Run Silent, Run Deep

If you recorded a video of me in the heat of a disagreement with a woman, you'd likely see me more frustrated than angry. For every ten words she gets out - like pinpoint jabs to the solar plexus - I'd stammer out two or three. And she'd brush them off. That's the frustrating part, the fact that we seem to work in different weight classes, or even different fighting disciplines. She's a lithe and wiry Thai boxer, I'm Hulk Hogan.

That's the problem. Woman can chop men up with a few well-placed zingers before we've even realized were in a fight. When her blood's up, I'm still lacing my boots while she's already counting a points victory - which is the other half of the disappointment, because by the time I have my mouthguard in and gloves on, she's already having a warm-down massage. Game over. I lose.

So what's the deal here? The mismatch of verbal skill between us is vast to the point of unfairness. Guys generally can't connect response to mouth anywhere near as fast as the lady, leaving us pondering a point from three minutes ago that's already been lost. Not only is it a transmission problem, it's a speed of connection problem.

You'll note here that I'm probably an extreme case. Not only do I intensely dislike disagreements that are in the least bit emotional, I actively avoid them. On the other hand, I love verbal jousting without the heat ie: when nothing's at stake. When we're cool and operating under the same rules, it's fun. As a result, I don't have much practice with the kind of hot conflict that's inevitable in any kind of long-term relationship. In the end I imagine that's deeply unsatisfying to women.

The next time that you think a man's a strong, silent type, consider this: he's silent only because the words are slow to be spoken, not because they're not there.



Bottoms Up, Fighters.

Night Guard

Photo credit.


Is there a limit to the number of days in a week one is allowed to wake up to a small drool-puddle on the pillow?

If there is, I have the unhappy thought that I reached it this morning.



Bottoms Up, Mr Sandman!

Pillowfight

Pillowfighting tactics rarely receive an airing in polite conversation. Whenever the subject comes up, people tend to become quiet, shuffle their feet, look over your shoulder and eventually walk off.

That's my experience.

Good pillowfighters are rare: their skills rank alongside those of competent fencers (the rapier kind, not the keeping cows in a pasture kind) or synchronized swimmers. And the underground nature of pillowfighting is such that you never know if someone's a champion until you fight them and find out. In fact, the person next to you right now might be a savant pillowfighter .

Novice though I am, rules play a part. Here are the ones I know of:

1. Pillowfighting is a dry land sport. If you find yourself in the bath, or in the rain, you're doing it wrong.

2. Only one man at a time can pillowfight. That implies that at a minimum, a 'feather' (the pillowfighting term for a 'bout') consists of one man and one woman.

3. Quality feathers always have more than one woman, and the man should always be me.

4. Women fighters will always be in either lingerie or jimjams. Men can be in a three-piece suit for all I care.

5. At least one pillow should be present. Actually using it is optional.

6. During the fight, if a piece of your outfit is removed or otherwise comes off, you can't put it back on. No returns.

7. Although robust participation is good, females should all scream like whiny little bitches at some point.

8. Sportswomanship requires that at the end of the feather - or at any point during the fight - all parties hug. Light petting is encouraged. After that, you can do what you like. We're all adults here.








Bottoms Up, It's Bedtime!