Ask The Average Guy

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Saturday, February 25, 2012

Q. Ashlei: Why does he always put so much damn Tabasco on everything? A few drops go a long, long way.

A. Sounds like you’re not the one cooking. Average Guy Food Rule Number 105: If you don’t cook, you don’t bitch. Maybe a little history lesson will ease your anger toward nature’s perfect condiment. The Holy applications of Tabasco were on the tablets Moses brought down from Mount Sinai – carved by THE HAND OF GOD. Tabasco was on the table at The Last Supper. Most wars are started because the aggressor doesn’t have enough Tabasco. The bombs the United States dropped on Japan to end World War II were not atomic, they were Tabascotomic. Tabasco helped Rocky finally beat Apollo Creed. Luke Skywalker destroyed the Death Star with Tabasco. Harry Potter defeated Voldemort with the spell Tabascous burnassious. Each year thousands of guys get laid by chicks they pick up in bars after drinking Bloody Marys seasoned with – yeah, you guessed it – Tabasco. Can you imagine a world without Tabasco? If you can, I am sad for you. You’ll never truly know love.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Q. Laura: Why do men cheat on their wives with an uglier woman than their wife? I mean if you are gonna cheat she better be hot.

A. Are you talking about Tiger Woods? Or maybe the Governator? How about Prince Charles? At one point these men were married to women hot enough to give Neil Patrick Harris a woody. During Tiger Woods’ storybook marriage he decided that having sex with a live Swedish Barbie was so boring he started nailing pancake waitresses, porn stars, homeless guys, the knothole in the arm of an antique Chesterfield, whores, more whores, and his own face. I say “storybook” because Woods’ favorite bedtime books were, “Where The Wild Things are”*, and “Billy Meats a Truckload of Skank.” Arnold Schwarzenegger had a child with Jabba the Hutt, and Prince Charles cheated on Diana with a horse. The point is that guys – ALL guys – will have sex with anything that says “yes.” I don’t care how hot you are, the same men who are attracted to you will also do it with a bucktoothed hobgoblin in the bathroom of a 7-11 if she gives a nod and a wink. And you’re questioning this? I’m offended. Having sex with ugly chicks is like giving money to the March of Dimes. I wonder if I can claim that on my taxes?
*Think about it “Wild Things,” “Let the wild rumpus begin,” and “I’ll eat you up?” Max was totally banging those monster/goat/bird things.

Q. Ashlei: My only question is: where is my breakfast?

A. How the shit should I know? Let me ask you this; are you a regular woman or a feminist? If you’re a feminist, here are two of the many things you don’t understand about men, 1) we really don’t find flannel shirts and biker wallets attractive, and 2) if you want us to make breakfast, you’d better like Pop-Tarts and Eggos because if this breakfast doesn’t involve a toaster the chances of a man knowing how to make it are pretty goddamn slim. If you’re a regular woman, “where’s my breakfast?” just means you want to go to Waffle House. Just freaking say so.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Q. Fawna: Why when you ask a man to cuddle, or for a hug or to sit by you on the sofa they think you want to have sex?

A. One word: boner. Have you never been alone with a guy? Ladies, we can get a hard on by making direct eye contact with you, smelling your hair, or watching you eat a pickle. Hell, Fawna, I’m getting an erection just thinking about you eating a pickle, and I don’t even know what you look like. Now you’re talking about cuddling, hugging, and sitting on the sofa? Let’s look at an average guy’s thoughts via man math: Man+Woman+Couch=Sex. You add hair smelling, and hopefully some pickle eating, and panties are flying. Math does not lie. Why can’t couch time be innocent? Because average guys don’t do things like cuddle and hug (we’d rather be drinking), and we don’t just sit on the sofa without an Xbox controller in our hands unless it leads to sex. We just naturally assume you want the same thing.
Man (thinking): Hey, she’s sitting next to me. She must want sex. Good thing I’ve got a boner.
Woman (what a man thinks she’s thinking): Damn, I need to have sex right now. I’ll sit next to him on the sofa. I’m glad that gives him a boner.
Woman (what she’s really thinking): … How the hell should I know what a woman’s thinking? If you didn’t want to have sex, you wouldn’t be sitting next to me right now giving me a boner, I’d be watching the ballgame, and you’d be off doing whatever it is women do when they don’t want to have sex. Don’t expect me to know what that is. Zumba, or whatever.

Q: Sugar – Why is it that men cannot create lists of what needs to be done around the house and then prioritize?

The truth is men keep a list of priorities of things to do around the house in their heads at all times. Unfortunately for women, a man’s priorities don’t tend to align with yours. Such as:
To-Do
  • Drink beer.
  • Play video games.
  • Watch sports.
  • Use a chainsaw.
  • Fortify the house in case of a zombie attack.
  • Scratch his nuts.
  • Boobs.
  • Get a blowjob while watching TV.
  • Watch Internet porn if you say “no” to the blow job because we haven’t done the laundry/dishes/what-the-fuck-ever.
Do you think we’ll forget something? Did you read this list?
Of course, this is the only time you’ll see this list down on paper for two reasons: 1) unless we’re planning to explode lots of shit in a different country, a man’s organizational skills are a fucking disaster compared to a woman’s, and 2) you scare the hell out of us. If you don’t think your man’s worried you’ll kill him in his sleep, you’re even crazier than we think you are.

Q: Kristi – why can't they say sorry?*

A: I don’t mean to sound like a jerk, but the answer is simple – we’re not sorry. Unless a guy runs a truckload of orphans/nuns/strippers off the road because we were distracted by MWD (masturbating while driving), he’s never truly sorry. To feel sorry for something we’ve done means what we’ve done is in some way wrong. And as you damn well know, we never think we’re wrong – even when we are. When it comes to acting thoughtfully, guys usually rank somewhere below a wildebeest. Sure, sometimes we act on long thought out plans (like the time I broke up with a girl in college by giving her a douche wrapped like a Valentine’s Day present), but most of the time a guy does something just because it seems like a good idea. Admittedly these are usually not good ideas, but am I sorry? Nope. Fuck it. It’s over. I’m going for a beer.

*For the record, guys say they’re sorry a lot, we just don’t mean it. If you hear a guy say, “I’m sorry,” he’s either horny, hungry, or wants to be left alone.

Q: Amysue – When given tasks/chores to do around the house, why do they always act like they have no idea how to accomplish them without step-by-step instructions?

A: Amysue, we act like we don’t know how to load a dishwasher, or properly fold a shirt, for one perfectly good reason. We don’t care. When it comes to chores a guy will mow the yard, change the oil in the car, beat the shit out of stuff with a hammer, and chop down a tree because these things are fun. You think I don’t know how to load a fucking dishwasher? Have you ever seen me play Tetris? I can load a dishwasher and get the high score. I can fold a shirt that will make a drill sergeant cry like a hooker on Dr. Phil. I can even bake a cake in the shape of Pikachu giving Ronald McDonald a handjob. I have no idea why this would happen in real life, but I CAN bake that cake and it will be fucking delicious.* However, none of these chores are as important as shooting zombies on Xbox or watching the ball game. We act like we're stupid because, 1) we figure you’ll just get frustrated looking at our glazed eyes and do it yourself, or 2) we’ll follow your detailed list, still mess it up and you’ll realize we’re too incompetent to ever trust with that chore again. Either way, we win. To an average guy, happily doing “tasks/chores” around the house is equivalent to you sitting quietly in a fishing boat all day drinking whisky and occasionally pooping over the side. By the way, if you actually like doing that, we should probably get married.

* Truth is, I did make that cake, and when other parents at little Timmy’s birthday party acted all pissed off, I just asked if they want more cake, maybe the piece with Ronald McDonald's O-face on it? Sorry, I got off topic. I could write an entire book about handjob cakes.