I Am Man!...Hear Me Whine

Back in the early '70's, Helen Reddy had a hit song called, "I Am Woman", in which she starts out, "I am woman, hear me roar", which I thought was hokey, and all. I still do. But now that I am older, I realize that she was right. Women do all the roaring, while us guys do all the whining.

I should know. I am a man.

Why do men whine? I don't know, but I believe it has something to do with the male DNA. I remember when I was nine, and my mom wouldn't let me go over to Doug's house because his parent's both worked, and we may get into trouble. I'd say, "Come on, Mom, I'll be good!"

It didn't work.

When I was fourteen, I asked my dad if I could go to Woodstock. After a few seconds of contemplation he said, "No, you're too young." I responded, "Dad, I'm almost fifteen. Please let me go!" Unfortunately, it still didn't work.

Almost forty years later, I still whine when I don't get my way -- and it still doesn't work. You would think that I would adjust, change my game plan, so to speak. But no, I'm not that smart. You see, I am married. You ladies can laugh (which I know you are), but how else can a guy get his needs met?

"Honey, I have no clean shirts for work tomorrow." "Why didn't anyone make coffee this morning?" "C'mon, honey, it's Monday night!" "I have no cookies for bedtime!" "Your Lifetime Movie channel is turned up too loud!" ...

If whining were an art form, I'd be Picasso.

The truth is, I whine because it does work (once in a while). She'll do almost anything to get me to shut up.

I Am Man Hear Me Whine

Back in the early '70's, Helen Reddy had a hit song called, "I Am Woman", in which she starts out, "I am woman, hear me roar", which I thought was hokey, and all. I still do. But now that I am older, I realize that she was right. Women do all the roaring, while us guys do all the whining.

I should know. I am a man.

Why do men whine? I don't know, but I believe it has something to do with the male DNA. I remember when I was nine, and my mom wouldn't let me go over to Doug's house because his parents both worked, and we may get into trouble. I'd say, "Come on, Mom, I'll be good!"

It didn't work.

When I was fourteen, I asked my dad if I could go to Woodstock. After a few seconds of contemplation he said, "No, you're too young." I responded, "Dad, I'm almost fifteen. Please let me go!" Unfortunately, it still didn't work.

Almost forty years later, I still whine when I don't get my way -- and it still doesn't work. You would think that I would adjust, change my game plan, so to speak. But no, I'm not that smart. You see, I am married. You ladies can laugh (which I know you are), but how else can a guy get his needs met?

"Honey, I have no clean shirts for work tomorrow." "Why didn't anyone make coffee this morning?" "C'mon, honey, it's Monday night!" "I have no cookies for bedtime!" "Your Lifetime Movie channel is turned up too loud!" ...

If whining were an art form, I'd be Picasso.

The truth is, I whine because it does work (once in awhile). She'll do almost anything to get me to shut up.

I Am Man, Hear Me Whine

Back in the early '70's, Helen Reddy had a hit song called, "I Am Woman", in which she starts out, "I am woman, hear me roar", which I thought was hokey, and all. I still do. But now that I am older, I realize that she was right. Women do all the roaring, while us guys do all the whining.


I should know. I am a man.


Why do men whine? I don't know, but I believe it has something to do with the male DNA. I remember when I was nine, and my mom wouldn't let me go over to Doug's house because his parent's both worked, and we may get into trouble. I'd say, "Come on, Mom, I'll be good!"


It didn't work.


When I was fourteen, I asked my dad if I could go to Woodstock. After a few seconds of contemplation he said, "No, you're too young." I responded, "Dad, I'm almost fifteen. Please let me go!" Unfortunately, it still didn't work.


Almost forty years later, I still whine when I don't get my way -- and it still doesn't work. You would think that I would adjust, change my game plan, so to speak. But no, I'm not that smart. You see, I am married. You ladies can laugh (which I know you are), but how else can a guy get his needs met?

"Honey, I have no clean shirts for work tomorrow." "Why didn't anyone make coffee this morning?" "C'mon, honey, it's Monday night!" "I have no cookies for bedtime!" "Your Lifetime Movie channel is turned up too loud!" ...

If whining were an art form, I'd be Picasso.


The truth is, I whine because it does work (once in a while). She'll do almost anything to get me to shut up.

Middle-Aged, and It Sucks

Feeling depressed today. Kinda feeling my age. Today a very hot flight attendant came walking down the aisle of a 757 jet. Now this aircraft is 150 feet or so long, and I was standing in the rear, so I got a real nice, long look of her and her long sexy legs. It was all very nice until she came up to me, and I gave her my best smile and said "How are you today?". She said "OK" and she didn't say anything more.

I then realized, that I am too old for her to even consider.

I wasn't really all that crushed, until later when I got a chance to think about it. "God damn, I'm never gonna be able to pull prime pussy anymore! I'm old and chubby, and I smell like cigars, and shit! That really sucks!"

And it really does.

Never again will I ever feel the delight of scoring a "ten"... But then considering that all the "tens" are about my daughters age, and that I am married, and that she would cut my balls off if I ever did get that lucky, I felt a little better.

But I still feel old.

Oh well, there are still some hot looking flight attendants that are around middle age that I could still pull. Not that I would, mind you, I am married, and that cutting off of the balls part, and sitting down to pee for the rest of my life, scares me. But never the less, I COULD pull it.

As long as I suck in my tummy.

Negotiating Love

Love when you are young is a special thing. There is lots of exploring, and lots of passion. Love is exciting, and it is spontaneous. You have hooked up with the most lovely girl in the universe, and she lives just to please you.

Then, you do something stupid; you marry her.

Sure, the first couple of years there are still some steamy nights, but after seven years, and a couple of kids, things tend to change. You find your wife is no longer frothing at the mouth to get mounted by you. This is when you realize you will spend the rest of your life negotiating for love.

My brother has been negotiating for love many years now. His best tactic is to tell his wife that if she doesn't want him to get prostrate cancer, she has to let him keep the workings workable...if you know what I mean.

My brother's method works because he has a wife that gives a rat's ass about him. Very rare.  Most of us married guys have to negotiate much harder for their love. Here is an example.

"Come on honey, it's been three weeks." "I haven't felt well. You only think about yourself." "That's not true honey, I brought you home some Chicken McNuggets yesterday." "Yeah, but they were cold." "Come on honey, you know I love you, and will always take care of you." If you did you would show it." "Name it honey, you've got it!" "Well, a trip to Olive Garden might get me in the mood." "Ok, ok Olive Garden it is, but you promise when we get home...." "Well there is one more thing..." "What is it my goddess?" "Clean out the cat box, and take out the trash."

As Rodney Dangerfield would say, "It's not easy being married!"

I Am Man, Hear Me Whine

Back in the early '70's, Helen Reddy had a hit song called, "I Am Woman", in which she starts out, "I am woman, hear me roar", which I thought was hokey, and all. I still do. But now that I am older, I realize that she was right. Women do all the roaring, while us guys do all the whining.

I should know. I am a man.

Why do men whine? I don't know, but I believe it has something to do with the male DNA. I remember when I was nine, and my mom wouldn't let me go over to Doug's house because his parents both worked, and we may get into trouble. I'd say, "Come on, Mom, I'll be good!"

It didn't work.

When I was fourteen, I asked my dad if I could go to Woodstock. After a few seconds of contemplation he said, "No, you're too young." I responded, "Dad, I'm almost fifteen. Please let me go!" Unfortunately, it still didn't work.

Almost forty years later, I still whine when I don't get my way -- and it still doesn't work. You would think that I would adjust, change my game plan, so to speak. But no, I'm not that smart. You see, I am married. You ladies can laugh (which I know you are), but how else can a guy get his needs met?

"Honey, I have no clean shirts for work tomorrow." "Why didn't anyone make coffee this morning?" "C'mon, honey, it's Monday night!" "I have no cookies for bedtime!" "Your Lifetime Movie channel is turned up too loud!" ...

If whining were an art form, I'd be Picasso.

The truth is, I whine because it does work (once in a while). She'll do almost anything to get me to shut up.

Middle Aged...and It Sucks

Feeling depressed today. Kinda feeling my age.

Today a very hot flight attendant came walking down the aisle of a 757 jet. Now this aircraft is 150ft or so long, and I was standing in the rear, so I got a real nice, long look of her and her long sexy legs. It was all very nice until she came up to me, and I gave her my best smile and said, "How are you today?" She said, "OK" and she didn't say anything more. I then realized that I am too old for her to even consider.

I wasn't really that crushed until later when I got a chance to think about it. God damn! I'm never gonna be able to pull prime pussy anymore! I'm old, chubby, and I smell like cigars and shit! That really sucks! And it really does. Never again will I ever feel the delight of scoring a "ten"...

But then, considering that all the "tens" are about my daughter's age, and that I am married, and that she would cut my balls off if I ever did get that lucky, I felt a little better.

But I still feel old.

Oh well. There are still some hot-looking, middle-aged FA's around that I could still pull. Not that I would, mind you.... I am married, and that cutting-off-of-the-balls part scares me....But nevertheless, I could pull it.

As long as I suck in my tummy.