@msolga,
Quote:You've got it all wrong, Spendy. Getting the men to cook is not some plot thought up by "feministas"!
Well Olga-- I suppose I would say that if I was bent on a takeover of the world by the hand that rocks the cradle and didn't think there was anybody left on the other side who either had the wit or the guts to see me coming.
I would imagine that the reason it is difficult to pry "the tongs from the bloke turning the sausages at the barby" is that such activities keep his mind off his being emasculated: a subject which is bound to leap into his consciousness as soon as his mind becomes disconnected from trivialities and fatuity.
There is no chance of me trying it. I don't want all the women laughing at me and patronising me in the manner you have just done to your heroes.
Cooking is a magical process. A table with plates of grub just appear out of nowhere and I eat it all up. A bit like the feeding of the 5,000. A miracle. Magic is a feminine activity. All the ancient oracles were feminine and the mysteries were presided over by priestesses.
Men are for the dangerous jobs and are obviously expendable. It isn't my fault that dangerous jobs are few and far between.
I once tried prying the shopping trolley from a lady's grip after I read that supermarkets were a good place to meet randy, bored housewives. No chance.
Anyway--I hate moments of glory. They have a finality I don't care for.
And Bob Dylan said to only eat food prepared by someone who loves you and men hate me.
It's only nutrient after all. Socrates ate dried bread and Henry Miller said he could eat earwax. Get into that kitchen and rattle them pots and pans.