Men are from Mars, Women are the Spawn of Satan

I will never understand women!

I just don’t get them! Maybe I need to read that book “Men are from Mars, Women are the Spawn of Satan!” or somewhere like that…

Anyway, my point is that these species of homo-estrogenimous-sapiens clearly posses different thinking patterns. This would be perfectly fine, except for the fact that half my friends and all the people I’ve ever dated, happen to be women.

Take my friend Michelle for example (I use the name Michelle as not to offend or embarrass the real person, whose name also happens to be Michelle…. what a coincidence!) See Michelle and I worked together on a big project. It was something that required us to talk or meet each other multiple times a day, from dusk ‘til dawn, for months.

I’m a pretty easy going guy and always get my job done. Michelle worked really hard as well, but with a twist – she would get stressed and I couldn’t understand why. I thought I could help… but I was wrong… I was WAAAAY wrong!

See, when normal men run into problems, we only do one thing – we try to fix it.

It’s quite a simple and logical reaction right? Something breaks, we fix it. Something falls, we pick it up. Something itches, we scratch it… and so on.

Now what I’ve observed from our testosterone lacking counterparts is that no matter how small or how big the problem is, fixing it is not an option, and neither is scratching it.

Michelle would come back to me everyday for a week with the same problem. Every time, I would give her solutions, ranging from simple, complicated, ingenious or even plain out idiotic, on how to fix it; but nothing mattered. It seemed as if she didn’t want her problems solved; I even offered to fix the issues myself; but still, nothing! In fact, as I congratulated myself for having as-close-as-it-gets-to-God (or MacGyver) ability to solve problems, she apparently just got more pissed.

New problems would arise and they just piled up. We went through the same cycle as her stress levels and anger towards me skyrocketed.

Of course, I was oblivious to this, as men usually are, since women don’t tell us that there’s anything wrong.

But being the superior intellectual that I am, I eventually caught on… about 3 and a half weeks later.

Vince: “Hey is there anything wrong?”

Michelle: “NO!!!!”

Vince: “Oh, ok, cool. For a second there I thought…”


Vince: “…”

Michelle: “Argghhh!!!”

Vince: “Well tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it…”


Vince: “…”

Weeks went on with me trying to fix this “unknown problem that I’m supposed to know about,” while Michelle gave me the silent treatment for not fixing a problem that I didn’t know about but should know about… or something like that.

Eventually, as we tried to talk things over for the hundredth time, I completely ran out of ideas on how to fix things and was truly speechless. I was lost; I didn’t know what to say or what to do anymore. I felt like a failure! I lost my sense of manhood! My innate ability as the Alpha Male to solve problems was broken! I had lost my sense of purpose in life! So as I cried quietly on the inside and starred blankly as Michelle blabber away for three hours, she then says to me:

Michelle: “Thanks for that wonderful talk. I really feel a lot better now.”

Vince: “…”

And that fixed EVERYTHING! Even though we didn’t really “fix” anything… and we worked happily ever after…

I will never understand women!

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