Showing posts with label wtf?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wtf?. Show all posts

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Moving at the Speed of Dumb

You've probably seen or heard this by now, but...





As irreversibly feeble-minded as this poor girl is, there's something bigger that should be highlighted here.

As a man who's had his fair share of arguments with women, there's one undeniable fact: They are illogical beings. For example, I once forced an introduction at a bar between a cute bartender and my boy; when she heard the story a few days later, my girlfriend at the time got mad at me, because she considered that act to be me flirting and/or cheating.

True story.

Now, to be fair, that's a bit of an extreme case. But even in little, everyday disagreements, men are constantly being flustered and frustrated by women as they use irrational jumps in logic to support their side of the dispute. Sadly, it's an inescapable fact of nature; it seems nearly all women suffer from this flaw [It seems wrong to completely generalize all women as having an inability to process logic; surely, there must be some who are rational. But, in my 33 years, I don't think I have found one yet, so...]. Even my mother, who I love more than anything else in the world, is often victim to ridiculous reasoning. It doesn't make me love her any less, though it does shorten my visits on occasion.

This isn't to say that a woman is always wrong when arguing with a man—I mean, she IS, but I'm not saying that (jokes, ladies...ease back). But when a woman is wrong, typically she's not going to stop and accept a logical view of the debate. The beauty of this video is that it so perfectly shines a spotlight on this tendency. No reasonable woman can watch this lass Chelsea stumble around the math problem using various mind-boggling pieces of "data" ("I run a mile in about 9 minutes"...huh?) and then vehemently defend her answer while simultaneously discrediting her husband ("I make sense—you do not make sense!"), and not catch a glimpse into the pain any man has ever felt when dealing with this type battle between the logical and the illogical.

Friday, 1 July 2011

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

Rock Me Like a Furricane


It's that time of year again. Anthrocon, the world’s largest furry convention, begins this Thursday in Pittsburgh. And, as my boy TK has been reporting via Twitter, attendees have already started rolling into town (and he’s been meeting new friends; I'm trying to get him to go out like Johnny Drama).

I'm not a furry, but the whole culture fascinates me. Two years ago my friends and I, in a moment of drunken spontaneity, spent part of a night hunting furries. We posed for pictures and joked with them. My ex-girlfriend danced with them. Her friend rubbed one’s belly while he laid on his back, kicking his legs in the air. It was so much fun that last year Dupa and I each took a half day off of work to sit at the bar across the street from their hotel and hold a safari of sorts. Dozens of our friends eventually joined us, and countless pictures with deer, wolves, birds, cats, etc. now litter everyone’s personal Facebook pages.

This Friday I’ll be at it again—though Dupa and I have each called off for the entire day this time. It has officially become a tradition; cold drinks, sweaty-hot costumes, and good times. Bring your camera. Leave behind your threshold of “wtf”.
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