old Days
Oh, for the good old days - when men were men and women were subjugated. There was no questioning authority back then. The rules were simple - Might is Right! But then civilization moved in and took its toll.
Birth control was discovered and women were relieved of the crushing burden of childbearing. Morning sickness is now a thing of the past. Now the only time we throw up is if we get some bad tamales at Chico's Cafe. And once we had tasted independence, we're all in men's faces, telling them they can't go out and hunt and fight; they've got to go out and get a real job in an office somewhere. Then they get all soft and flabby and don't turn us on anymore, so we have to watch football games, where those big hunky guys go running around in their tight pants and...wait a minute...I've lost my train of thought.
Oh yeah! Our poor men! All that testosterone and no place to go. They can't kill anything with a club anymore. If they try to hunt, it has to be with a rifle, which is no contest against the unarmed animals. So the men don't even need any muscles to do it. And they can't capture territory any more - how frustrating is that? If they want land, they have to deal with a real estate agent, and half the time the agent will be a female, which is even worse, because he'd rather fuck her than listen to her drone on and on about mortgage rates and property appreciation. And then his wife is nagging him about how she'd rather have a place with a skylight, and he's thinking, all I want is a goddamn cave, where I'll be the boss and if we're hungry I'll go out and club a bear and bring it home and you'll cook it and then I'll fuck your brains out whether you're in the mood or not. Then you'll start pumping out the babies and do some gathering of nuts and berries to supplement the bear meat. And then...huh? What? Okay, okay, we'll get a skylight.
And that, my friends, explains why modern men drive gigantic SUVs, mow their tiny lawns with large, noisy power mowers, and get into fights at hockey games.
11 comments:
Z!
If I'm choosing, you're on my team and if you're choosing I want to be on your side!
I thought it was women who drove SUV's so they could get the kids to soccer or school???
Funny piece!!
Crybbe666 ..
You forgot Axiom 2751-a, that is, "The bigger the pick-up or SUV the smaller the member."
It's not what you got, but what you do with it....And a fat wallet helps
Boy, do you have it all wrong. I've got more than one dude on my street that mows their tiny lawns with a riding mower.
A Brief History of Man and Woman by Madam Z.
I LOVE THIS.
write a book.
why do women fluff their hair in SUVs
because they cant scratch their balls
dont blame me - blame my uncle
send me your e-mail so I can give you access to the 1 club.
scmods99@gmail.com
The first game played with a ball was when a man kicked his enemy's severed head. We got somewhat civilized after that but the instinct to kick our foes severed head remains. The invention of the soccer ball worked well enough to domesticate most of the world but it took the NFL for those of us still resisting clothing and jobs.
The NFL! Naked?! Nowwwwww we're gettin' somewhere. 1st and 10 do that again ... WAIT, WAIT! Without the cute tight butt uniforms that the all-knowing Z of the world smiles miles at, how we gonna tell which team is which team and which team is winning?
OH. Boys will be boys, they just want to clunk and grunt and pass interfere and blitz and reddog and wildcat and huddle and . . . Bears? Jaguars? Broncos? Rams? Falcons? We were talking about primal times, right?
Sorry, you lost me when that big lug pulled my long hair and flattened me on my back and ***WHISTLE*** 15 yard penalty - clipping.
Did I mention you write so damn well, Mz Z?
{"You write so damn well."}
That Montgomery Maxton feller is right -- BOOK THIS, BABY! (then go out for a pedicure and meet me for wine). Who needs an SUV ~ I have a convertible.
~ Absolutely*Kate
Some of us fellas still fight. Not that there's anything redeeming about it (except when risking your pretty face standing up for something you believe in), but hey, it's in us, and not all of us deny our manly instincts. Then again I am a huge believer in foreplay -- giving, not receiving.
Post a Comment