Welcome back to the CJS Love Lounge, my lovelies. Believe it or not, the article you’re about to read below was the catalyst to get me back in the CJS saddle. Yep, our own CJS Regular Jitterrawks sent me a text message that said, “It’s too bad you’re not writing CJS anymore because I have an awful piece from AskMen.com that would be perfect for the Love Lounge.”
Never one to refuse a chance to throw a little acid in the eyes of those queefbangs over at the worst fucking website in the history of existence, I asked her to send it to me with the disingenuous promise that “maybe I’d get motivated to write something.” I thought I was full of shit.
Then I read the chest-beating, faux-populist, misdirected, chauvinist pile of shit she sent me and could resist no more. Getting a nice hate lather going reading the awful scribblings of the simpering bros-before-hos shitheads at AskMen.com made me feel at home. This was my beckon call, and I was ready to hatefuck the internet with an angry screed about poorly reasoned misogyny.
Dagger’s back! So let’s check out the offender.
For those of you new here, the Love Lounge is where I find the most awful dating, relationship, and inter-gender relations articles found on popular websites, and comment on why the author deserves ritual sodomy for poisoning his or her readers with reductive conclusions, broad banalities and misplaced personal anger.
I give you the original in context, my comments follow in italics. Welcome back to the Love Lounge.
Gentlemen, we’ve been had.
We’re a mere 4 words into this article, and we can already tell Charlie Anderson is a huge underwear stain. Anyone who begins an article with the phrase “Gentlemen, we’ve been had” is a guy who thinks anyone gives one narrow hair on a rat’s ass what he thinks about anything. He’s the guy who’s watched that “We will get laid!” scene from American Pie too many times and thinks Henry Rowengartner’s speech is actually inspirational, not hacky and cliche. He thinks the character of Michael from Boiler Room is worthy of emulation. In short, he’s that guy in your crew you fucking hate because everything he says is some trite bullshit peppered with delusions of grandeur delivered with a wink and an “Amirightfellas?!” jab in the ribs.
Women’s wily ways have persuaded us to go along with a series of things we would never agree to if we only took more time to think about them. In a companion article, we listed how men have brainwashed women; now we admit that we’re also on a puppet string.
Don’t worry, that article is just as bad as this one, and yes, we’ll be covering it next week.
From paying for diamonds to taking out the garbage to mocking our dignity with questionable fashion, women have infiltrated our subconscious to persuade us to perform a select list of tasks and consent to behavior without our even knowing.
Thankfully, we’ve spotted this female manipulation and have brought their calculated tactics to the light of day with this list of the top 10 ways women have brainwashed men.
Wow, good work, detective. I am mildly charmed that Charlie still clings to the notion of a malicious female cabal setting some male-manipulation agenda the whole world somehow knows to follow despite the fact that “Seinfeld” offered the finest joke on this scenario a mere 15 years ago. But far be it from me to deny the mouthbreathers silently nodding to themselves at Charlie’s witticisms. This is blatant knuckle dragging fear-mongering in fine form.
We warn you: What you are about to read may be painful, may cut too close to the bone, and may dig up emotions you preferred were buried. But it’s better to learn about it now than stay in the dark indefinitely. Maybe it’s not too late to change the tide.
We shall fight on the beaches! We shall fight on the landing grounds! We shall fight in the hills! We shall never surrender for it is man who shall blah blah blah blah, what the fuck is he talking about?
Brace yourself for the ugly truth, gentlemen. Here are the top 10 ways women have brainwashed men.
No.10 – It’s a man’s job
You do the dishes, vacuum, cook twice a week, do the laundry, scrub the tub, and take on baby duty. But that’s all entry level. “When are you going to mow the lawn?” “Gross, take out the garbage.” “Hello, that crack needs fixing.” The instant you suggest the game’s been rigged, your girl casts a spell on you with four words: “That’s a man’s job.” Suddenly you think, “That’s right, I’m the mother f*ckin’ man),” and proudly wear your Superman shirt to toss the garbage and mow the lawn, convinced you’re doing a public service. You’ve been had, man.
See, we’re being brainwashed here in case you’ve forgotten the razor thin clothesline this entire premise is hanging off of. It’s your ego she’s stoking by claiming it’s “a man’s job” rather than cultural norms that play off our socially cultivated abilities and natural aptitudes of the last 200 or so years that send you to fix the crack or mow the lawn. Dynamite observation, Charlie. We’re all with you so far!
No.9 – Hair removal
We’d grow hair out of our nose, ears, toes, back, knuckles, elbows, and palms if we could (we’ve tried). Let’s face it, we’re half caveman, a quarter gorilla and a quarter Sasquatch. Yet, most women want us to look like the dolphins they have tattooed on their lower back — hairless, smooth and aerodynamic. So, every morning we voluntarily take a blade to our face, pay someone monthly to rip hair off our chest, and on “special” occasions may even pay someone to tear hair from between our legs. Make no mistake, what women praise as beauty steps, the Geneva Convention condemns as inhumane.
OK, I’ll ask: How many women outside of media-generated caricatures like the cartoons on “Sex and the City” actually ask their men to get waxed? I don’t know a single man who’s ever been waxed anywhere on his body, and I live in a major metropolitan city and hang out with a fairly wide assortment of gay dudes pretty much every day. Who is this article aimed at?
No.8 – Her superior sense of fashion
Your girl constantly gives you fashion tips and feedback on your clothes. It’s become so frequent that you’ve even let her pick up things she thinks will look good on you. Uh oh. Now you’re standing in front of a mirror wearing a girlie white shirt with exposed nipples from a V-neck.
Ah, nevermind. It’s aimed at Aldous Snow from Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Thanks for clearing that up.
Meanwhile, she insists, “Mmm, you look just like Johnny Depp,” with a sex-glazed look in her eyes. Sadly, that’s enough for you to hop over the last crumbling wall of your dignity, leave your house and seal your fate to a long night of embarrassment.
Charlie Anderson can eat shit and die. And for the record, this sounds like vaguely disguised wish fulfillment to wear fruity clothes hidden behind the transparent satin curtain of outrage. Don’t make me wear that… well, alright.
No.7 – Shared diet
Five months ago you thought Salba was a dance and tempeh was a spice. Now you’re both eating king-size beds of lettuce with eight different varieties of beans and biodynamic olive oil.
This sentence makes absolutely no sense to me. Can someone please explain it?
Since your girlfriend decided to eat healthier and put less stress on the environment, she’s inadvertently put more stress on every meal. It starts when you see the photo of a burger on a restaurant menu, dripping fat and wearing a thin layer of bacon. Then you hear: “Mmm, go for the portobello burger, I’ll get the veggie burger. They’re both carbon neutral.” Maybe. But you know very well that every meal choice you make is loaded.
Hey Republicans! Your no-good feminist, vegetarian, enviro-cunt of a girlfriend will take away your hamburger to save the environment! Next it’ll be your car! Stand up for yourself before it’s too late! Palin in 2012! Woo hoo!
No.6 – “Normal” pregnancy weight gain
It’s natural that women gain weight during pregnancy. But indulge in a violent nine-month food orgy that leaves a trail of candy wrappers and empty tubs of ice cream, and you’re left with sore hands from being repeatedly slapped when you reach for a cookie.
Hi, I’m Charlie Anderson and my knowledge of women consists entirely of what brutish male sitcom characters of the 1980s told me, commercials for low-fat yogurt, and what I suspect shows on Lifetime are about.
You hear, “I have to eat for two,” and so reluctantly give up your fries to tame the unruly beast that’s swallowing your girl bite by bite. But the truth is less dramatic. Women need to consume only 100 to 300 extra calories a day to keep the baby happy. Ready to bring her fantastic voyage to an end? Stand back and wear padding.
It’s about this point in the Love Lounge that I usually like to mention that it’s the year 2010. It’s the year 2010.
No.5 – Mandatory diamonds
Not quartz, zirconium, igneous, or kryptonite. You can’t avoid it. One — and only one — rock will do for women on planet earth: diamonds. The conspiracy runs deeper than Inception’s dream layers. Starting from Marilyn Monroe’s famous ode to ice to celebrity necklace and earring endorsements from the red carpet to one of the surest signs that we’ve been compromised, the title of a James Bond film, diamonds are circled, underlined and bolded at the top of our shopping list all times of year. Can’t afford it? Your jeweler will put you on a payment plan. Think you can get between best friends?
Let’s just summarize what we’ve learned here so far. Women are:
- Demanding of your hairlessness
- Possessing a superior sense of fashion only in their own minds
- Secretly fat
- Unquenchingly thirsting for diamonds
I’d just like to reiterate that AskMen.com espouses to have 10 million readers a month.
No.4 – Wedding proposal deadline
At exactly 7:32 a.m. when you woke up next to your future girlfriend and smiled at her, knowing it was more than a fling, the clock started. One-and-a-half years later the questions came from her friends: “So, have you thought about a ring?” “Do you know where you want to get married?”
Since all women are shrill harpies, why didn’t you just tune them out, Charlie? Who gives a shit her femi-Nazi friends think? You’re a man, after all. And you’re above getting manipulated, remember?
Incredibly, you sidestepped the questions with a welterweight’s quickness, and kept your head down for another six months. In year two, friend’s [sic] and family tightened around you with an anaconda’s grip to give you daily reminders. Where did the time go? It’s suddenly 7:32 a.m. on your three-year anniversary. Cue the THX music before a movie.
I think we’re supposed to believe this little THX dig is prelude to screaming from your woman, but who fucking cares at this point? Get married when you’re both ready or don’t get married at all. Everyone else can eat a bag of hell, and that’s all you need to know about marriage proposals.
No.3 – Sex as a reward
Sex used to be fun and unpredictable.
Or in the words of your ex-girlfriend, “brief” and “bizarrely uncomfortable.”
Now your girl dangles it in front of you like a rabbit at a dog track. Tragically, she’s unearthed your most basic secret: You like to have sex. Rather than enjoy it steamy and unbridled, she’s realized its value, and like a passionate capitalist, has turned sex into a commodity to be used sparingly in exchange for services rendered like, “Take me to the Eat Pray Love premiere. Like a heroin addict anticipating his next fix, and with Scooby-Doo’s enthusiasm, we reply “Rokay!”
To our checklist above, we can add “manipulative” (again) and “whorish.” If we can somehow rehydrate Dr. Alfred Kinsey’s ashes, bring him back to life, sit him in front of a computer, and have Charlie Anderson buttfuck him while burning a copy of “The Kinsey Reports” in front of his surviving children, that would be somehow better than forcing the re-animated Dr. Kinsey to read this stupid paragraph.
No.2 – Only men have egos
You cooked a perfect burger. It’s just pink enough to taste good and not cause vomiting later. You celebrate: “Who’s the chef? Look at that meat, baby. I’m amazing.” Your buddies agree and pat you on the back, but your girlfriend rolls her eyes giving you the look you see before hearing “get over it.”
Probably because you successfully cooked a hamburger – the culinary equivalent of a getting a “B” in P.E. class – not because you discovered a cure for glaucoma, you fragile, over-inflated dickwart.
While women are happy to cast us as troglodytes retarded by our egos, they’re fierce at poker, slag off other women for horrible fashion and comfortably freeze you out of bed if you don’t praise their hand knitting. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who else has the biggest ego of them all?
Yes, life is hard, and it’s made easier by compliments. If you need the affirmation bestowed upon you by your woman that your short bus friends do, find a new woman. Of course, that should prove difficult since this article has indisputably proved that all women are unreasonable shrews. Or perhaps stop getting manipulated and if she rolls her eyes at you, just throw a crotch chop at her. If this scenario is as middle school as it seems, just wiggle your dick at her and feel better.
No.1 – Guys’ night out
Going out with your buddies was tradition when you were a bachelor; now it’s fraught with deception. Oh, you still get to enjoy it, but what you see as a natural pastime she positions as a treat for good behavior.
That’s two times he’s likened men to dogs. Y’know, it’s much easier to get treated like shit if you’re doing all the legwork for your supposed enemy. You’ve been had, gentleman.
Unwittingly, you agree to whatever terms she says, because it’s guys’ night out! It has to happen — it’s what you do. Little do you know, you’ve signed up to a week’s worth of dish duty, laundry, four cooking nights, two Sarah Jessica Parker romantic comedies, and babysitting. Exhausted by the end of the week, you only look forward to guys’ night. Hmm… Remember how the Matrix works?
And your name is Mr. Anderson. Very clever, shithead. And since we’re completely ignoring reality, we’ll just ignore that when you were younger you had less obligations, more time to yourself, less work, and more nights eating Beef Ravioli out of a can by yourself thus necessitating a “Guys’ Night” wholly redundant. And of course, that’s ignoring the compensatory “Girls’ Night,” but whatever. The Matrix is real, man!
Welcome back to the Love Lounge, friends. Come across any awful tripe poisoning the well-meaning masses trying to get laid in this fair country of ours? Know of something that needs evisceration? You know where to send it…
05 Oct 2010 E Dagger