Bloggy: Men Are Conflicted

Mr_Bloggy: While men appear simple, brutish and easily amused by noisy things that emit smoke and go fast, and that is certainly true, men are also constantly caught in the overbearing role of the Protector-King in which they refuse help from the little lady and puff up their manly chests and take care of business, even when it is blindingly obvious to even the most walnut brained dude, he needs some help (see simple vacuum cleaner repair/unplugging of lint-hair-sock balls).  However, men are also whimpering little incontinent mommy-candy-kittens, who learned as little boys that they got mega ultra hypersonic maternal attention when they were sicker than little puppies - puking, febrile, coughing, and snotty. More below.

So, systematically, yet relentlessly, like the March of the Nutcrackers, their moms shape their behavior into helpless whiny little craphead buttfaces who cannot microwave a burrito properly when the wife is around (“hey, hon, do I set this on auto-defrost for 48 lbs? huh? what the heck? hon?”) but can microwave em perfectly while popping open brews and mixing up homemade guacamole for the guys on Seahawk Sunday when the little lady is out buying crap.

So please understand the two conflicted worlds men must live in while adopting gender-distorted identities: Protector-King and Candy-Mom-Kittenbaby. Two diametrically opposed, yet harmonically converged in a sort of yin-yang zennish construct, forming the totality of the dude - and it’s how the world turns, kids. It just is the Way of the Man.

Sigh. Being a single dad and all, Mr_B does not get near enough “hey babe, I can’t get these pots and pans in the dishwasher right, they’re stacking wrong! dammit.” time, it’s all Protector-King Poet-Warrior role overadoption. Sometimes, a grizzled old Viking-Warlord just needs a little dumbassed helpless me time. It ain’t easy always remembering how to defrost hamburger in the microwave.

That’s all. Mr_B feels like sobbing now. But.he.can’t.

Sniff.