Tag Archives: feminine mystique

Blonde

Blonde: (adj) fair or pale yellow hair.

Dictionary B

I’ve always insisted on being a blonde.

Blonde is a word that is usually associated with feminine mystique. For instance, “gentlemen prefer blondes.”

It does not say, “gentlemen prefer being blonde.”

I once was very proud of my hair. I grew it long, nearly to my shoulders, washed it and spent a lot of time in the sun, hoping to bleach it out to that glorious, Beach Boys, bushy hairdo. I especially enjoyed the tug of the hairbrush as it labored through the luscious locks.

It wasn’t that I believed that women liked blonde-haired men. After all, the classic line is “tall, dark and handsome.” I was kind of medium, chubby and blonde.

I liked it, though. I liked the way it looked, I liked the way it felt, and I sensed it translated me from being an Ohio-born, rural ruffian to a transplanted California cavalier.

I nurtured it, I flipped it, I let it blow in the wind. It became my friend. Although blonde hair does not offer much conversation, my hope was that it would solicit some.

I kept it blonde, I insisted on blonde.

Until one day I woke up and it changed colors.

Scalp.

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Beau

Beau: (n) a boyfriend or male admirer.Dictionary B

Although I don’t want to be considered a curmudgeon, there are certain words that rile me up.

One of them is “boyfriend.” And honestly, I am not any more enamored with the use of “beau.”

It is my discovery that to be a friend to a female, the last thing I need to be is a boy. Equally disappointing to the average woman is when we don the persona of man.

The reason we contend there’s a battle of the sexes is because we posture in our gender and insist on our uniqueness, making us a goddam threat. We don’t tolerate such an exclusive approach in other situations:

We don’t allow butchers to cut up our pets because they’re off work and miss the job.

We don’t permit teenagers to insist they don’t need to be part of the social structure because they’re too busy dealing with the angst of their acne.

Yet for some reason, it appears to be acceptable to hide behind the “guise of the guys” and the “mystique of the feminine.”

It’s hilarious–especially when you get around people in their senior years, who find themselves ingloriously dating, introducing their male partner as a “boyfriend.”

I have just found that the best way to get along with a woman is to make it clear that you do not consider her an acquisition, but rather, a confidante.

Adding the word “boy” inserts way to much testosterone.

And if you insist on being called “beau” in order to avoid boyfriend… then you add too much grits and gravy.

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Abstain

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abstain: (v.) to restrain oneself from doing or enjoying something 2. to formally decline to vote either for or against a proposal or motion

l have discovered the quickest way to make sure that I eat a chocolate candy bar in the next twenty-four hours. All I have to do is promise to abstain from them.

This works with almost anything else, too. It’s like the decision to abstain is really similar to purchasing a billboard in your brain to advertise the product. Once I’m convinced that I’m deprived, it’s is an easy journey to convince myself that the deprivation is … terminal.

This is why I have to giggle when people talk to me about encouraging teenagers to take the “vow of abstinence.”

When I was sixteen years old, I only thought about two things: food and sex. And most of the time, in some bizarre way, I mingled them.

So to turn to an adolescent and suggest that he or she should make a vow of celibacy when they are sitting on a raging reservoir of tempestuous hormones is to create the tiny cracks in the dam of their resistance, which will certainly lead to a flood of error.

I raised a whole bunch of boys. Here’s what I found out about their appetites: unless they were totally exhausted, ready to fall into bed, to enter a coma of sleep, they were constantly pursuing, through their curiosity, the entire panorama of feminine mystique. To eliminate the power of exhaustion from a teenager is to grant them license to explore their lusts to an inevitable result. (After all, the Catholic church has learned that asking its clergy to abstain from the “pleasures of the flesh” does NOT mean that they will not find divergent methods.)

Abstain is a funny word–and by funny, I mean strange, unusual and not particularly helpful.

I taught my sons to be busy, active and to burn off a lot of their physical energy instead of sitting around studying all the time, having temptation lure them into porn sites on the Internet. I also instructed them in the intelligence of masturbation as an alternative to becoming a daddy with pimples. It was quite successful.

And when I sensed that they were still bursting and bubbling with sexuality, I sat down with them to talk and giggle about it until they were saturated and once again ready for a good night’s sleep.

Abstain. It’s a word old people impose on the younger of our flock–once the elder rams have lost interest in what now preoccupies the young bucks.

Like I said … it’s a funny word.