What do you think, ladies? Did I scare him off? How about the other guys who’ve been reading the blog lately? Hold on, just to be sure… TAMPONS, MAXI PADS… With Wings! Urinary Tract Infections, YEAST INFECTIONS which require Monistat 7!!! (Not even Monistat 1 or 3 but 7)….

That ought to do it, don’t you think? With the subject matter and the description of this blog I’ve made it pretty clear that this blog is for chicks only. Now, I know there are a handful of guys who are evolved enough to go to the store for their women and purchase tampons, but for the rest of you, in the words of the snobby Rodeo Drive Sales Lady from Pretty Woman, “There is nothing for you here. Please leave.”

Now before you go off on me, it’s not because I don’t like guys… I’m wild and crazy about guys. But guys are problem solvers. They see a woman in distress and they want to help, to fix the problem, to be the knight in shining armor… which reminds me of a funny story so let me tangentalize for a moment–

When FWB and I first started hanging out, we discovered we were into very different kinds of music. HE likes The Grateful Dead, some band called Fish possibly Phish? Someone called Mo or Moe… ME on the other hand, likes 80s hairbands and country music. Sooooo…..

After being subjected to jazzy influenced jam bands for a somewhat lengthy car ride, FWB decided to be accommodating and allow me to plug my iPhone in and play him my country music. I soon discovered that iPhones don’t work like iPods. With my iPod, I play an album and the whole album plays. On my iPhone, I put on a song from an album and the next song goes in alphabetical order (at this point, if there are some straggler guys still reading who have the urge to comment on how to program my iPhone to not shuffle– resist the urge and go follow some tech geeks blog. He’ll appreciate it) Well, the song went from Jason Aldean  to Alison Armstrong. Now for all of you ladies who know who Alison is, you can imagine my frenzied hysteria that went on for the next 60 seconds which felt like an hour…

You see Alison Armstong is a woman who teaches women to Celebrate Men, by understanding how to communicate with them. She gives us TOP SECRET information and I made a vow NEVER to share it with a man, so while she’s talking about frog farming or something odd that caught FWB’s ear, to the point that he said “What IS this?” as I was trying to put in my iPhone passcode… ever notice when you’re in a rush to put in your passcode you always hit the wrong numbers? So Im yelling, “NOTHING. THIS IS NOTHING.” To which he obviously asked me why I was suddenly yelling… uh because I can’t tell you that you’re not allowed to hear this because it will only make you want to listen more so I’m yelling so you can’t hear what she’s saying. Of course at this point I can’t get my iPhone to open and I try his radio knobs to turn off the volume or the radio or ANYTHING to make it stop… but to no avail so I’m still yelling gibberish until I finally yank the iPhone out off of the plug he’s got it attached to which creates a very loud popping noise in the speakers, which both scared us and almost deafened us. At which point we came to a stop at a red light and he said, “I could have helped you with that.” To which I responded, “I know, you always help me. Thank you.” Which won me a big smile… Alison would have been proud. NOW back to the matter at hand…

Which is… Mark and his problem solving. If you didn’t see it yesterday, I blogged about balancing my hormones with a product called “Buried Treasure”, accidentally putting Vagisil on hamstring rash, and suffering from PMS. Yet, when a “guy” read the entry he saw a problem that need fixing, and please don’t get me wrong, Mark, I appreciate your desire to be a problem solver and to help me, AND, you totally missed the point of the blog. You see you thought I needed my problem solved with Comcast, since I went off on a PMS rage on sweet, harmless, Chad, so you offered up this comment: “Sorry to learn about your Comcast problems. I work for the company and with your permission, I will be happy to reach out to my contacts to make sure that this is resolved. Contact me if you’re interested in my help.”

You are doing a very good job of being a very good and helpful man, Mark, AND, every girl reading yesterday’s entry knows, because they are girls, so it’s not your fault, Mark, you were just doing what comes naturally to guys… they all knew that all I wanted to do was rant.. that’s it. I don’t want my Comcast problem solved, unless, Mark, you can get me a check for $9,997 which is what my consulting rate is for a VIP day, which is the exact length of my time which was wasted waiting for you Company to solve my problem correctly the first time. You see, Mark, If I promise someone a VIP day, and they pay $9,997 for it, and I don’t show up… they get their money back and I get my reputation tarnished.. so I don’t blow off my clients. I treat them like VIPS, hence the name. So until Comcast plans to treat ME like a VIP, I have no interest in continuing with their service, because luckily I do have other choices.

So what have we learned today?

1. Girls like to rant about stuff that’s on their minds and they don’t necessarily want guys to fix it, they just want them to listen, maybe tickle their backs, and then say, “honey, good for you giving that Comcast guy a piece of your mind.”

2. While Romantic Comedy Girl LOVES men, this blog really isn’t the place for them. Please don’t be offended. After all, I’m the first to admit, that women on the sidelines broadcasting sports, is the most annoying thing on the planet.. they don’t belong there, and YOU don’t belong here.

I think it’s fair to say, that the only exception to this “no boys allowed” policy is any guy who doesn’t need to be “dragged” to see a romantic comedy by a girl, is welcome to read, because that’s who this is for… rom com and chick lit peeps.

DJ Superpilot, please cue Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, I Will Survive, All the Single Ladies and every other Chick anthem you can think of..

Peace out!

©2011