On the John
Fat women, lazy dicks
Completed on September 1, 2006
The following is a partial, haphazardly-assembled list of complaints/annoying questions that women often make/ask that we, men, have agreed to listen to/answer without insult:
That this list exists, and that we, men, take it so seriously, is proof that women rule the world. Oh, yes, I suppose that in some of the more superficial and publicly obvious respects, men control the world. We make more money, we head up the Power Jobs, we drive fancier and phallic-ier cars. And you will whine, and say to me, “But Jack, how can you say that women control the world? We’ve never even elected a female president?” Well sure, we’ve never elected a female president, but we also rarely elect a president who is not married. (It’s only happened twice: Jefferson was a widower, while James Buchanan never married, referred to in political cartoons of the day as “Our Swingin’ Prez.”)
Yup, 40 of our 42 presidents were married while in office. That’s a fact, one that we often ignore. Why? We all know that a married man can hardly do anything without say-so from his Significant other…why then would we assume that this power does not extend to the Executive Branch? It would seem that being married to a president is just as good as being president. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.
As for the whole “fat” thing, this one simply boggles the mind. Perhaps just as maddening as the fact that we take all “fat” concerns seriously is the fact that women continuously feel the need to express them. This is absurd, because any woman who has to inquire as to whether or not she is fat is not fat. Fat people know they’re fat. When was the last time that a legitimately fat person asked you if she looked fat? The only time I’ve ever seen it is in Tommy Boy, and David Spade’s response to Chris Farley (“No. Your face does.”) was perfect.
If you’re fat, you know you’re fat, and yet women continue to make fat inquiries, even in situations in which they should, by all reasonable measure, be perfectly confident in their bodies.
And that’s the thing: I do not think that most women are actually as unconfident as they present themselves to be. However, they are constantly looking for reassurance about their bodies, presumably because they 1. know the response that they will get from us, and 2. feed off of that response. We give it to them without question, along with the Correct Answers to any number of absurdly unanswerable questions, such as the ones listed above…
…and yet you, women, refuse to grant us the requisite empathy that we so rightly deserve concerning our most fickle of organs. Oh sure, you will smile tenderly, and tell us ever-so-sweetly that it’s not our fault, but we know that look. It is the look of disappointment. This would be annoying in any society, but in a society in which men are expected to alleviate pressures on women that mount from unreasonable societal standards of beauty, visible disappointment in the face of potential flaccidness is inexcusable. You expect us to answer all fat inquiries with extraordinary tact and kindness, and then you stare at us in faux-pity even though you know that we are just as much at risk to societal pressures as you are. Nothing less than our manhood is at stake in these situations, and what do you do? You mock us.
“Mock you? What do you mean? I was perfectly understanding. I did my best to make you feel better, reassuring you by saying that ‘It’s natural,’ and ‘I’m not upset’ and that ‘it happens to everybody.’”
Well that’s just lovely.
You think that’s reassuring? Try this on for size: (ha ha)
“Honey, does this dress make me look fat?”
“Yes it does Honey, but that’s OK. Fatness is perfectly natural. In fact, I know a lot of fat women, and they’re all stand-up gals.”
And then, as you stare at us, totally reassured…
“It happens to everybody.”
So, from now on, no more mock-sympathy on the lack-of-erection front. It hurts us, and it doesn’t make much sense for you. After all, what can you gain from making us more self-conscious? We’re both there, watching the same movie, so if the projector’s broken then it’s bad for both of us. Just pretend like nothing happened—which, I suppose, is the case—move on to other business, have fun, and when you least expect it, a solution to your problem will just pop up. Your man will be up and around and ready to go, appreciative of your unwavering loyalty and fully confident in his abilities.
This newfound comfort and honesty will do wonders for your sex life and your relationship. Though, let’s face it, I’d imagine that you’ll find new things to complain about, and new inquiries to make, and one day, years from now, you’ll look up at us with those sad doe eyes, and say: Honey, does your fully erect penis inside me make me look fat?
And we will smile, and tell you ever-so-sweetly:
No, your face does.
Copyright 2006, jm silverstein
NEXT BY DATE: September 3, 2006