The Truth about Female Disadvantages

Being female must be rough. Seriously ladies, props for sticking it out.

There just seem to be so many inconveniences. You’re top-heavy, you apparently have to perform seventy intricate operations during the course of a single shower, you spontaneously bleed from sensitive orifices. Oh, and the worst part…your life is dictated by proximity to a restroom.

Men don’t have to plan their days around bathroom accessibility. I never have to worry about making sure I’m within sprinting distance of a pristine and well-stocked restroom, because having a penis is a license to urinate in public.

Public urination isn’t technically legal…but that’s never been a deterrent. Men are urinary assassins. We pee sneaky, and we pee fast. By the time you see us walking away, your SUV has already been defiled. Hit and run, baby.

I personally suffer from the wicked combination of a small bladder and an affinity for liquids, which means that I’m either peeing or refilling my pee tank pretty much 24/7. Luckily I’m a man, and the world is my toilet.

 

I have marked much territory in my time. If we lived by animal rules, I would own half of Northern CA by now. Do you reside in the greater Bay Area? At least one corner of your house is probably mine. Recognize. By the laws of the wild kingdom, I am within my rights to annex a portion of your property at will.

Now, there might actually be one or two benefits to being female…I just can’t think of any. Socially acceptable bisexuality? Advantage in custody disputes? Free drinks? Hmm.

I’m stumped, so feel free to chime in. Meanwhile, I’ll be systematically marking up your neighborhood, doggy style…

The Truth about Rebellion

I like the idea of nonconformity. As a theory, it’s peachy. Who doesn’t want to be all distinctive and unique like a fingerprint?

But in practice, I’m kinda over it. Mostly because of these people:

Look at how defiantly individualistic I am! Just so you don’t mistake me for one of the mainstream sheep, I shoved a metal bar through my nose and stretched my earlobes so wide that a circus animal could leap through the holes. Also, note that I wear dark colors to indicate my melancholy mood and general dissatisfaction with society. Oh, and check this out—I have short, spiky hair even though I’m a girl! Craaazy. Ask me if I’m gay, I dare you. Seriously, ask me, because I’m angry at my parents and looking for a fight. Eff the man.

Sigh.

Rebellion just seems so feeble these days. Ok emo kid, we get it. You’re not a fan of the mainstream media. And yeah, since I shop at American Eagle I guess that makes me a giant tool. Yawn. Tell me all about your favorite Indie bands again.


Honestly, does “nonconformity” even exist? People who truly refuse to conform are behind bars or in loony bins. The rest of us fall in line eventually. We’ve all agreed to cover up our naughty bits in public, keep our hands to ourselves, and communicate with each other coherently. Try not doing those things for a week. Wearing black isn’t non-conformist…go bare-ass for a month, then I’ll be impressed. Unless you’re in a nudist colony. Then you’re just a follower.

“Rebellion” is really just minor divergence within a narrow spectrum of acceptability. If you feel the need to deviate from the norm in a wacky-but-still-socially-acceptable manner, fine. Apparently, getting dirty looks from soccer moms makes you feel like a badass. Soak up all that disapproval. But unless you’re speaking gibberish and painting your walls with feces, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re a rebel.

Hey, I could be wrong. I don’t want to step on anyone’s dreams here. Maybe those facial tattoos really are hardcore and rebellious. You’ll never get a job, but you sure will scare the sheep. If it’s going to make you feel better I’ll cross to the other side of the street when I see you. There. Did that help? Now you can convince yourself that I’m threatened by your individuality.

Congratulations, rebel. Mission accomplished.

The Truth about Stereotypes

Stereotypes are tricky. On the one hand they can be insensitive and cruel, but on the other hand they’re super useful for making quick decisions.

Let’s say it’s late at night, I’m in a sketchy neighborhood, and a bunch of black guys in saggy jeans and dewrags are approaching. Guess who’s ducking into the nearest 7-11 for some quick Slurpee action? (Kiwi-Strawberry ftw!) Sure, these guys are probably misunderstood—they could be returning home from a sewing circle or weekly book group for all I know—but then again, stereotypes don’t just appear out of nowhere. For instance, everyone knows about Asians and driving.

Some stereotypes, though, have absolutely no basis in reality. I work with lots of Mexicans, and none of them are lazy. In my experience I’m way lazier than a Mexican. But stereotypes persist, because there are always going to be a few people who actually fit the bill.

What really sucks is when you’re a member of a stereotyped group and you encounter someone who exemplifies all of those negative stereotypes. Like, if you’re a smart Polish guy and you meet a stupid Polish guy, that’s gotta be frustrating. You’re thinking: nice work, stupid Polish guy. You’ve provided reinforcement for a million jokes at our expense.

The same thing happens to normal, well-adjusted Americans when visiting other countries. You’re being all polite and culturally sensitive and then you run smack into a big gaggle of fat, yapping Midwestern American tourists, and you just want to shoot these idiots in the face and stuff them down the nearest manhole to hide them from public view.

The other side of the coin is the positive stereotype. Surprisingly, these can be equally damaging. Just imagine being a black guy with a small penis, or a Japanese dude who sucks at math. Ouch.

Conclusion: stereotyping, while useful and fun, should be avoided in most situations.

Oh, and btw I was totally kidding about Asians. We all know that women are the worst drivers.

The Truth about Reality TV Shows

“Reality TV” is an oxymoron. There’s nothing “real” about being followed around by a camera crew 24/7…unless you’re a reality TV star. Technically, reality TV should be called “reality star TV,” and should only be viewed by other reality TV stars, since no one else can identify with their particular version of reality.

But look, there’s no point in trying to untangle the weird circular logic employed by television producers. That way lies madness. The fact is that the reality TV genre is inherently dishonest, and some shows are worse than others. Notable offenders:

 

 SURVIVOR

 Survivor may be the ultimate example of deceptive marketing. Twenty seasons in, still no casualties. This show isn’t about survival, it’s about spoiled Westerners struggling to cope with a lifestyle that happens to be commonplace for a sizable portion of the world. Starving in the jungle? Not fun. Now we know.

Of course, whenever one of the contestants is in danger of actually not, you know, surviving, s/he is quickly whisked away to a shiny American hospital. I imagine that’s helped the survival rate.

 

WIFESWAP

 Take a crazy conservative Midwestern mom, swap her out for a weird-ass liberal West Coast mom, hijinks ensue. Reality TV gold.

Once again, the real problem with this show is that the title promises more than the show delivers. Who’s better in bed, a liberal MILF or a conservative MILF? The viewing public wants to know.

 

EXTREME MAKEOVER HOME EDITION

Is it bad that I DVR through the “heartrending tragedy” portion? This show is 50 minutes of guilt followed by 10 minutes of architectural awesomeness. On the plus side, you can learn about all kinds of obscure diseases.

I used to force myself to suffer through the squalor and misery, but no more. It’s all of the weeping that gets to me. The construction workers are weeping, the family is weeping, the hosts are constantly weeping. How much do you want to bet that there’s an actual “weeping clause” in their contracts? I’m guessing they get paid by the liter. Can you imagine a job in which you’re contractually obligated to break down and cry on a weekly basis? Must be draining. Sidenote: if you ever want to know the current market-value of a gallon of Reality Show Host’s tears, ask ABC.