101 uses for a man

Real men only use real adhesives, the kind which come in two parts.

Super glue is for poofters and amateurs. Funny though it is quite unforgiving to careless misuse and clumsy handling. A good friend often used to tell of a childhood pal he was riding in a car with who was handed a tube with a stuck cap, and the first tool he considered worthy to grasp it and twist with was his teeth, changing the night's destination from roller skating to the emergency room.

Anyway not to derail a good topic, I don't think the times  article was as mean spirited as you might have perceived it.  It seems to be rather self effacing from the woman's point of view, if maybe a bit too environmentally friendly- who "catches" spiders? I squash them like a.... like a.... well, like a bug when indoors, outdoors is his domain so I leave them be as he will consume many more insects than I can squash myself.

I've never been so emasculated as a chance encounter with a burly lesbian last year. I live near the ocean, naturally we see a lot of seagulls.  One morning out in the street in front of my house I look out and apparantly a gull had been hit by a car, its wing was crushed and the weight of it plus the injury had the bird lying on its back making a lot of noise as it writhed in pain. About a dozen cars just drove by, and though several cars may have meant well in trying to finish it off by swerving at it, they missed and the whole scene was too cruel for me to just walk away and forget. It took me a minute to gather up a shovel and a large bag to dispose of it, when I returned I had to compose my thoughts on how to best strike a blow to kill it-do you cut off the head? crush it? look away when you strike it lest you be squirted with blood? what if that makes you miss? As I pondered the gruesome task, a Jeep whips up and out pops a stout young man wearing a Sea World uniform, (they are a mile from my house) as he approached  I saw it was no man but a girl proud of her lifetime collected five o'clock peach fuzz. Without a word she grabbed the shovel from me, and planted the shovel in a way which ended the gull's misery without a whimper, and not much more blood or mess. I opened the bag and she grabbed the gull in a tender, almost motherly fashion which bespoke of extreme reverence for the animal kingdom, and deposited it in the bag and asked if I'd be sure and dispose of it in a way which was sanitary and protected from scavenging animals.

"Yes, sir"  I replied, immediately though I caught my gender faux pas. I could tell from her expression she did not mind a bit, and as she drove off I thought "she's more man than I will ever be." (true story!)