All men are NOT dumbasses


Is anyone else annoyed at how men are commonly being portrayed in television commercials these days? I’m not sure when this trend began, but it seems to have been going on for a while and shows no signs of stopping. In fact it seems to be getting worse. Far too often, men are stereotypically being portrayed as… well, as stupid asses.

A dim-witted husband earns a scowl from his wife when he returns from a store with the wrong grocery item. A young man in a cafe foolishly says he’d save his beer from falling over a cliff instead of saving his faithful dog OR his sexy girlfriend (oh, for chrissakes). A middle-age man’s reflection in store window has to talk the guy into admitting to his doctor that his pecker has gone missing the wood. Meanwhile, another husband is mystified at how his wife can make their whiz-bang new air freshener spray smelly stuff while he can’t (push the button, stupid). Still another clueless hubby searches the fridge for yummy snacks as his wife describes to a friend on the phone how she enjoyed Boston cream pie dessert for lunch. That a yogurt manufacturer might be getting creative with naming product flavors is apparently too bewildering a concept for this fellow. The only cream pie he is likely to find will be between the legs of his wife.

A television ad that really plucks my last nerve is the sexist moron who sees a shapely female plumber in tight slacks enter his neighbor’s home, and proceeds to feverishly dump all manner of household items into his own toilet. Presumably, if he can clog it up in time while the lady plumber is still in the neighborhood, he’ll have a chance to gawk at her ass up close and personal. Alas, just as the moron empties a 20-pound bag of dog food into his shitter, his wife arrives on the scene to bring his ridiculous fantasy to a screeching halt.

Kohler, what the hell were you people thinking? God forbid they should show the guy just as he has risen from his toilet and is buckling his trousers. He turns around and looks downward to inspect his latest deposit (lets face it, all men do this) and, concerned over its meatiness, he crosses his fingers as he works the flush lever, or perhaps gazes upward as if asking for Devine assistance to save him from the nasty business of snaking or plunging all that poop. Flush… whoosh… happy days. Our man smiles at the camera and simply says, “All gone!”

Speaking of meaty, I’m reminded of my ex brother-in-law who, after many days of suffering from impacted bowels caused by rectal surgery, “gave birth” to what would come to be known as “the meatloaf shit” that his father had to beat with a stick before it would flush. Okay… admittedly, TMI, and no bathroom fixture manufacturer would ever be interested in THIS story. But you know what, at least it has a lot more to do with reality than does a man flushing his wife’s African violet and Fido’s dinner, just to get a peek at a female plumber’s shapely posterior.

I wonder: are these ads being written and produced by women? Some, maybe, but surely not all. So why does Madison Avenue seem to want to portray men in this manner? Is this their idea of the true American male? If so, some of those ad people need to get involved in femdom relationships… maybe join the She Makes the Rules forum on wife-led marriage. They’d have a chance to rub elbows with real-life men such as yours truly who, despite maintaining submissive roles in our homes, are anything but the moronic buffoons we are being made out to be. We who voluntarily submit to loving female authority are WAY too smart to flush anything belonging to the women we worship.

Children having flown


Among the few women I dated during my years in college, there was one particular sorority girl who gave me something to think about outside of what I was learning in class. In those days, when you first got together, conversation centered around subjects such as your course load, which Psych profs were okay and which weren't, whose asses our football team was gonna kick next (we were a Big Ten powerhouse), and whether or not the Beatles might get back together. Later, you progressed to more personal stuff such as family background. It was at this level when my sorority girl shared with me how, now that she was in college, her parents were probably going to get divorce--after 30 years of marriage. They only had stayed together until she and her older sister had grown up and left home.

Later, I had occasion to stay at my girl friend's home for a few days. She'd been raised in a modest but comfortable brick rancher in typical middle-class suburban neighborhood. Her mom was a diminutive and personable lady who stood all of about five-foot one. Family members called her Big Martha. Her dad seemed somewhat older and nice enough, but as I recall, a bit on the dull side. Both parents were very good to me during my visit, maybe better than they were to each other. Mom made me the first homemade french fries I had ever eaten, and vanilla pudding because it was my fav. Dad helped me out of a jam caused by serious car trouble that had left me stranded.

I remember marveling, both during my visit and for long afterward, at how it could be possible that these two nice people, any two people for that matter, could build a life together over so many years and raise two wonderful children, only to prefer to fold up the tents and go their separate ways (well, one of them did anyway). At the age of 19, this was the first time I had been exposed to this sad side of marriage in our society. Wow, was I ever naive.

A middle-aged wife looks at her balding husband from across the breakfast table. She sees only that he is unshaven, his hairy beer belly spilling out between the hem of his yellowed undershirt and the tattered waistband of his boxer shorts. There was a time when she might suggest they explore a flea market she saw advertised in the Penny Saver. Now she knows better than to talk for fear of interrupting a crucial segment of the morning news on television. Instead she silently plans to visit the flea market alone, to shop for some new second-hand toys for when the grand kids come to visit.

During a commercial break for Cialis, the woman's husband reiterates to his masculine ego how had his wife not gained 75 pounds, replete with sagging breasts and cellulite dimpled ass, he is confident he could once again maintain the magnificent, stiff erection of his youth. When his wife mentions she plans to go shopping, he makes a mental note to use his time alone in the house to visit his favorite Internet porn sites. Holy crap! This is it for the duration... and two of the Beatles are fucking dead!

Going on 40 years after my college days, after a combined 50+ years of marriage and having varying numbers of children in our home(s) for 30 years, GoddessV and I are about to become empty nesters. And so, like the couple described above, will sharing a breakfast table be about the only thing we have in common? To be sure, life without kids in the house will surely be different. Yes, there are a few things to be sad about as any parent with grown kids knows. But over all, there are plenty of great reasons to celebrate. One of those reasons just happens to be the impact having no kids in the home will have on our femdom relationship. Even as I think about it, it's difficult to fully imagine.