Ten Ways To Make Your Man Smile

By Timothy N. Stelly, Sr.
Nov. 12, 2005

NOTE: Ladies, this is a tongue-in-cheek article. It is NOT to be taken seriously. Hence, do not send suicide bombers to my house.

Recently Pat Hurley wrote a wonderful piece on ten ways how to make a woman. Argile Stox added to that with an equally informative piece. Okay ladies, now its time for you to end your MISTER-ogyny and make us menfolk smile. I know what you’re thinking—two of the things are pretty obvious. Well, since that is common knowledge, I felt no need to add them to my list.

Ladies, you must take a few things into consideration. Most men are loud-talking, oversexed dullards whose wants are not difficult to figure out. Freud asked, “What do women want?” We’ve been unable to find the answer to that one—in fact, few women have. But we men aren’t that complicated. We’re creatures of habit (and flatulence), so remember that when you have a man you are really raising a pet.

1. Do not touch the remote. If a man’s home is his castle, then the remote is his scepter.

2. Accept his thickheadedness as an irreversible glitch of nature. If he’s lost and refuses to look at a map or pull over and ask for directions, just lean against the car door and take a nap. With any luck, by the time you awaken he’ll only be fifty miles off course.

3. If he thinks “Beavis and Butthead” is high brow television, indulge him. The same goes for “The Family Guy,” “Greg the Bunny,” “My Name Is Earl,” “WWF Smackdown,” etc. And guess what? A few of us even like the news.

4. And while we’re on the subject of TV, please do not interrupt televised sports programming with a request to take out the trash or perform some other menial task—pretty please?

5. If a man’s home is truly his castle, do not knock on the bathroom door while he is sitting on his “throne.” And do not enter—unless you are bringing him toilet paper, or you work as a professional court jester and want to perform for him.

6. If by chance the two of you engage in a bitter argument before bed time, under no circumstances should you mention the name of LORENA BOBBITT. (In six states that’s grounds for divorce).

7. Since the times when men were hunters and gatherers, they developed a survival trait known as “filtering.” This kicks in because most men are unable to decipher more than twenty minutes of conversation in one sitting (Unless it is about sex, music, sports, fighting or their high school days). When a female “goes on a roll” perfectly timed head bobs, a grunted “uh-huh” and/or a perfectly cued, “You don’t say” replace actual listening. But you all never know it because you’re in speech mode and you’re often satisfied with the illusion of being heard. Sorry, that’s just part of our sexual synchronicity, another glitch of nature. (Either that or strong evidence of intelligent design, as God knew you all would like to go on about life’s minutia and we would ignore it and enjoy the view of T and A).

8. If we buy you an unusable birthday gift, don’t tear us a new one. Instead, make things simple and just ask for money, buy your own gift and tell your man it’s from him. It’s not that we’re lazy and thoughtless; just ignorant. One year for Christmas I bought my girlfriend a broom. She threw her hands on her hips and began swirling her head as she was yelling at me. She ended her diatribe with “So I guess you’re trying to tell me all I’m good for is cleaning up behind you?” And I replied, “No, I bought it so you’d have something to travel by.” Needless to say, by the following morning I had relocated to my own apartment.

9. Do not explain with great detail “female problems” unless they require a hospital visit. Not all men are gynecologists, we only envy them.

And finally, try and laugh at lists like this. Like I said, we’re brutes. (What did you expect, poetry?)

In closing, I once read that most American women aspire to be like the Cosby Show’s Claire Huxtable. Note that men do not aspire to be like her husband, Heathcliff. We’re closer to Al Bundy, so we not only need your love, but your compassion. Treat us like the lovable dolts that we are and you will have a mate that is loyal as a puppy and about half as bright.


About the author: Timothy Stelly is a 46-year old California native with a wide variety of interests-from fishing to politics, which have a lot in common: Both require you to deal with worms and most of your time is spent idling.

He is a former Democrat, believing that Party represents outdated ideas. He is officially registered as an Independent, choosing to keep his options open. Timothy is also the author of more than 80 screenplays and novels, two of which have been "published": "Tempest In The Stone" and "The Malice Of Cain", both available through PublishAmerica. He defines his writing style as "Hip-hop fiction; a cross between Richard Pryor and Richard Wright."

His UK columns is written in a hard-edged style, but he is not yet a curmudgeon or a conservative. (Is that redundant?) After all, one of his favorite movies is "The Adventures of Milo and Otis."


Email: stellbread@yahoo.com

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