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We always hear “the rules” from the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules! Please note… these are all numbered “1″ ON PURPOSE!
1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You’re a big girl. If it’s up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don’t hear us complaining about you leaving it down.
1. Sunday = sports. It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.
1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it
that way.
1. Crying is blackmail.
1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do
not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it!
1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.
1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That’s what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.
1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In
fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.
1. If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, don’t expect us to act like soap opera guys.
1. If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us.
1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.
1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.
1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions and neither do we.
1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that.
1. If we ask what is wrong and you say “nothing,” we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
1. If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, expect an answer you don’t want to hear.
1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine… Really.
1. Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, the shotgun formation, or monster trucks.
1. You have enough clothes.
1. You have too many shoes.
1. I am in shape. Round is a shape.

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God, you know what really bugs me? It’s the stupid IE title up top that AOL put’s there. You know where it says:
Microsoft Internet Explorer provided by America Online
Well no shit sherlock, I mean christ thank GOD! somebody at AOL decided to put that there otherwise i’d never know what I was looking at. I’d probably just stand here slack jawed drooling like an old abused lab monkey staring at wonder at my screen wondering exactly what I was looking at.
So I finally figured out the place in the registry to edit it:
[HKEY_CURRENT_USERSoftwareMicrosoftInternet ExplorerMain]
REG_SZ (String Value) =window title , change to whatever you want
Finally, now I can surf the internet in peace. DAMN YOU AOL!

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Inspector: ‘ELLO!
Mr. Hilton: ‘Ello.
Inspector: Mr. ‘ilton?
Hilton: A-yes?
I: You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company?
H: I am, yes.
I: Constable Clitoris and I are from the ‘ygiene squad, and we’d like to have a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the “Whizzo Quality Assortment”.
H: Oh, yes.
I: If I may begin at the beginning. First there is the Cherry Fondue. Now this is extremely nasty. (pause) But we can’t prosecute you for that.
H: Ah, agreed.
I: Then we have number four. Number four: Crunchy Frog.
H: Yes.
I: Am I right in thinking there’s a real frog in ‘ere?
H: Yes, a little one.
I: What sort of frog?
H: A…a *dead* frog.
I: Is it cooked?
H: No.
I: What, a RAW frog?!?
H: Oh, we use only the finest baby frogs, dew-picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and sealed in a succulent, Swiss, quintuple-smooth, treble-milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly frosted with glucose.
I: That’s as may be, but it’s still a frog!
H: What else?
I: Well, don’t you even take the bones out?
H: If we took the bones out, it wouldn’t be crunchy, would it?
I: Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public!
C: Uh, would you excuse me a moment, Sir? (exits)
I: We have to protect the public! People aren’t going to think there’s a real frog in chocolate! Constable Clitoris thought it was an almond whirl! They’re bound to expect some sort of mock frog!
H: (outraged) MOCK frog!?! We use NO artificial additives or preservatives of ANY kind!
I: Nevertheless, I advise you in future to replace the words “Crunchy Frog” with the legend, “Crunchy, Raw, Unboned Real Dead Frog” if you wish to avoid prosecution!
H: What about our sales?
I: FUCK your sales! We’ve got to protect the public! Now what about this one, number five, it was number five, wasn’t it? Number five: Ram’s Bladder Cup. (beat) Now, what sort of confectionery is that?!?
H: Oh, we use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish Ram’s bladder, emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark’s vomit.
I: LARK’S VOMIT?!?!?
H: Correct.
I: It doesn’t say anything here about lark’s vomit!
H: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after “monosodium glutamate”.
I: I hardly think that’s good enough! I think it’s be more appropriate if the box bore a great red label: “WARNING: LARK’S VOMIT!!!”
H: Our sales would plummet!
I: (screaming) Well why don’t you move into more conventional areas of confectionary??!!
(the constable returns)
I: Like Praline, or, or Lime Creme, a very popular flavor, I’m lead to understand. Or Raspberry Lite. I mean, what’s this one, what’s this one? ‘Ere we are: Cockroach Cluster! — – Anthrax Ripple!
C: MMMMWWWAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!
For those of you watching this transcript on your terminal, the young constable has just thrown up into his helmet. This is the longest continuous vomit seen on Broadway since John Barrymore puked over Laertes in the second act of Hamlet in 1941.
I: (continuing) And what is this one: Spring Surprise?
H: Ah, that’s one of our specialities. Covered in dark, velvety chocolate, when you pop it into your mouth, stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge straight through both cheeks.
I: (stunned) Well where’s the pleasure in THAT?!? If people pop a nice little chockie into their mouth, they don’t expect to get their cheeks pierced!!! In any case, it is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat. I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station.
H: (shrugging) It’s a fair cop.
I: And DON’T talk to the audience.

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Look’s like I have some competition with this whole website thing Guess i’ll have to kick it up a notch, or i could just steal all his links
Remember jessie jackson? I can’t tell you how much he bugs me, but here’s a good article on the whole thing. I’m not a NASCAR fan really, or anything at all, but I just hate the image I have of him. Which is of a con artist living off the bullshit he creates, and basically perpetuates discrimination for his own benefit.
Kind of like what I was thinking about earlier, why would pharmecy companies want to cure anything, because then the would go out of business. Same basic thing.
But at least I have a new i want to read now.

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