10
Mar
thisisnthelpful asked: I dunno though - is that it? Are guys so intimidated by girls they need us to be in a separate room behind a computer screen? This isn't rhetorical - I'm legitimately curious. I've never thought of it that way, it's always seemed more guys assumed (for some reason) girls weren't as funny and girls just sort of went along with it. I've gotten an obscene amount of "So funny!...for a girl..." comments on my article. They make me want to puke, ESPECIALLY if I know the person is joking. Because that's not a joke, it's not funny (maybe I'm a little sensitive). It seems like kind of a cop out to say "Ladies, they're not hiring because they're intimidated by you." Unless it's true, in which case guys really need to sack up. Also don't feel obligated to answer this publicly. Or feel free to answer it publicly. HI PUBLIC!!
Niece,
I’m pleased to heave this ottoman out in the open and lay my back down on it and let my mouth hang all the way open!
The author of the Witstream Tumblr post will probably delight in addressing what-she-meant questions so I won’t poach on her province, but I will say that, in the same way that it was a blot on a whole family’s escutcheon for a relative to earn his daily bread on the stage at one time, I think the cultural residue, even in this age of everyone-wanting-to-be-famous-all-the-time-and-that’s-okay, is that attracting attention to yourself (and being funny falls within this purview) is somehow less-than-honorable at some sort of foundational level and that if horny-handed men want to do that, well, they’re beasts anyway, but the fairer sex really shouldn’t soil their gingham dresses. IT COULD NEGATIVELY AFFECT THE DOWRY! I blame the Puritans. If you think about it, they were nothing but filthy Protestants.
Before anyone flips out on me for saying that, it’s only a theory of how people are thinking in their reptilian brainstems, nothing more. I’m looking at you, Protestants.
I will say this, though: if big city fire departments and the U.S. Marines have been successfully integrated, then everyone else can shut their MRE holes and figure out a way to make it work. You want to inhale a bag of potato chips and burp the first twenty names in the Chattanooga telephone book (what the hell’s a telephone book?) without a woman seeing it and grimacing and wrecking your sodium buzz, then get a job as the wet-towel-picker-upper in a men’s locker room, Django. (I don’t know why I chose to denigrate the name of one of the greatest gypsy guitarists in modern history, whom I personally like.)
My chief concern in all this is that now far more men than before, driven wild by tales of unlimited shame-free farting & employer-subsidized potato chips, will rush to compete for these comedy staff jobs, making things harder for women than they already are. And that’s not right. Farting has ruined more things in world history than Napoleon Bonaparte and his trusty Irish Setter, Etienne, put together. So, in future, guys, when the ancient urge rises up, just stand, bow to the ladies, slip quietly away to the empty employee break room and fart one of your best and brightest - I’m thinking of the ones named either “Fugue,” or “Requiem” - into the lunch fridge, okay? Then slam the door and trot guiltily back to your cube.
Ladies? I recommend that you put your lunches into Ziplocs inside Tupperware containers, inside decoy rumpled brown paper bags before putting them in the break room fridge. (And it may be bacteriologically safer to eat lunch on the toilet.)
And just be excellent to each other, you know?
Your affectionate uncle,
Dynamite
