Resistance is Phutile

Women: crap at the game.

Money, as they say, is the root of all evil.

The great Bob Monkhouse used to dedicate a little time of his live show to linking words or names of people/places that were suggested at random by the audience. Bob would start off with some obscure actor from the 1940s, and within a minute he arrived at the name of one of the characters from The Simpsons, via a route involving polar bears and cans of coke.

As a schoolkid I played this game myself, although some of the links were decidedly dodgy. If it was getting too muddled, you could always point out that Dean Martin and Ross Kemp both breathed oxygen, and there was your link.

But with evil, you never have to look too far down the chain to find money, so the cop out option is never necessary.

For example, when a woman says you aren't comfortable with your sexuality unless you will wear something pink, the financial foundations are glaringly obvious.

Some time in the last decade some bright advertising spark dreamed up the concept of New Man. Yes, there are some good things to come of New Man, helping out with the nappies, feeding the kids, etc. But forget all that. The real benefit was that young men now found it acceptable, required of them even, to buy make-up products for their skin, and wear pink shirts.

Wearing pink became so cool that it almost became a measure of masculinity. Some geezer in the pub in a pink rugby shirt, for instance, might have once been called a ponce, but now he was a model of machismo. Why didn't you have a pink shirt? Not man enough? Can't say that about him, he's comfortable with his sexuality.

But what does that mean?

Does it mean you might be secretly worried that you're gay?

Seems a bit presumptuous; you're gay, because you're not wearing pink.

And the make-up. I was with my other half up the west end not long ago, in a Boots store, I think it was. My girlfriend wanted to buy some cosmetics. Fair enough. But the lady behind the counter didn't think it was fair enough.

"Aren't you going to buy anything, sir?"

"Uh, no thanks."

Look of disbelief.

"But what about this moisteurizer?"

"No, I'm alright thanks."

To the missus:

"You really need to get him to buy something."

The cream, which I have lived thus far without and never noticed any problem, cost about fifteen quid.

I think I'll stick to a bar of soap, thanks. About £14.50 cheaper.

Why is it that women can't seem to find the link between the evil and the money though? I don't particularly like pink shirts, in the same way I don't like orange trousers. And I really can't see the point in slapping all these expensive 'face washes' on, the world never seemed to need them before FHM.

It's like women are getting lost on the way to the money, and taking the cop out option: you're stuck in the closet. Notice how similar that conclusion is to one any schoolboy might arrive at when discussing pretty much anything with one of his peers.

So although this might be a bit Old Man, I'm gonna have to say it: women just can't play the game.

posted by Phu @ 1:37 pm