Posted on 08/21/2005 9:18:13 AM PDT by nuconvert
From here on, let women kill their own spiders
BY DAVE BARRY
Aug. 21, 2005
(This classic Dave Barry column was originally published on Feb. 14, 1999.)
From time to time, I receive letters from a certain group of individuals
that I will describe, for want of a better term, as ''women.'' I have such a letter here, from a Susie Walker, of North Augusta, S.C., who asks the following question:
'Why do men open a drawer and say, `Where is the spatula?' Instead of, you know, looking for it?''
This question expresses a commonly held (by women) negative stereotype about guys of the male gender, which is that they cannot find things around the house, especially things in the kitchen. Many women believe that if you want to hide something from a man, all you have to do is put it in plain sight in the refrigerator, and he will never, ever find it, as evidenced by the fact that a man can open a refrigerator containing 463 pounds of assorted meats, poultry, cold cuts, condiments, vegetables, frozen dinners, snack foods, desserts, etc., and ask, with no irony whatsoever, ``Do we have anything to eat?''
Now, I COULD respond to this stereotype in a snide manner by making generalizations about women. I could ask, for example, how come your average woman prepares for virtually every upcoming event in her life, including dental appointments, by buying new shoes, even if she already owns as many pairs as the entire Riverdance troupe. I could point out that, if there were no women, there would be no such thing as Leonardo DiCaprio. I could ask why a woman would walk up to a perfectly innocent man who is minding his own business watching basketball and demand to know if a certain pair of pants makes her butt look too big, and then, no matter what he answers, get mad at him. I could ask why, according to the best scientific estimates, 93 percent of the nation's severely limited bathroom-storage space is taken up by decades-old, mostly empty tubes labeled ''moisturizer.'' I could point out that, to judge from the covers of countless women's magazines, the two topics most interesting to women are (1) Why men are all disgusting pigs, and (2) How to attract men.
Yes, I could raise these issues in response to the question asked by Susie Walker, of North Augusta, S.C., regarding the man who was asking where the spatula was. I could even ask WHY this particular man might be looking for the spatula. Could it be that he needs a spatula to kill a spider, because, while he was innocently watching basketball and minding his own business, a member of another major gender -- a gender that refuses to personally kill spiders but wants them all dead -- DEMANDED that he kill the spider, which nine times out of 10 turns out to be a male spider that was minding its own business? Do you realize how many men arrive in hospital emergency rooms every year, sometimes still gripping their spatulas, suffering from painful spider-inflicted injuries? I don't have the exact statistics right here, but I bet they are chilling.
As I say, I could raise these issues and resort to the kind of negativity indulged in by Susie Walker, of North Augusta, S.C. But I choose not to. I choose, instead, to address her question seriously, in hopes that, by improving the communication between the genders, all human beings -- both men and women, together -- will come to a better understanding of how dense women can be sometimes.
I say this because there is an excellent reason why a man would open the spatula drawer and, without looking for the spatula, ask where the spatula is: The man does not have TIME to look for the spatula. Why? Because HE IS BUSY THINKING. Men are ALMOST ALWAYS thinking. When you look at a man who appears to be merely scratching himself, rest assured that inside his head, his brain is humming like a high-powered computer, processing millions of pieces of information and producing important insights such as, ``This feels good!''
We should be grateful that men think so much, because over the years they have thought up countless inventions that have made life better for all people, everywhere. The shot clock in basketball is one example. Another one is underwear-eating bacteria. I found out about this thanks to the many alert readers who sent me an article from ''New Scientist'' magazine stating that Russian scientists -- and you KNOW these are guy scientists -- are trying to solve the problem of waste disposal aboard spacecraft, by 'designing a cocktail of bacteria to digest astronauts' cotton and paper underpants.'' Is that great, or what? I am picturing a utopian future wherein, when a man's briefs get dirty, they will simply dissolve from his body, thereby freeing him from the chore of dealing with his soiled underwear via the labor-intensive, time-consuming method he now uses, namely, dropping them on the floor.
I'm not saying that guys have solved all the world's problems. I'm just saying that there ARE solutions out there, and if, instead of harping endlessly about spatulas, we allow guys to use their mental talents to look for these solutions, in time, they will find them. Unless they are in the refrigerator.
Nothing more needs to be said. It's all true.
pong
Except I have to admit my wife kills the spiders nine times out of ten. Plainly gets a sadistic joy out of it.
LOL, I'm not frightened of spiders, now rodents, that is a whole other story.
My four year old daughter was on an hunt to kill a spider in her room last night... her father wouldn't let her. I wonder if he was protecting her, or the spider?
Was it a male spider? ;~ )
I cringe when I'm told, "It's in my purse." I hate digging through that thing, one of several, all Euro-designer, each of which cost at least 10x my 10 year-old little wallet...
The fridge and the coffee table are my favorite places to hide things. Now, as for men thinking, nope I don't believe it. Usually, I mow the yard but for some reason Mr. M decided he'd give me a belated b-day gift (oh, be still my heart!) and mow it for me Monday. He broke the mower. Wednesday, he called for me to come get him and his broken motorcycle. I told him it was either the fuel pump or a fuse. Thursday, he called to ask for the 14th time where he should take the motorcycle. Later, Thursday, he called to ask what he should do with his broken down pickup and after much encouragement took it to my prefered shop. Friday, he asked me for money because the motorcycle shop doesn't take cards (it was the fuel pump). He knew that in advance but as always failed to get cash from the bank - hey, the bank of Mrs. M is open. BTW, I do kill all the spiders and other creatures in my bare feet because I don't have enough shoes to get one dirty.
Men, can't live with them. Can't live with them.
Make that 20x.
My husband will always kill the spiders.
ALWAYS!!!!!
Just give me a bag of Chili Cheese Fritos, and I'll be happy. :^)
Of course, my husband does not quite fit the MO here. . .he stands in front of the drawer and asks. . .'where is the spatula'. . .
ROFL how I love dave barry.
really funny.
There was a 5 foot long corn snake trying to escape through a hole along the wall. My date ran outside to get him with the hoe. I grabbed the tail (the safe end) to hold it still. He whacked at it for a while , but could not get a straight shot. I
waited, but decided to finish this. I yanked the black demon back through the hole and severed its head with a few strokes of my machete.
My beloved came around the corner to look at the carnage.. His face was blank. "I have never seen a woman do that before."
I tried to look dainty and demure, but it was too late. I just wish I had time to go and but proper snake killing shoes.
I need a beer column now to make the day complete.
You betcha!... : ) <<< me
"I am picturing a utopian future wherein, when a man's briefs get dirty, they will simply dissolve from his body, thereby freeing him from the chore of dealing with his soiled underwear via the labor-intensive, time-consuming method he now uses, namely, dropping them on the floor."
ROTF!!! How funny!
>>>I cringe when I'm told, "It's in my purse." I hate digging through that thing, one of several, all Euro-designer, each of which cost at least 10x my 10 year-old little wallet...<<<
Hmmm, that would get you sleeping on the couch in our house. :) When I tell my husband "it's in my purse" he gets my purse and brings it to me, then stands waiting patiently, or not, while I dig around in it. I don't rifle through his wallet and he doesn't go through my purse, even if I tell him its okay.
And I don't kill spiders. I think it's the crunching sound they make that puts me off. I just throw shoes at them, spray them with hairspray or shaving cream and scream for my husband.
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