Sunday, February 20, 2005

As for getting along with women...this is impossible. We know this because they get really angry at us all the time and then admit later that they were totally wrong and have no idea why they went off on us. I think the key is to turn the TV way up and nod a lot until it blows over. And get a PDA that reminds you to buy flowers and so forth on the correct days. If you give a woman a kidney or your seat on a lifeboat, she won't even thank you, but a $3 bouquet from the grocery store will usually get you oral sex.

Enjoy the good days. On the bad days, it helps to have a hobby that requires you to leave the house. Tell yourself she can't help it. Maybe if someone shot you full of varying doses of estrogen all month long, you'd be crazy, too.

I think this is also important. Try not to laugh hysterically when she tells you she's not like other women and doesn't have mood swings or behave unreasonably. All women say this. 'I hate women who play games; I could never do that.' Yes, dear. You're one of the good ones. Really. It helps to practice saying this while looking in a mirror, because if she realizes you're lying, God help you.

About ten percent of women are direct and relatively stable. Every woman thinks she is part of that ten percent. Well, you know what Yossarian said. You can't see the flies in your eyes if you have flies in your eyes.
Mostly Cajun, All American and Opinionated:
"Boudreaux and his wife they out fishing in the lake one day. She stood up and fell over the side of the boat, and sank like a stone. Ol’ Boudreaux he dive in the water and look, but de water wuz plenny muddy, so he can’t fin’ her. After a while he goes back to the landing and tells de authorities. They mount a search. All night, they don’ find nuthin’. An’ all de nex’ day.

Fin’ly, Boudreaux, his phone ring. He pick it up and say “‘Ello?”

It’s the Sheriff. “Mr. Boudreaux, we got some bad news. We find your wife.”

“Oh, mon Dieu,” says Boudreaux. “She dead, hanh?!?!?”

“Yessir. She been in the lake a day an’ a half. When we pull her out, she had ’bout t’ree dozen big blue crab on her.”

“Oh, poor gal,” says Boudreaux. “An’ you brought her to the funeral home, hanh?”

“Hell, no,” said the sheriff. “Catchin’ crab like dat, we t’rew her back in. We gonna check her again in de’ mornin’!”"

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.' 'House'' for instance, is feminine: ''la casa.'' ''Pencil,'' however, is masculine: 'el lapiz.''

A student asked, ''What gender is 'computer'?'' Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether ''computer'' should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.

The men's group decided that ''computer'' should definitely be of the feminine gender (''la computer''), because: 1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic; 2. The native language they use to communicate with other computer's is incomprehensible to everyone else; 3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and 4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.

The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine (''el computer''), because: 1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on; 2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves; 3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and 4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model.

The women won.

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