QUESTION # 394: A HYPOTHETICAL QUESTION

Dear Useless Men,

Just supposing there was a guy (not me) who constantly fought and argued with his wife about watching those stupid shows like Dancing with the stars and How do I look ? But over time, this make believe guy actually started to kind of sorta like these shows, but he kept acting like he was disgusted with watching them, and one day his wife said, "You're right these shows are stupid and I have been selfish. We will no longer watch them!", but he really kind of wanted to still watch them?

1. Do I. . . . I mean this make-beleave person, still get the credit for winning the fight, although it's not really what he wanted?

2. What percentage of my. . . . .I mean his, manly man-ness would be deducted for admitting that he really actually liked these girlie-girl shows? It would not be considered 'coming out of the closet' would it?

Jon

Dear Jon,

I love make-believe people. I once had a friend named Gus. It was surprising how often I could tell people about my friend Gus and his “problems” and people would be happy to give Gus advice. In a small way, perhaps being the carrier of that advice from these helpful experts back to my make believe friend Gus is really the genesis of this blog.

Now, as for your friend, let’s call him Gus as well. There could be far worse things for Gus to watch then Dancing with the Stars. Granted, this is really the last ditch effort for C-type celebs like Joey “Mr. Glad” Lawrence and Mario Lopez, but have you seen the babes they are dancing with? That’s some good television.

It reminds me of the eighth grade when the class had to choose between taking a course in technical studies or in home economics. I was too proud to choose Home Ec, but too frightened of the machines to choose Tech. I put either or, and let my fate be decided by the principal.

She put me in Home Ec. I was the only boy in a class with 23 young girls. I would get on the bus after class, and the guys that finished making their third ashtray would tease me, and call me “gay”. Then it struck me. The ashtray, I mean. But that knock to the head cleared my senses, and I realized, I’m not the one that is “gay”. I have all but two brutes in the entire graduating class doting on me for an entire afternoon. There is no competition.

When Nicole, the little hottie, spilled some juice on her tight white jeans, guess who was there dabbing the club soda on her thigh? That’s right, folks. Me. It was everything in my nervous power not to take it any further either.

I’d have a nice snack, get the inside track on all the girls, even getting close with a few, while my buddies would be sweating it out in a woodshop with 25 other guys and two girls that could beat you senseless with a 2X4 before they ripped your gonads out through your neck.

And in the end, I’ve never needed to use a lathe again. But I have been able to replace a button on my shirt in a pinch, while leaning the best way to slice an onion without crying. Who’s gay now, Jimmy? Not Gus and Me.

There is no loss of manliness when you use girlie things to enjoy the ladies more. That’s not useless. That’s genius.

As to whether you get credited a win in the fight, I think we should turn that over to our television audience and they can submit their votes in comments in true TV fashion.

Sincerely,
One Useless Man


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