Showing posts with label He Blogs She Blogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label He Blogs She Blogs. Show all posts

Thursday, July 30, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Wiggly Dick?


Yup, Wiggly Dick. Click the link and find out.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Balls, Balls Everywhere...


Go check out this week's edition of He Blogs, She Blogs. The Captain and I are talking about SPORTS. If you are anything like me, sports are a big part of your life (against your will, of course).

And there is a really sweet picture of Tom Brady. You're welcome ladies ;)

Thursday, July 16, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Ladies Night!


This week at He Blogs, She Blogs, the Captain and I are talking about getting out for Guys/Girls Night Out. Otherwise known for the females as the infamous "Ladies Night." Check it out. And watch this cause Kool and the Gang rules:

Thursday, July 9, 2009

He Blog, She Blogs: Halo Edition


Hey everyone. He Blogs, She Blogs is up (despite my extreme tardiness) if you would like to go take a gander at what the Captain and I think about video games. I think we finally disagree on something...

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Hooray for He Blogs, She Blogs Day


Nothing to see here folks, head over to He Blogs, She Blogs, where Captain Dumbass and I are expounding on the art of driving.

Plus, there's a really funny picture of a cat over there. So go...now.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Dirty Harry Edition


Go read He Blogs, She Blogs and all about how Captain Dumbass is like Dirty Harry and his wife is an Asian version of Danny Glover. Seriously, that dude is funny.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

I Knew There Was Something I Was Supposed To Do...


Um, yeah, today is He Blogs, She Blogs.

I gloated and got all cocky cause I actually got my post done first this week, and then ruined it all by forgetting to put up this little reminder post on my blog.

DOH!

Go read He Blogs, She Blogs, please, if you will, if you haven't already.

Thanks.

Sincerely,
The REAL Dumbass

Thursday, May 28, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: The Mall Edition


Hey everyone, head over to He Blogs, She Blogs for mine and the Captain's viewpoint on shopping. Please forgive me for the lack of spaces in my post but Blogger is being an asshole and I somehow can't fix it. My post sucks anyway, so you have my permission to skip mine and just pretend that you read it.


You're welcome.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Late Again: It's He Blogs, She Blogs Day!


Sorry I am late again. It seems my brain can't handle all the things it is supposed to be paying attention to lately and I keep messing up. Anywho, there's a post over at He Blogs, She Blogs about the kitchen, so go check it out and leave a comment. Remember, we are looking for suggestions for topics, so make some!

And have a very nice day.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Go Forth and Read: He Blogs, She Blogs


OK people, it's the day you have all been waiting for. There is a fly little post waiting for you over at the brand new He Blogs, She Blogs blog so head over there NOW, read what Captain Dumbass and I had to say and leave a comment!

Seriously, leave a comment because the Captain's self-esteem has been seriously dwindling lately and I just can't afford the increase in therapy bills.

And don't forget to tell us what topic you want us to discuss in the future. With the new format, we need hard-hitting issues to fill a whole post so don't be shy. From bestiality to transgender pregnancy, nothing is off limits!! Well, maybe bestiality.

So go forth, read and be merry. I am going to go have a glass of champagne to celebrate, which also makes the comments much more fun to read. Seriously, try it. You'll thank me for it.

Cheers!

Thursday, May 7, 2009

We're Baaaaaaaack!

Just when you thought you were rid of us, Captain Dumbass and I are back, and back with a vengeance! We have a new blog for He Blogs, She Blogs, a new format and we are ready to rock out with our cocks out. Well, not me, cause I am lacking the proper equipment, but I'll improvise.

So go over to He Blogs, She Blogs and let me know what you think of the new pad. There is a welcome post up over there so read, comment, you know the drill. Also, FOLLOW us so you won't miss one juicy piece of HBSB action. We need topics for our posts, which are now both going to be featured over there on Thursdays, as well as some surprise guest posters here and there so leave us some ideas. What do you want each of us to blog about? This time around, it will be ONE topic per post, so we can wax extensively on each issue instead of just answering questions. Get creative and bring on the provocative questions you have always wanted sussed out by the opposite sex!

Oh yeah, and grab the button and put it in your sidebar. The Captain and I will be forever in your debt. Well, not really, but we will think you are really, really cool :)

Monday, March 30, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Steenky Bee Style


Today is the day. My lovely, gorgeous, sexy, funny, and intelligent friend Jen from Steenky Bee is guest posting today for He Blogs, She Blogs. Which means that basically I have to go sit in the corner and suck my thumb while rocking back and forth in despair at how much more awesome she is than I am and how humbled I am to have HER words appearing on MY blog. In the immortal words of Wayne and Garth, "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy..."

And if having Steenky Bee isn't cool enough for you, Captain Dumbass has Christopher from Cajoh taking over on his site today to give you the "he" part of the equation in He Blogs, She Blogs. So when you finish here today, head over there to Us and Them, unless you've already been there and read Christopher's awesomeness.

The one thing I ask of you is please, PLEASE, still continue to come back and read when the reigns are passed back to me. I know I am no Steenky Bee, but I try really hard. And I do it all for you. That's worth something right?

The Captain and I picked some awesome questions from The Stiletto Mom, Marinka, Blogging Mama Andrea, and Natasha from Exile Street. Here are the questions and Steenky Bee's insights, for your reading pleasure:

The Stiletto Mom said…

What is the biggest fight you had over the dumbest thing EVER? (it's always the stupid fights that get big)

Oh Stiletto Mom, my dearest friend, a few things come to mind with this one. There’s the time Jeremy (my husband, and never-ending fodder for Steenky Bee) set our garage on fire. Or there’s the time I accidentally shaved his head just hours before his brother’s wedding. But I would have to say, the fight that will never, EVER end (are you reading this, honey?) has to be way back in 2002 when the two of us were lying in bed together, just about to drift off to sleep. I lovingly turned to him, gently caressed his cheek and purred into his ear, “Who do you think is funnier, you or me?”

Jeremy furrowed his brow, took a deep breath and then thoughtfully announced, “I think I am the funny one in our relationship.”

Well, folks, I was not taking this news flash from him lying down. I immediately jumped out of bed, flipped the lights on and stood there in front of him on the bed and demanded he explain himself.

Of course, Jeremy practically burned a hole in our bed sheets trying to back peddle faster than I’ve ever seen anyone attempt to this day. He managed to stammer out “No, no, no! What I meant was, YOU, my lovely and ever-so-hot wife, are funnier in a crowd, while I’m only reasonably amusing one on one.”

I then proceeded to jump on the bed until I bounced him out and onto the floor. Then I screamed, “Who’s funnier now, bitch?”

Actually, I didn’t get the chance to yell that last line at him. I only managed to get out “Who’s funnier…” before the bouncing moves on our hand-me-down mattress, BOOM! our bed frame collapsed.

So, who’s funnier? My husband and I argue over that small detail daily. You should also know that I broke our bed about three years later when Jeremy tried to tell me he thought he had better legs than me.

Marinka said...

Here is my question--in terms of movies, do you fake it? Do you pretend that you want to see Fried Green Harry Met Sally While You Were Sleeping with your girlfriend/wife/escort? Or do you announce that it's torture for you and that she really owes you? And Petra, do you expect your husband to put up with chick flicks? Or do you go see them with your friends and leave him alone?

Whoa. That was a mouthful, wasn’t it? (That’s what she said.) Okay, Marinka, the blogger with the most beautiful avatar image ever (seriously, go check it out), I believe in brutal honesty about tastes in films…after the first ten dates. Before that point? The guy better pretend he wants to take me to see Hotel For Dogs or Twilight (for the third time, but who's counting?). But once we’ve kissed, then the guy is free to go ahead and watch all the Die Harder With Extreme Prejudice films you want.

As an aside, you should know, just in case you’re ever traveling through my home state, Utah: You can’t legally touch lips until after the tenth date. If you’re still dating by the fifteenth date, then according to the state laws, you are legally married for all time and eternity. Look it up, folks. If you don't believe me, then I'll be happy to send the missionaries over to your house.

Blogging Mama Andrea said...

When your visiting you or your spouses family for a week and your spouse asks you if you wanna 'get it on' cause everyone's sleeping, what would YOU say?


Well, Andrea, may I call you Andrea? Andrea, my in-laws only live 40 minutes from my house and I can’t think of a circumstance where we would be staying a week at their house, unless, of course, it was the apocalypse or something. They have the best stockpile of food storage ever, plus they live in a mountainous area, so I could see myself just using their house as a home base until we could built an inpenatrable underground fortress to wait out all the looting and lawlessness that's bound to accompany the end of the world.
Back to Andrea's question.

I don’t know about you, but when my husband says to me, “Wanna get it on” it can mean only two things. He either wants to Greco-Roman wrestle or have some sort of a dance off. Is that what you were referring to, Andrea? Because if not, then you're going to be really disappointed in my answer. You see, in the Steenky household, a dance off or a wrestling match is a perfectly acceptable means to settle almost any dispute. The only exception, of course, is the age-old arguement of who is funnier. For that, of course, we jump on the bed until it breaks and then hold that dissagreement over the husband's head for eight years.

So, "getting in on" at my in-laws house? Would I do it? Absolutely. Have I done it? Yep. Just a few weeks ago while at dinner at the in-laws, Jeremy and I had a small disagreement about the phrase "flesh this out". For whatever reason, he thought the way to say that phrase was, "flush this out." We debated this most important point in front of twelve other people while as our lasagne got cold until we finally came to our senses and decided to "get in on" in the form of a dance off. In front of the entire family.

To make a long, and quite strange story short, Jeremy was the victor. This probably does not come as a big surprise to those of you who know of my dancing handicap. Jeremy pulled out an awesome dance sequence that included the Running-Man, the Worm and a new move he created especially for this contest that he called the "Oh Yeah? Flush This, Jen!" I have to say, the Oh Yeah? Flush This, Jen looks an awful lot like someone just jogging in place while flipping the bird, but Jeremy swears it's a highly technical dance move. I might believe him.

Natasha from Exile on Mom Street said...

So how do you deal when the much-adored sibling is a complete asshat?

First, please allow me to tell you that you have quickly become one of my favorite people for simply using one of my favorite words in your question. Asshat. Does it really get better than that? I don't think so.

Okay, Natasha, this question is both easy and yet so complex for me. You see, I have no siblings. It's true, I am one of those only children so my parents have no yardstick to measure me against anyone else. I think for the most part, my parents are relatively happy with how I’ve turned out. I’m financially independent, I earned a college degree, I’ve given them two grandchildren and I’ve never had to be bailed out of jail. What they overlook is that I tend to have liberal views, I’m not the best housekeeper and I’ve been arrested. To be fair, they overlook the whole arrested thing mainly because they don’t know a thing about it.

So, Natasha, you’ve got a brother or sister that’s a royal asshat, huh? Well, I'm not sure if it's wise to take advice from an only child on how to expose your asshat sibling for what they are, but here goes:

1. Take out an ad in your parent's local newspaper, half-page would do, and list all the asshattery your sibling has been up to. Don't be afraid to dig deep, you know, go back a few years. People respond powerfully to stories of one sibling not sharing with another sibling when they were children. If anything, this just establishes a pattern of poor behavior on the part of your sibling.

2. Fake a haunting at their house. Create the illusion of some random ghost villain and torment them until they eventually give in and admit that they are, indeed a jerk. (If you're not exactly sure how to go about this, just watch any episode of Scooby-Doo.) Disclaimer: your plan will most likely go more smoothly if you own glow-in-the-dark paint, own an abandoned castle or if you're a crooked real estate developer. Honestly, don't all Scooby-Doo episodes revolve around land developers?

3. Talk to your sibling. Tell them how you feel. If they argue with you, then would you consider challenging them to a wrestling match? No? Okay, then, dance off it is!

____________________________________________

I am sure everyone will agree that Steenky Bee's answers were sufficiently superb. And if you don't, then I don't want your kind hanging around my blog anyway, so go bother Dooce or something.

Next week we will be back to our regularly scheduled program with me and the Captain "flushing it all out" on THURSDAY (got that Moe?). And we also need some more super cool questions to put your thinking caps on (you know, the one with the two beers and the straws?) and leave us some questions in the comments section so you too can be featured in an HBSB post in the near future. Do it for me, for the Captain, for Steenky Bee, for Christopher, hell, do it for the damn linky love you get out of it, I don't care. Just don't let HBSB die a slow, painful death because we have no more questions. That would blow.

An update for those of you sweet and supportive readers who have been following my progress with the About.com job--I will be moving on to Round 2 (the final round) this week and hopefully will rock their worlds with my page layout prowess. I have no idea how long this round lasts or when I will find out if I got the job, but I will keep you posted. Thank you SO much for all the kind words of support, prayers and finger crossing. Keep it up, would ya??

And stay tuned this week for another SEXIS article and my next EdenFantasys.com product review AND giveaway. Believe me, you don't want to miss this one. This item is so awesome on so many different levels and it comes complete with a priceless story of the first time we (my husband and I, not me and the Captain) used it. Don't worry, nothing too graphic, just hilarious. As hilarious as Steenky Bee? Probably not. But close. With more vibratory goodness.

And everyone loves some vibratory goodness.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Proof That Men are, Indeed, BIG BABIES and Scam Artists

Well, if you are here then either you know that He Blogs, She Blogs was changed to Thursdays, or you were just visiting anyway and got this pleasant surprise. Welcome to the first Thursday edition of He Blogs, She Blogs. The Captain and I noticed that Mondays were a little slow and thought that we might get a more enthusiastic reaction if we did this kick-ass experiment in male/female relations a little later in the week. Or maybe everyone just thinks this sucks, and if so, this might be the last edition of He Blogs, She Blogs EVER. Don't let that happen people. Leave a comment. Leave a question. Get the badge and put it in your sidebar, for the love of blog! Don't be single-handedly responsible for the death of HBSB. You'll never forgive yourself.

Well, now that the guilt-tripping is taken care of, let's move on to what the Captain and I will be waxing on this week. You'll have to forgive me because I am pretty distracted at the moment, so my answers may not be as witty and insightful as usual. Got a lot going on, if you know what I mean. I won't bore you with the details but part of the distraction is due to a new job I am competing for, and if I get it, let's just say that it will be ABOUT time that someone paid me to actually write about something that matters to me. But, unfortunately, I might have to cut back somewhat on my blogging, which makes me feel like I might have a panic attack. But it is a fantastic opportunity and will offer my family some much-needed financial stability, so it's a necessary evil. Enough about me, let's talk about:

MEN.

Well, three out of the four questions are about men. The other one is kinda bi-sexual. You didn't know questions could be bi-sexual did you? Well, you learn something new every day. Today we will be fielding questions from Mo "Mad Dog" Stoneskin, Blogging Mama Andrea, SSP from Smarty Pants Rants, and Jen from Sprite's Keeper. How many questions has Jen asked anyway? Not that I'm complaining, I'm just thinking we may start having to charge her for all the free therapy...

Mo said: Here's a question, and it is a boring one, so I would understand if you and Petra just rolled your eyes (collectively) and ignored it, but How do you manage blog time in between family time? Or put another way, how do you prevent blogging and commenting, etc. from infringing on quality family time? I ask because it can be difficult at times.

Not a boring question at all Moe! I mean, come on, not all questions can be about sex, drugs and rock 'n roll right? This is actually a really good question, and I hope that I am qualified to answer it. I think I do a fairly good job of balancing my blog and my family, but I am one of the lucky few that are able to work 100% from home, so I tend to do a lot of my blogging during the day in between work. It goes a little something like this:

-20 minutes of work
-get my daughter a drink
-30 minutes of blogging
-bring my daughter to the potty
-read my daughter a book
-15 minutes of work
-get out the play doh/paint/Moon Sand for my daughter
-45 minutes of blogging
-clean up said play doh/paint/Moon Sand
-snack
-get daughter a snack
-25 minutes of blogging
-30 minutes of playing with daughter
-30 minutes of work
-an hour of reading blogs and commenting
-lunch for me and my daughter...

...and so on and so forth. OK, I don't do THAT much blogging during the day, cause I do actually get some work done. But blogging and working during the day leaves me available at 4 p.m. to put the computer aside and devote all my attention to the kids, helping my 8-year-old with his homework and playing with my 2-year-old, as well as starting dinner and doing some stuff around the house. Then I won't get back on the computer (usually) until after the two kids are in bed at about 8 p.m. Most nights I try to limit my evening time on the computer to either none at all or under an hour so that hubby and I can sit and watch TV and he doesn't feel like I love my computer more than him. Cause I don't. Really. Don't look at me like that.

At the end of the day, my family comes first. When things get too busy, I don't blog. I get backed up on returning comments or I don't post for a couple of days. I feel bad, but my family is number 1, even though I do love you guys to pieces. It's just so hard getting all the love and affection that I need from you through the computer screen.

Blogging Mama Andrea said: You said you hadn't gotten any questions yet so I'll toss you one. In the middle of the night the baby cries. Do men truly not hear it or do they just pretend not to so they don't have to get up?

Thank you Andrea! I want the straight shit on this one, because I MARVEL at how my husband can sleep through a hysterically screaming baby in the middle of the night when I awake at the first little peep before the actual crying even begins. And all I have to say is, if this IS indeed a scam, it is one of the most brilliant of its kind because inevitably, all us moms have learned to give up after we have poked, prodded, shaken, and yelled at our husbands to go get the baby only to get a grunt and a roll, and gone and taken care of it ourselves. Well played. Well played indeed men. You are masters of deception and laziness. Is that something to be proud of? Not so sure. But it's an accomplishment, none the less. It's right up there with the comedy of Andrew Dice Clay and the development of Olestra.

SSP said: so, I get the "no sex with shoes" thing, but what is it ABOUT shoes, particularly the FM pumps that gets a man going? is it the fragility they impose on a woman and her ability to get away, the look of the leg, or is it, like it is for me, simply the shoe? As a woman, perhaps distantly related to Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City, the right pair of shoes can do wonders for my libido.

OK, I must fess up here that for a little while, I had NO CLUE what FM pumps were, but then I finally put the pieces together and realized that it stood for "Fuck Me" pumps, which must be the best kind of pumps there are. Unfortunately, I don't really own a pair. I think I have a pair of "Feel Me Up" heels, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that they inspire quite the reaction that FM pumps would. I do know what she is talking about though, and I am pretty sure that the high heels serve a dual purpose. First of all, they make us look taller and more slender and accentuate our legs, and they remind men that we are women and they are men. Just like skirts, makeup, aprons, and the like, the high heeled shoe (particularly of the FM variety) just screams "I am woman, hear me click, click, click, click." Unfortunately for me, I can't stand wearing high heels and avoid it as much as possible. So I have to replace the FM pumps with something else that reminds my man that I am a woman. Such as a pair of boobs. Those work pretty well too.

Jen said: Hm, I think I have a question! When I become ill, I just plug on about my day and try to silence the symptoms as best I can. When the husband gets sick, he announces every little twinge he feels. What is he looking for, soup or sympathy?

Amen. God forbid we need a "sick day" or some time to recover from an illness; nobody else can be bothered to take over our motherly duties so we can rest, but if Dad gets sick, he needs his rest and gets to sleep in the bedroom while we silence the children to keep quiet so he can recuperate. Then when he finally makes his appearance, he is a useless lump on the couch who needs to be waited on and given plenty of TLC and sympathy. Nobody waits on us. In fact, we continue to make the meals, bathe the children and clean the house when WE'RE sick. What's the deal? Is this just God's way of proving that men are babies and women are truly the stronger, far superior sex? It just may be. I don't know about you, but I would rather have the sick time. Is this negotiable? Is there a union?

Well, now's the time to go over and visit my hilarious friend Captain Dumbass over at Us and Them for the manly version of this post. I am sure he is going to be all "blah, blah, blah, men need their sleep, blah, blah, blah, man-colds are so much worse than woman-colds, etc. etc." but I am sure he will have some pretty good stuff to say as well. So go check him out. Unless you have already been there, and in that case, just come back next week for more. We'll be here.


Monday, March 9, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: The Truth Comes Out

Today we have questions I, personally, have always wanted the male perspective on, so I am pretty pumped to read what my bud Captain Dumbass has to say. And hopefully all you ladies will be just as thrilled to get some answers to these age-old questions (well, maybe not age-old, but at least a couple decades old). As most of you know, He Blogs, She Blogs is a fun way to get both sides of the story on some burning questions from our readers, and have some laughs along the way. Today we have questions from Jerlyn from BadKarma, who just happens to be CAPTAIN DUMBASS' MOM (how awesome is THAT?), Alice, Moonspun from Moonspun Spins, and Giggle Pixie from Caffeine and Cabernet.

So let's see what Momma Dumbass wants to know: age old question that has never been addressed. Why do men clutch the tv remote to their chests, why do they carry them with them
around the house. and WHY for heaven sake do they insist on flicking through channels to 1/2
watch some other show-AND MISS GOING BACK TO THE SHOW U WERE
TRYING TO WATCH. a lot of hostility here!!!

Thank you Jerlyn! This is an issue we have every day here at the Wise Young Mommy house. My husband has come dangerously close to having his head cut off (or at least his sheets shorted) for surfing during the commercials and not going back to whatever we were watching, thus causing me to miss VITALLY IMPORTANT portions of the show. How rude. Why is it that he finds it necessary to flick around from a baseball game, to Ultimate Fighting, to The Girls Next Door, to Yankee Workshop or some other horrid DIY show that he never watches more than five minutes of so he would never be able to "do it himself" anyway? Not to MENTION the fact that I will be looking for the remote and find it stuffed in the couch cushions, on the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, or lying ALONGSIDE the other remote in the bedroom. What is so hard about putting the remote down in a visible area when leaving the livingroom? It's not like I would DARE to change the channel, knowing fully well that the television is obviously his domain because of all the high quality manly programs of which he has to see two minutes each. But then, when I finally put my foot down (for House, American Idol and Big Love ONLY), wouldn't you think it would be simple human decency to NOT change the channel during the commercials and get caught up watching some show on engineering bridges on National Geographic so that by the time you switch back, I have missed something important that prevents me from being able to keep track of what is going on? Simple human decency, folks. Is that so much to ask? I think not.

As you can see, Momma Dumbass, there is some hostility tied into this issue for me as well ;)

Alice said: Okay, here's one for you: why the h*ll can't I see Mr. Linky? I can't link up on any of the good Carnivals anymore!

All right, maybe that won't work for he blogs/she blogs. How about the long hair vs. short hair thing?

OK, I have no idea about the Mr. Linky thing, but the long hair vs. short hair discussion is a hot topic for me. I have had every length of hair, from a super short pixie cut when I decided I had had enough and literally told my neighbor to cut it all off, to long hair past my ass that I would sit on. And there is one conclusion that I have come to: I just don't feel as attractive and womanly with short hair. I always regret it, I always end up crying, and I always then wait rather impatiently for it to grow back. Luckily, I haven't cut it real short in a while, not since I did it right after my daughter was born (one tip: hormonal, sleep-deprived mom + drastic haircut = DISASTER), so I think I have learned my lesson. However, every time I cut it short I have at least a dozen and a half people tell me that short hair looks SO good on me, and that I have "the face for it," whatever that means. And those same people, when I tell them that I don't feel as attractive or womanly, tell me that it doesn't matter whether my hair is short or long, that it still looks attractive and sexy and all those things that I have always yearned to be and never felt I was. Obviously, my husband tells me that he would love my hair at any length, and that he has liked it short, but I just know that secretly he likes it better long. I am sure that it is a personal preference and that not every man feels the same about it, BUT I have this feeling in my gut that most men prefer long hair. Maybe it's because of all the images I have burnt on my brain of long-haired, big tittied women who are plastered all over men's mags and billboards across the country. That could be it.

Moonspun said: ANYway...question for HBSB: What's you belief on 'spousal privelege?' If your BFF or someone tells you a secret and says "don't tell anyone" do you think they will know you are going to tell your better half? Because that what your better half is for? To hold secrets like that because you trust them and need to bounce the secret off someone you know will be true to you. Thoughts?

Oh, this is a tough one. I have to admit that I tell my husband almost EVERYTHING I do and say with almost EVERYONE I interact with. Most topics of convo with anyone are fair game for me to bring to my husband, because he is truly my best friend and sounding board, and I don't like to keep anything from him. That being said, if someone close to me told me something having NOTHING TO DO WHATSOEVER with my husband or our relationship and they promised me not to tell ANYONE because it was that sensitive or embarrassing, I would keep that promise. I also realize that while talking to any of my friends that anything I say will probably be relayed to their significant others, thus I don't say anything I wouldn't want passed along, unless I preface it with a "please don't tell anyone, EVEN your husband." Because I know how close and sacred the bond between man and wife is, and that few things are kept out of that circle. But friendship is sacred too, and if there is something my friend doesn't want people to know, I will guard it with my life. Cause I would want them to do the same for me.

Giggle Pixie said: Why can't I get my husband to understand that walking into a room and saying "Wanna go have sex?" doesn't exactly make my motor purr?

Especially when, if I take him up on the offer, he throws off all his clothes, jumps into bed, and then just lays there waiting for me to "make something happen"?

I am very sorry to say that I can't relate to this one, because I am usually the one that says "hey, wanna go have sex?" and then proceeds to go get naked and lay in the bed and wait for him. I'm not really sure why, I guess when I get in the mood, I just want to get on task and get going. No need to waste time, right? But believe me, once I am in the buff and awaiting the fun to begin, I fully intend on getting "warmed up" if you will, before anything is going anywhere. Men seem to think sometimes that we are just like them and can just "turn it on" at any moment and be ready for penetration. Haven't they learned by now that when that tactic is used, things are only painful and awkward? My biggest complaint is when I wake up in the middle of the night to hubby on top of me and, let's just say at 2:30 in the morning when I have been sleeping for four hours, I am not exactly "prepared." But I have to admit that my hubby is usually VERY good at getting me fully ready for the "big show." Sometimes I think men just get a tad ahead of themselves. Again, due to the blood being taken away from the brain to the genitalia. It's scientific.

There you have it. Those are my thoughts, now head on over to the Captain's place and see what he had to say. I know I am anxiously awaiting his answers this week.

You may have noticed the new header that I made (shut up, I am no graphic designer) on this week's post, and there is also a nice little button to the right just waiting to be snatched up by YOU and put in your sidebar on your blog. Please, help spread the word about He Blogs, She Blogs, get all your friends in on the fun and display that little sucker on your site. It would be MUCH appreciated and I will give you tons of virtual hugs and kisses. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO See? I told you.

And finally, Captain Dumbass and I would like to announce that we will be changing the He Blogs, She Blogs schedule a bit so starting next week we will be posting it on THURSDAYS instead of Mondays. Sorry if we mess up your week or confuse you. Feel free to lodge a complaint. Simply go to Captain Dumbass' blog and leave a disgruntled comment.

Sorry Cap'n.

I hope everyone has an incredible week and keep coming back for more He Blogs, She Blogs shenanigans!!

Monday, March 2, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: Shoes, Fish and Metros OH MY!

Today I would like to start this week's edition of He Blogs, She Blogs with a little description of what we are doing here since there may be some new readers due to bringing on Captain Dumbass. He Blogs, She Blogs was developed by myself and Jim a.k.a. Heinous from Irregularly Periodic Ruminations to put a funny spin on comparing the thoughts, ideas and opinions between the two sexes (well, the two main sexes; we won't get into the "fuzzy areas"). It is not a competition, you are not supposed to choose a winner--this is simply for fun, to see how we differ and are the same. The questions we are answering come from the readers, and we are always looking for new questions to add to the list, so if there is something you want discussed, leave your question in mine or the Captain's comments and we will add it to the pot. Or send us some pot along with your question and we will be sure to get to it right away. Yes, we can be bought, and no, we have no scruples.

So today I let my awesome partner put on the big boy pants and choose the questions for the first time. We have my very own lesbian internet lover, Cat from Zipbag of Bones querying, along with Tony from, surprisingly, Life with Tony, Lawyer Mom from A Lawyer Mom's Musings, and Matt from DC Urban Dad posing hard hitting questions for us to tackle. Here goes nothin'...

Cat said: Question for the new duo: "Metrosexuals" - awesome new breed of hetero, or same old breed of in denial?

I love me my metrosexuals. I have actually been trying to slowly and strategically convert my man into one since I first met him, sneakily and subversively so he won't notice. It worked until I bought him a scarf for Christmas two years ago. That was when he figured out what was going on and put his foot down (his foot clad in Kenneth Cole designer sneakers, I may add). But let's be clear, there is a very big difference between a "true" metrosexual, such as David Beckham or Ryan Seacrest and a "bi-sexual" in sheep's clothing who swears that he's straight but just loves Liza Manelli and Cosmopolitans. I think the real metrosexual is the rugged, athletic man who is not afraid to buy incredible shoes to go with an outfit or an awesome hat. He uses the right hair products to make his messy 'do look "just right" and is not afraid to wear jeans that actually fit and pair them with the right accessories. He may even rock a man-purse, but that particular breed of metro is hard to find. He has to be sufficiently testosterone fueled and comfortable with his male sexuality to pull that off. What, I ask you, is wrong with a man's man that likes to look and smell good? I say nothing at all. However, if you notice him checking out Hugh Dancy's ass at the premiere of "Confessions of a Shopaholic" that his "stylist" got him the tickets for, then you may be dealing with a much different breed of man. That's all I'm sayin.'

Tony said: This is going to be good - there are a few things I've wondered about, such as why do women try on 20 different things, asking us how they look in each one and then end up wearing the first thing they tried on? Why do women ask us which shoe matches their outfit better - dude, I don't even care if they wear shoes or not much less if they match their outfit.

I know the answer to this question, and I am going to rock your world and change your life forever. Women DO NOT care what you think of their outfit, or their shoes, for that matter. They know what they like and they are going to choose the outfit that they thinks makes them look the thinnest and most savage, while making their ass look good. What said women want from these little "fashion shows" with their men is for you to tell them that EVERYTHING looks great because they look great in EVERYTHING. Then the woman feels good about herself, chooses the outfit that is most flattering and you get laid. So play along, enjoy your blow job and the world is a happy place, m'kay?

A Lawyer Mom's Musings said: Hmm. I've got a few questions. Like, how come men are born knowing how to clean fish and can even eat those same fish afterward? How come men have no problem looking at a naked uncooked turkey and removing the giblets, while women (if they're like me) run from the kitchen heaving at the sight?

This is one of those questions that can be answered by taking a look at history. Well, pre-history actually. We are talking WAY BACK to the beginning of time when Mr. and Mrs. Neanderthal shared a two-bedroom cave in pre-historic times with their two, smelly neanderthal children. This is about men's love of the HUNT and them showing off their skills with a knife, because back then, that was HOT. There was nothing more attractive to Mrs. Neanderthal than seeing her man come home with a great big boar thrown over his shoulder and then slaughtering it right then and there for them to eat. Cause, you know, food wasn't always around, so Mr. Neanderthal's ability to hunt and fish and then clean and cut up said animals was his greatest attribute. So, you know, they didn't DIE. Plus, there were no metrosexuals, so women based their attraction to their mates on their mad slaying and fileting skillz.

Now that we have food readily available though, it's just not as hot as it used to be...go figure.

DC Urban Dad said: How about shoes? Or okay, sex.

Most women love shoes. Some women love shoes a little bit too much. I love shoes, however, I do not spend a lot of money on them because I think that is a (gasp!) waste of money. I would much rather buy a killer pair of jeans or a new blouse than a pair of Jimmy Choos (not that I could EVER afford a pair of Jimmy Choos anyway). But I know there are some women a la Carrie Bradshaw who would choose to buy a pair of designer shoes over food for the week. Now, most men (the non-metrosexual variety) own a pair of dress shoes, a pair of sneakers and a pair of boots and are all set. But, for women (even me), there needs to be more available for different kinds of outfits, events and/or weather scenarios. So yes, men and women view this topic a little differently. The good thing about this is that men's lack of shoes leads to there being a lot more room in the closet for the woman's shoes. So this is one of those facts of life that helps maintain the delicate balance and homeostasis of the sexes.

Now as for sex...I say "YES PLEASE." Does that answer your question?

I hope I answered your questions sufficiently. Now, if you haven't already, head over to Captain Dumbass' crib and see what he has to say about these matters. Contrast, compare, laugh, and ponder, cause that's what this is all about! Remember to leave us a comment if you have a question and check back next week to see if it makes the list.

Thanks for joining us and peace out homies!

Monday, February 23, 2009

He Blogs, She Blogs: The Next Generation

Welcome to a new era of He Blogs, She Blogs. Granted, the first era wasn't all that long, but hey, I am excited to start anew with my darling friend, Captain Dumbass from Us and Them, who is taking over for Jim from Irregularly Periodic Ruminations. We hope Jim will be back someday, but for now, I have the Captain and he will serve as a superb distraction. As you all know, the Captain won the blogging competition to earn the spot of "He" to my "She," so this week he gets to strut his stuff and show us all why you chose him. Don't worry, Captain, no pressure.

For anyone that hasn't had the "He Blogs, She Blogs" experience yet, we will be answering four questions posed by four different readers. You can read my womanly, intelligent and witty answers here, and then go on over to Us and Them to read Captain Dumbass' answers straight from his testosterone soaked, Canadian brain. Yes, he is Canadian. Don't hold it against him, OK? He's pretty damn awesome, even if he does say "aboot" and is addicted to grilled cheese porn (that last part is my fault anyway).

So today we are fielding questions from Jen from Sprite's Keeper, Christopher from Cajoh, Cat from Zipbag of Bones and Frogmama from Frogs in My Formula. These happen to be four of my favorite people in the blogosphere so I hope to make them proud with my femalerly answers. (Yes, I know that femalerly is not a word, blow me.) Enough of all the fanfare, on with the show. Please sit back, relax and return your tray tables to the upright position.

Jen from Sprite's Keeper said: Here's a question: Who is better at multi-tasking? Men or women?

I think the first question that needs to be answered here is "who is better at TASKING?" because that pretty much answers the second question. I don't know "aboot" you guys, but at my house the ladies (a.k.a. ME) take care of all the tasks that need to be done while the men sit around watching television and drinking beer. However, if you count scratching your balls and operating the remote control as multi-tasking, then my husband has it all locked up. Supposedly he gets a lot done at that place he goes to every day called "the office" and it is possible that he multi-tasks there, but I have never actually witnessed it, so for the sake of honesty, I can't actually say that he is capable of it. For me, I am a pretty slammin' multi-tasker, since I have two kids and I work from home. There have certainly been days when I have been forced to be working on the computer, with a screaming toddler in my lap while quizzing my 8-year-old on his spelling words. Then there's dinner time when I am cooking, doing dishes, ushering the 2-year-old out of the kitchen every two minutes or so, yelling at my husband to get the 2-year-old out of the kitchen, AND drinking a rather large glass of wine. So multi-tasking? I think I win. My theory behind the whole thing is that men's penises take too much blood away from their brain, thus making it difficult to think about more than one thing at one time. It's purely biological.

Christopher from Cajoh said: Here's a question: Does either of you have a partner that snores? I know I can sleep through a hurricane, but I know others can't sleep if the other snores. What words of advice do you have to those suffering sleep deprivation due to their partners' nose flute solos.

My husband does snore, but usually only when he is REALLY tired or has had a lot to drink. Back in the beginning of our relationship, I bought ear plugs to wear, but with two kids in the house, it's not all too wise to not be able to hear someone calling out in the middle of the night. So I devised the perfect solution to the problem a few years ago.

I kick him.

Works every time.

Cat from Zipbag of Bones said: GravatarLove this idea. It's so...peace/love/understanding.

Hmmm. I would like to know what men REALLY think about cellulite. They say it isn't there (um, yeah it is), they say they can't see it anywhere (what are you, blind?), they say they like our real woman asses much better than all those smooth-assed celebrities (how is that possible?) - so I want to know the TRUTH about cottage cheese thighs.

Cat, you are in luck because I know the answer to this question. Men see cellulite. There is NO WAY IN HELL that they don't see it. However, if you have a good man, a man that likes his private areas the way they are, and a man who likes getting laid on a fairly regular basis, then he knows that this is SUCH a trick question. If we ask if they can see our cellulite, they know that if they say yes, we will devastated, even though WE know it's there and that almost every woman has it. Men don't want to hurt our feelings, especially if they love us or get to see our boobs. They also know that we will pout and not speak to them for anywhere from one hour to three days if they DIDN'T say that they liked "real" women asses more than celebrity air-brushed appendages. But ladies, this isn't a bad thing. Even though, deep down, these men do think that perfectly smooth thighs, buns and various other body parts are more aesthetically pleasing than our "cottage cheese" thighs, they are choosing to be with us, and since we are so FUCKING AWESOME, they don't care. I am pretty sure my husband would rather have my cottage cheese thighs wrapped around his waist than be looking at an airbrushed photo of Heidi Klum (that bitch that has perfect everything after having two children, whatthefuckisupwiththat?). What matters is that we make them feel hot, and we are REAL. And they love us. So they pretend not to see it and tell us we're beautiful. And you know what? I believe it.

Frogmama from Frogs in My Formula said: GravatarI wanna know why men are such lazy, slovenly pigs who think farting, burping and BO are funny traits to pass along to their children?

Boys have different wiring than girls. It's as simple as that. And men are simply large, overgrown, hairy boys who still think almost exactly the same way that they did when they were 9 years old. Nothing was funnier to them back then than ripping off an SBD or burping the alphabet, and honestly, it's still funny to them now. Now imagine that they have their own little miniature versions of themselves--what is funnier than teaching them the tricks of the trade and watching them follow in their flatulent, stinky shoes? Apparently, not much.
Personally, I hope to pass along my love of literature and sense of humor, but who's to judge? As long as my husband also teaches them to take out the trash (which I must admit he does beautifully), then I am OK with the other stuff.

But really, it is a little bit funny, isn't it ladies?

So now head on over to Captain Dumbass and read what he has to say on these matters. Give him some love and congratulate him on his first week of He Blogs, She Blogs. Then come back next week for more awesomeness. Don't forget that next month we have guest posters Steenky Bee and Cajoh filling in for us, but please pretend that you aren't just secretly waiting for Jen to take over for me because she is so much cooler than I am.

Thanks; I appreciate your sensitivity.I knew there was a reason I kept you people around.

Monday, February 16, 2009

And the Winner Is...ME!

And the reason I am the winner is because I had so many incredible daddy bloggers competing for the spot of blogging alongside me for He Blogs, She Blogs and they courted me just fine. OK, more than just fine. Every single one was FUCKING AWESOME. Almost every e-mail vote I received stated how hard it was to choose the winner because they were all so perfect, and because of that, I have added a little twist to the scenario, which I will share with you shortly. But in the meantime, let's talk about the results of the voting. And here it is:

Second runner up and winner of a year's supply of KY Jelly is a THREE WAY TIE!!!

We have Ron from Clark Kent's Lunchbox,

Ian from Idiot's Stew, and

Ryan from Pacing the Panic Room!

These three guys all brought it to the table so let's get a round of applause for this super group of guys!

[APPLAUSE]

And next, first runner up and winner of a signed framed photo of The Wise (*Young*) Mommy is...

Christopher from Cajoh!!!

Good job man! (Enjoy the photo, and don't sell it on e-bay!)

And finally, the BIG winner of the He Blogs, She Blogs competition is...

CHAD FROM US AND THEM!!!!

(Insert wild applause, confetti and noice makers here.)

Yes, folks, in a landslide win, readers said that Chad made them laugh, cry and ponder, and thus, he was the one they felt deserved to provide the male perspective in He Blogs, She Blogs for the duration of Jim's absence. I must say, I am thrilled. Because I think that Chad is an amazing writer, an awesome dad and a funny sonofabitch to boot. Plus, he's adorable and charming and can trash talk the pants off you any day. Fo' real, this dude has it all locked up and I know he will fill Jim's shoes just fine (and maybe, just maybe, the cowboy hat. We'll see...)

Congratulations Chad! I hope you are ready for the challenge. I'm not easy to work with, you know.

I want to send out a hearty thank you to all the other excellent dad bloggers who participated in the blog-off; they were so great and they helped make it an incredibly hard decision for everyone. Thank you to Kevin from Irish Gumbo, Joe from Crotchety Old Man Yells at Cars and Matt from DC Urban Dad. You guys are the bees' knees and will not be easily forgotten. Which brings us to...

The surprise you have all been waiting for! I had so many suggestions that I should let all the fellas participate that I have decided to add a little twist to He Blogs, She Blogs. Starting in the month of March, we will have one male/female He Blogs, She Blogs guest posting duo that take over for me and Chad once a month. The male guest posters will start out consisting of the other contestants, first being Cajoh, and then the others in turn. And the first female guest poster will be someone very special, and very close to my heart, and also someone who has been a bit MIA lately and very much missed. The one and only adorable, talented and self-deprecating...

STEENKY BEE!!!!

Careful people, don't fall off your work chairs or spit out your coffee. I know how exciting this is (especially for me, since I ADORE Jen over at Steenky Bee and the opportunity to work with her makes me quiver with anticipation). Stay tuned for the exact date for Jen and Christopher's first HBSB guest post, and feel free to throw me some suggestions for other female guest posters you would like to see in the future. I will be choosing women whom I think will bring justice to the topics, as well as work well with the fantastic dad bloggers with whom they will be interfacing. However, I am not an island, and I am fully open to suggestion...

In closing, we are starting to run out of topics, so PLEASE leave me some comments with questions you want answered by my new partner, Chad, and I for future segments of He Blogs, She Blogs. Next Monday will kick off our run together, and I can't wait. Excitement and hilarity awaits, and you WILL want to be a part of it.

Be there or be square.

Oh yeah, and don't forget to come back for the rest of the week for my giveaway spree! Tomorrow kicks it off with the See Kai Run review and giveaway, followed by Zoom Album on Thursday and Eden Fantasys on Friday. Free stuff!! W00t!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Final Day: Clark Kent's Lunchbox vs. Pacing the Panic Room

The final day of the He Blogs, She Blogs competition has finally arrived and we have our last two contestants to tickle your funny bones and stimulate your philosophical brain juices. Yes, I said brain juices. These two bloggers always impress me because of their uncanny ability to make me laugh while also making me think about things intellectually (God DAMN them!) They each have their own unique style of writing that makes me feel a little dumber (in a good way, if that is possible) while also making me strive to be a better writer so I can feel less dumb when reading their posts. Did that make any sense? Probably not, cause I have had two glasses of wine and cleansed all day and now my head is spinning, so here are the contestants, I hope you enjoy them, excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom now...



Ron from Clark Kent's Lunchbox

When Petra first set up this contest, I thought “cool,” that was until I saw who else would be vying for the honor, an uneasiness only compounded by the questions our gracious host sent me several days later. Having recently completed a stint at the Betty Ford Clinic for a Midol addiction, I found it a difficult proposition to pen answers adequate enough to meet her readership’s venerable expectations without fighting the urge to reach for my secret stash just one more time. Thankfully, I triumphed against the temptation, opting instead for half a bottle of Scotch and a handful of Columbian Adderall which quelled the shakes long enough for me provide today’s other entry. I only hope it’s not an embarrassment to the Wise Petra or my peers.

Okay, as a guy I know the very notion is supposed to turn me instantly incredulous. “What?! Too much sex? That’s like too much money or too much football. What kind of stupid…yadda yadda, yadda.” So let’s just skip the pretenses and get to the down and dirty for a moment. After thinking long and hard about it, I kept coming back to the core issue of what actually constituted “too much sex.” To claim there is such a thing as too much sex implies the existence of some degree of balance, and to find that happy medium would require the identification of its converse, “too little sex.” Having experienced this end of the spectrum in my first marriage, I found it relatively easy to build a list of criterion for spouses to measure their love lives against. Consider this, you might be having too little sex if:


- When others ask to see a picture of your spouse you (wives) hold up your favorite two fingers, or you (husbands) show them the palm of your hand.

- When attempting to be seductive (wives) you regularly sneak roofies and Viagra into the meatloaf, and (husbands) tired of choking on meatloaf 6 nights a week you slip under the table to the dog when she’s not looking

- On the rare occasion you do have sex with your spouse, the long stints of do-it-yourself pleasure cause you to reflexively call out your own name in the throes of passion.

- You find yourself taking the tests and quizzes that your kid brings home from their high school sex-ed class, and you’re failing.

- Thinking someone else will get more use out of it, you pass all your lingerie onto your mother.

- You only perform sex in the missionary position on religious holidays, but no matter how much you pretend calling out to God, it still feels likes hell.

- Desperation leads you to view phallic-shaped produce as being for more than just something in a salad or loaf of bread.


Or


- Your genitalia are collecting unemployment benefits.


These are bad signs to be sure but so too are the qualifiers for too much sex which include:


- Your vagina is so calloused from overuse it has the same consistency as a used catcher’s mitt.

- Your penis starts to splinter.

- You think David Duchovny and Jenna Jameson are amateurs.

- You want to move to Thailand, not for the sex trade, but so the words “Bangkok” will appear in your mailing address.

- You purchase Cialis at discounted prices offered online by Canadian health care system and carry it around in a Pez dispenser.

- You think the story lines in pornos are believable and thus find yourself confused when the pizza guy actually delivers a box with a meat lover’s supreme instead of giving you a meat lover’s supreme in your box.

- Desperation leads you to view phallic-shaped produce as being for more than just a salad or a loaf of bread.


Or


- You’re these people


At this point, the issue was sort of like the one Goldie Locks faced. Having identified both the hot porridge and the cold porridge, deducing the porridge deemed as “just right” seemed elementary. But then it occurred to me I was forgetting an essential element: intimacy. Intimacy is for all intents and purposes, the essence of making love, establishing not only the caliber of the act itself but also the health of the relationship as a whole. Thus the real issue is not so much a matter of the amount of sex in a marriage as it is the actual quality of it based on the closeness both spouses feel. In the end, it doesn’t matter if your pubic hairs are balling up into dry tumbleweeds, or that Penthouse has requested you refrain from sending them any further home videos; if there is a lack of intimacy, that is the problem. Otherwise, frequency is all in what you have the rime for.


I’m going to assume right off the bat that this excludes porn, which, probably is a good idea given how my wife, after seeing my collection of skin flicks, burst out laughing over its Disney-esque tameness. Of course, this is the same woman who’s into “torture porn” like Hostel and the Saw series. Myself, I’m not exactly what you would call a “big fan.” Sex and severed limbs isn’t really my scene, but still, her tastes were fine by me, that is until I discovered the bloody ball-gag and power drill hidden under our bed, which may also explain why I woke up the other day in a bathtub full of ice with an incision roughly where my kidney used to be.


As evidenced by my wife, everyone has their opinions as to what constitutes a great movie, making it nearly impossible to arrive at any single consensus. Some prefer anything with subtitles on the screen, while others require a substantial body count before the credits start rolling. Even so, when it comes to categorizing preferences, automatically the easiest to point out is the dichotomy between the sexes. On one hand women are thought to be all into “chick flicks” that typically involve either well-dressed socialites slurping down martinis and commiserating about their much maligned love lives, or star-crossed, pre-pubescent teen lovers fighting fate in order to be together – oh, and one of them has to be a vampire. On the other hand, guys are pegged with only having an interest in movies containing gratuitous violence, gross-out humor, and scantily clad babes.


I have to admit, this is a perception we men tend to be guilty of perpetuating by our own volition. Take, for example, the way we run around using popular lines from those sorts of films. It’s a crime I am guilty of myself, even though I absolutely suck at it. When my buddies wonder aloud in a British accent as to whether they do or do not make me horny; or if they clench their jaw, declaring how much they love the smell of napalm in the morning, the hilarity abruptly ends in an awkward silence as soon as I recite one of my favorite lines which typically come from any film based on Nicholas Sparks novels.


Don’t get me wrong, Black Hawk Down, Gladiator and 40 Year Old Virgin are all among my favorites, but the point I’m trying to make however, is that the qualifying term “good” is subjective to the individual. For me, a good movie is one that keeps me thinking about it well after exiting the theatre. In fact I could absolutely hate it, but if the picture leaves enough of an impression that I find myself dwelling on its premises, discussing it with my wife or researching its background information, then something about it must have been too meaningful for me to just forget.


Keep in mind that, for me, forgetting is a reflex akin to breathing, so to remember something (and from a movie no less), usually means I’m being pushed either out of my routine thought pattern or into some meaningful interaction with others. And, really, how can that be bad? It’s a flimsy premise, but still, I would have to say any time you watch a movie and as a result learn something new after Google about it, start a deep conversation with your girlfriends over another round of Cosmo’s, or bond with your amigos as you laugh from quoting memorable lines, then there’s probably something about the film that could be deemed “good.”



Ryan from Pacing the Panic Room


1. What makes a great movie?


Trying to define what I think makes a truly great movie is about as hard as trying to explain why I will eat 6lbs of cheeseburgers and then roll around on the floor in pain, and still won’t let Cole throw away my super sized fries because I’m going to finish them “just as soon as I’m done being sick.”


I’m pretty sure that I hate other peoples opinions about movies, so more than anything else, I am reluctant to explain what I think is so great about a movie. In the end it doesn’t fucking matter what I think. I am not of the mindset that there are “bad” movies per se. One persons biggest piece of shit ever made, is another persons best movie ever. I will agree that there are masterpieces, and then there is mass produced drivel, films made by committee and entire scripts drafted around marketing concepts. But as long as what you’re watching entertains you to the core (even if it’s mass produced drivel), then you have witnessed something truly great. To be clear, if the escape of watching a story unfold before you completely steals you away from life, and you let go of burden and worry and sadness to take in this distraction, then it is indeed truly a great movie. No matter what anyone else thinks about it. Wouldn’t you agree?

With that said and established, the best way I can answer the question is to say: What makes a great movie, is whatever turns your screws. And perhaps an even bigger point to consider would be WHO you’re watching your movies with. If you are stuck sidled next to some egomaniacal self-proclaimed movie snob than you probably aren’t having very many “great” movie experiences. How can anyone enjoy a movie when someone is bombarding you with sighs and grief over how awful THEY think something is? They burden and cloud your experience and escape, with their code of what is super awesome and what is not. The majority of films are made for no other reason then to offer some form of silly escape and not every film made has to be Citizen fucking Kane…which I am willing to bet as much as everyone boasts of its greatness, very few people can REALLY explain why it’s great. They just know and have been taught to say that it is. It’s like assholes that say they love jazz but have no idea what they’re hearing, or for that matter even how to listen to it properly. Back on track.


MOVIES…


There are people that passionately believe that their taste is superior and therefore an authority on the subject, and they dedicate hours and pages to the breakdowns and diatribes of why something is perfection and another is total garbage, but in the end they are just one persons opinions. And most times we tend to hate a person when they tear down the things we love, and thus classify them as pompous and know it all. UNLESS of course they are agreeing with your exact sentiments as to why something was the cream of the crop, then of course you praise and parrot around their reasons to sound insightful to your friends. Suckers. I personally tend to take recommendations from people that I respect, or find to be like-minded, and most critics are socially inept and intolerant of anyone that has a differing opinion. I don’t hang out with people like that in my real life, and certainly don’t want any advice from anyone with these traits and tendencies. So why the fuck do I want them telling me why they thought Paul Thomas Anderson makes his movies too long? I personally would joyfully, gladfully, gleefully, watch another hour or two of ANYTHING he’s made.

Now of course I know the measure of greatness applies when things steer away from story, and the discussion turns to technical achievements and attention to detail. But in the end, we aren’t really THAT interested in any of that. If we were, perhaps they would have the courtesy of actually airing the Technical Oscars that they give out each year. Don’t you think?


(*for any wives out there that want a super awesome suggestion of an amazing film to bring home or rent that will totally earn you cool points with the husband get: “Hearts of Darkness.” It’s a documentary made by Francis Ford Coppola’s wife about the making of Apocalypse Now. It’s amazing. AND a perfect example of how nobody thought during the making of that film that it would ever turn out to be considered a masterpiece or a classic. It was a complete and utter disaster from the start and almost drove her husband permanently insane.)


2. Body Piercings - awesome adornment or disgusting turn-off?

Oh what a slippery slope when you start getting personal about personal tastes, but in the effort to provide the male perspective I will try my best to answer this as honestly as possible without hurting any feelings to the punctured. First I have to say that I’m not like most men, consider me more like an older sister, a girl that still loves to fuck women, but just wants to wear pants all the time, boss you around, make fun of other girls outfits, gossip, and go shopping. I care about fashion, and what people wear, and how they wear it. So I feel like I’m overly sensitive to trends, and a HUGE turnoff for me is when people start clinging to the outdated. When people can’t let go of a decade. The death rattle for body piercing as a fashion forward trend has been shaking since Y2K was debunked as a ploy to sell bottled water and shotguns. Let me get specific (and then let me get personal). When the 90’s were winding down there was a bleed over from the youth culture lining up in droves to get anything and everything pierced with cool cold steel. The top of the millennium was the last gasps of this as hardcore trend, and it was then adopted by another generation, picked up not by counter culture youth, but by the manufactured cookie cutter image of what a “hot sexy female” should look like.

When you’re 18 years old and you want to feel unique and be exciting, the idea of sticking shit in your face, or lacing your back, or stretching your ears so they hang down as low as my ball sack; doesn’t surprise or even worry me. What freaks me out is when people are well into their adulthood and they start doing shit to feel young, or to be sexy, to fit a mold of what men “want.” Again as I said before I am not like most men. I hate fake tits, and fake tans that turn you orange, tramp stamps, bottle blondes (roots), and of course the belly piercing. “The dangler” Now before I get on a tear, I’m fine with a few things. A small petite nose piercing is all kinds of hot on the right face. A girl has to wear earrings... so yeah I get that. Have I been attracted to girls with metal in their face? Of course I have. Some people can just get away with things because they are simply gorgeous humans. There will always be exceptions. The “disgusting turn-off” (as Petra posed it) comes in when I see an ear covered from top to bottom with studs, or an eyebrow ring (bleck, sorry a ball of vomit just hit my throat and got stuck there for a second) snakebites, or tongue piercings, all of it just not sexy even a little bit. I do have to give special close attention to my hatred for the sound of a girl clicking her tongue piercing around on the back of her teeth. Its torture is only matched by the pain of listening to a person stirring macaroni & cheese... which to me sounds like someone shoving a wet sticky tongue into my ear and fucking it.

The body piercing is that thing that screams: I’m so desperate to be attractive. Feel sexy. Be unique. Look how edgy I am. Look at me, look at me, I’m appealing. I stuck this shit in my body, SO WILL YOU PLEASE LOOK AT ME. I understand the point of it. It’s the same basic concept of a good shiny lure in a creek, you use it right, and you’re going to snag yourself a perfect prize fish. A belly ring shining there on your navel draws the eyes in, and we are to then notice what a gorgeous body you have. I get it. I just don’t think it looks sexy, feels sexy, or that it’s cute, and it certainly doesn’t make you unique in any way. Pretty much anything that my tongue has the chance to come in contact with during hot dirty sex should not have metal in it. I understand that there are some women that have shoved steel thru tits and clits because they are after more intense stimulation, and the want of a good hard orgasm will drive a woman to try many many things. However in the throws of passion, if I were to stumble across a piercing, it feels like the equivalent of finding a hair in your soup, your sitting there drinking it down, and then you feel something on your tongue that just doesn’t quite belong there, and you want it out of your mouth. That’s what it felt like when I had a pierced nipple in my mouth. YUCK! Thankfully I do not have this problem as my gorgeous wife does not currently have any piercings for me to navigate. Unless of course I fail as a husband and neglect her as the temple she is, leaving her with the need to “feel” pretty and worshipped.

Did I answer your question?


Thank you all for reading all the contestants' submissions for this here little "blogdown." You may all commence voting by e-mailing me at the wiseyoungmommy@gmail.com with your choice of a replacement for He Blogs, She Blogs - one vote per person. I know it's hard people, but better you than me. Remember to vote for the blogger that you would like to read opposite me every week, the one that makes you laugh, makes you think, and the one that makes me look thin.


Good luck to all the awesome dudes in the running - they made my YEAR for agreeing to participate and I can't WAIT to see who takes home the proverbial crown!

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Day 3: The Cap'n and DC Urban Dad

Today's two daddy bloggers in the He Blogs, She Blogs blog-off will not only impress, but will charm the pants off you (don't worry honey, I mean figuratively) with their tales from the crib. The first, Chad from Us and Them (a.k.a. Captain Dumbass), a dad to toddlers, and the other, Matt from DC Urban Dad who has an almost toddler, both put a funny, edgy spin to fatherhood that always has me doubled over in laughter one moment and enjoying a good case of the warm and fuzzies the next. Let's see what they have to say today, shall we?


Chad from Us and Them

The vivacious and talented Petra of The Wise (*Young*) Mommy put out a call last week for young champions to fill the shoes of our beleaguered hero, Heinous. I don't know about filling the man's boots, but for a chance to wear the cowboy hat? Hell ya. I don't think I could sport his 'stache either. Sure, I could grow one, but if it doesn't make me look like Tom Selleck, what's the point? Anyway, Petra called and I barked like a dog. Sure we're all getting played, she gets seven free posts out of this and if she can stretch it out long enough Jim might come back in time to save her from us mooks, but who cares, she smiled, we jumped.


Petra emailed my two test questions the day after I threw my hat in the ring. The first question I received was "what makes a great movie?" My eyes glazed over as soon as I read it. Partly because I've been inflicted with man-cold and am dying and partly because I was dumbstruck. Movies? Moo-vees? Those are like TV shows but longer, right? Like if I watched Mickey Mouse Club House four times in a row? "Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog!" Sigh. I remember the days when Supreme Leader and I watched everything that came out. And I mean everything. When the Oscars came on, we could judge all the nomineees' performances because we'd seen them. Back when we were 'courting' I remember seeing many movies twice because we arranged a date and she suggested something I'd already seen before. Remember JFK? Remember how long that damn movie was? Like a day and a half or something. Oh yes, I was smitten.

What makes a great movie? It's not as easy a question as it may seem at first. Like wine or music, I think what makes a great movie is very personal. I could list off obvious things like a great cast, a superb script, cinematography, yadda yadda yadda. For you that may have been Titanic. Titanic for me was blah blah blah, Kate Winslett's boobies, blah blah blah, awesome ship sinking scene, blah blah, dear GOD is this over yet I have to pee so bad! Now before you write me off as a typical guns & explosions movie guy, let me state for the record that I love chick flicks. For reals. Yes, I did see Fried Green Tomatoes. When Harry Met Sally is one of my favourite movies. Four Weddings And A Funeral? So cried during John Hannah's eulogy. Love, Actually? Loved it. That said, let's not get the wrong idea here, I also believe Die Hard to be a watershed moment in film.

For me, a great film is something that stays with you, whether it's the whole film or just a moment of it. Something that you connect with whether it's laughter, tears, anger, fear or you actually learn something. And it doesn't matter whether it's good or not. Whether it's Schindler's List or Weekend at Bernie's. It's what hits you and sticks. It's knowing every song from The Sound of Music because your mother made you watch it with her every time it came on while you were growing up, and then loving it because she did and you were sharing something with her. It's enjoying the new Star Wars movies with your children despite the terrible dialogue and good God Lucas why not just let somebody else do it? It's knowing the original movies were no different but not caring because you're remembering them through the eyes of a seven year old and nothing will ever shake that wonder. It's the opening scene of Finding Nemo when Marlin is holding Nemo's egg and promising him he'll always take care of him and then the egg turns into the moon and the music swells and your chest tightens and you squeeze that child in your lap just a little tighter and kiss his head and silently promise him you'll do your best and please, oh please still love me when I don't.

What makes a great movie? Now a days, a great movie is one that's playing on a weekend my wife doesn't have to work and when the grandparents are free. What it is is irrelevant.

The second question was: Is there such a thing as "too much sex" with your spouse? How much sex is "enough?"

Too much sex? Sex? Hold on while I Google that. Sex! Right, that's how those little monkeys got here. Those two little monkeys who wander into our room without warning anytime of night or early early morning. Those two stars in my sky, those two little soul vampires. Those two little last minute wrestling, snacks, brush teeth, wash, read bedtime stories and snuggle before bed at 8pm when mommy and daddy can watch a couple hours of adult TV, talk about their day between commercials and collapse into a drooling sleep at 11 and awake at 6:30am when the youngest decides it's time to get up monkeys. Ya, I remember sex.

All kidding aside, can you really have too much sex with your spouse? I mean, if you're losing sleep and drifting off at your job, if you're getting friction sores, sure, that might be too much. Otherwise, no, there's no 'too much sex.' I think most couples' problem is too little. How much sex is enough? For the overwhelming majority of us, I'm guessing not as much as we're getting now. At least those of us with kids. Gone are the days you could have a quickie on the couch or a little 'afternoon delight.' We joke about it, but it is serious. It's an important part of your relationship that gets neglected in the day to day exhaustion of work and kids. Maybe Petra has some advice to give. Petra?

So there's my two cents worth. Hope you enjoyed it. I took some time and read a bit of the other candidates' work before I started writing, and I can honestly say I would not feel bad losing to any of them. All would make a fine He to Petra's She. Except for Gumbo, of course. The guy's a hack and I know he's done hard time for embezzlement. And Ryan. I think 'he' is actually a 13 year old girl in Jersey and his photo is just an actor because I'm pretty sure I've seen him on those late night all-male chat line commercials. Just sayin.

Kidding. If you are one of my regular readers please don't vote for me 'just because.' Make sure you read all seven posts and vote for who you think will do the best opposite Petra, even if it's not me.



Matt from DC Urban Dad


1. Shopping - yay or nay?

You just had to give me this one. Oh well, before I write what I am about to write let me go ahead turn in my dude card once and for all and damn I just got it back.....

Okay now that's done and I'm prepared for the comments (go ahead and call me Nancy, it ain't the first and not the last), let me set the record straight.....

Not all men hate to shop.

Me, I'm a closet shopper. Take me to the mall and let me peruse Pottery Barn, Restoration Hardware, JCrew, Banana Republic, Nordstroms, or Bang and Olufsen and I can stay pretty content for a few hours. You never want to see me again, drop me in Best Buy. If you want to help you pick out clothes I will do it, but remember YOU (yes you) asked (ASKED) for my advice. Oh, but don't ask me to go into Victoria's Secret - I refuse to feel like a pedophile.

And don't ask me to try shit on. That is where I draw the line.

The men that do like to shop, their idea is to get in, get out, get on with your life. We are quick decision makers - we see a shirt, we like it, we buy it. Shoes, they look comfortable, bag 'em. Sweater, great colors, will match my pants, charge it.

The fact is we don't try on. I repeat DON'T. That is what free returns are for.


2. What makes a great movie?

So what makes a great movie.....ladies ya'll gonna love this response, but it depends.

I know what you are thinking......just like a man to not really commit to an answer right?

Sorry to disappoint, but it does. Let me put it this way....movies are kinda like sex. Some times you want it nice and slow hit all the right spots, other times you ain't got the time so you just want it fast, others times you just want it hard. It's the same reason dildos come in different shapes, sizes, motions, colors, etc.

Well movies are the same way for men. A great movie depends on the mood and the participants.

Are you hanging with your guy friends? If so, men want a full on Action Flick. Shit should be blowing up every 10 to 15 minutes at the very least. Plot is not key, but it is a plus. We also don't want too much sex - a boob here and there - hell yes, but full on action - no. Ain't no need in getting wood while you are sharing popcorn with your best bud. That ain't cool.

Are you hanging by yourself in the afternoon? If so, guys will lean on a good sappy Sports movie. You sure as hell don't wanna be crying over Brian's Song or Field of Dreams while sharing Milk Duds with your chica.

Had a tough week? Men want comedy all the way - Pineapple Express, Old School, Anchorman, 40 Year Old Virgin. Something that will make you laugh and forget that you need to hit the reset button on your 401K and work till you are in your 80s. Something that does not force you to think.

Are you with your woman? Forget what Mary J says, bring on the Drama - we wanna show our serious side. That we're intellectual and can understand complex scenarios and deep relationships. It also adds for extended conversation after the movie is over.

Are you with your extended family? One simple letter will suffice "G". That's all the movie you need. Ain't nothing worse than watchn' Diane Lane take it hard from that dude in Unfaithful while you are sitting next to your Grandmother-in-law. Once again, no wood necessary.

So there you have it. What makes a great movie? It depends.


I don't know about you, but I am sitting here with my head spinning from the awesomeness that I have been exposed to for the past three days. It's hard to believe that we still have two more competitors to go. I mean, can we get any better than what we have already read? Only time will tell, for tomorrow we will be exposed to the sweet bloggy perspectives of Ron from Clark Kent's Lunchbox and Ryan from Pacing the Panic Room. Saved the best for last or too little too late?

You will decide.

Peace out.
 
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