It has come to my attention that the 7 or so people who are currently coming into my house for a cup of tea and a chat have been ignoring the basic house rules. Shame man! Now I realise you like to spend your employer’s valuable broadband on my useless ramblings, and therefore feel a bit shy about playing random tunes when you’re supposed to be hard at work building the nation, but I’ll be needing you to press play today, turn it up and read on. Its only 4 minutes. House rules…
He is
The soul injector, the heart protector
The soul defender of anything I fear
The baby conceiver, the make me believer
The joy bringer, the love giver
The soul defender of anything I fear
The baby conceiver, the make me believer
The joy bringer, the love giver
Today I’d like to write about men, good men. I know, you’re probably thinking ‘what good men?’ right? Listen, I realise we’re all a bit disillusioned and tired, worn out by the game that dating has become in this city, but can you honestly tell me that you don’t think there’s good men out here? Stop nodding. I believe, nay, I’m convinced that there are good men to be had, perhaps we just have to refine our definition, become a bit less rigid, but that’s a story for another day. Today I present my ode to good men. All three of them. Kidding. There’s at least five. Promise.
From what I’ve seen online, the one thread running through almost every blog written by a man is this: “We’re not all bastards! Yes, that punk used you and abused you, but that’s not me. Yes, that idiot cheated on you with your best friend, but that’s not me. Yes, that little shit whored and drank you into the poorhouse, but that’s not me.” Gentlemen, this is one woman’s attempt at saying, ‘You’re right, that’s not you. Its your cousin.’ This is my confession, and my pathetic attempt at an apology, to the good men out here, and the not so bad ones…
He is
The dough increaser, the pleasure releaser
The hard knocks knower without the scars to show ya
The night school teacher, the good life preacher
The caretaker, the kiss craver
The hard knocks knower without the scars to show ya
The night school teacher, the good life preacher
The caretaker, the kiss craver
These are the 7 things I love about men.
You solve shit.
Tell a man your problem and he will give you 67 ways to solve it. Granted, 61 of these will be unrealistic solutions, like, ‘If your car is making a funny noise, why don’t you dismantle the engine and check the carburettor?’ to which you respond ‘Eh?’ Not to worry though, the remaining 6 will be useful, practical solutions that will make your life easier, men are brilliant like that. Which leads me to…
You get straight to the point.
Have a conversation with a bunch of girls and it takes you 2 hours to get the crux of the matter, and while those 2 hours are very enjoyable, sometimes you just want to cut to the chase, no? And this is when men prove their worth. Men lack the ability to schmooze, small talk and chat, they get straight to it, efficiently, sometimes brutally, and it’s brilliant! Unfortunately, this doesn’t apply to when a man is chasing you, or leaving you for that matter, that’s the one time he will hem and haw, duck and weave, obfuscate and confound… But the good news is, you don’t mean to be so thick when it comes to women, it’s just that…
You’re so shy!
Yes, men are shy, very shy. The idea of stepping up to our fabulous ass(es) and declaring yourselves fills you with dread, doesn’t it? You’ll do it, but only because you have to, natural selection demands it. Given half a chance, I suspect you’d prefer to select women by lottery, simply insert the names of desired women into a draw and wait to see whose number comes up. Sorry fellas, if only life was so simple no? I’m guessing the ladies are distressed at this revelation of randomness, but don’t be, it’s not a reflection on us, it’s just that the average rate of rejection for men is 4 in 5, they’re simply playing the odds. And that takes me to…
You have balls!
I don’t mean that literally, that would be a bit redundant no? I’m talking about cojones, real or imagined. Us women we’ll give up after being rejected twice, but not you lovelies, noooo… A man will get rejected, over and over and over again, and he keeps dusting himself off and rushing back in to get his ass kicked, again. Why? Survival I guess, or good old-fashioned stupidity, either way, the fact that they keep trying to get our ass(es) means that we always have a shot of finding the elusive happy ending. So ladies, the next time a man steps up to you with the ‘heaven must be missing an angel…’ line, don’t be so hard on him, appreciate what it took to step up to you with such a pathetic line. If you have to, throw him back into the pond, but be gentle, your frog may just turn out to be my prince, I don’t need you scarring him for life, because…
His ego is the size of Everest.
Ladies, men have feelings too, at least two that I know of, but rumour has it there may be 3 more, dormant feelings just waiting to be ignited by Ms Right. The one thing every man I’ve ever spoken to keeps telling me is, ‘Don’t fuck with my ego!’ Now to us females, ego conjures up images of macho men looking to keep their women barefoot and pregnant. Trust me, that’s not it at all. A man’s ego is what drives him to set himself apart from the crowd, that gigantic ego is the difference between ‘I am my own man!’ and ‘naomba serikali…’. And this has nothing to do with arrogance, a man who knows his worth has no need to shout it from the mountaintop, think Thabo Mbeki , not Jacob Zuma
You’re not afraid to make a complete ass of yourself.
You men do the most stupid shit, and then simply move on. That lack of debilitating shame, unfortunately characteristic of women, is possibly the most endearing quality in a man. You fuck up, all the time, and then you shrug it off and move on. Remorse may be felt, amends made (sort of), but the course is always onward and upward. And last, but definitely not least…
You’re hot. Literally.
Men generate more body heat than women, that’s why we like to snuggle up next to you, you’re like giant hot water bottles, with extras. There is nothing better than a hot man on a cold night. I’m being literal here, get your filthy minds out of the gutter…
That’s it, my list of things I love about men. Please note that there’s nothing here about your bank balance, or your Audi S5, or your big…mansion… What’s on your list ladies? Come on, let’s show them some love, just this once.
Make it alright to get you through the night
The soul defender of anything I fear
The pain remover, bad times undoer
The joy bringer, the love giver
The soul defender of anything I fear
The pain remover, bad times undoer
The joy bringer, the love giver
He is
