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A Little Knowledge

By Skippy

Hey kids! Uncle Skippy reporting from the wilds of Sacramento. I know I've been remiss in my duties as your pop culture arbiter lately. It has been a hectic couple of months, I would go into it, but do you really think that you deserve to know that much about my personal life? I didn't think so, you are a mouth breather after all. But I digress, (as I so often do) you came here for wisdom and wisdom you shall have.

Now I know that you kids were expecting me to go off on some rabid diatribe against President Dubya Quayl(e) and his bionic VP. I also know that many of you agree with me that PDQ and BVP are assuming the White House after a somewhat questionable election. I could go that way and you would all be dazzled by my prescience and wit, but it doesn't feel right. Not with the new spirit of bipartisanship that is sweeping the nation these days. What with PDQ naming a Democrat to his cabinet and Orrin Hatch talking about pardoning Bill Clinton, it just wouldn't be right of me to take potshots at the new big cheese. Give it a month and check back, we should have returned to our partisan ways by then.

Of course that means that I need to find a topic in the meantime. I suppose I could stretch my sabbatical out for another month. But that would be cheating you, my fans, my loyal Skip Army, from receiving the wisdom you so desperately need. That isn't Skippy, that isn't love. So in order to give you your monthly quotient of enlightenment, it's time to revisit a subject that we all know and love, male/female communication, or as a friend of mine once put it, "boys, girls, separate rooms."

I am continually amazed at how little I understand the fairer sex. I am a pretty smart guy that has spent a fair amount of time attempting to puzzle out the female thought process. I read books, I check out Cosmo, I've seen "Fried Green Tomatoes" for the love of Pete. Yet, when the rubber hits the road (no, that is not a sexual euphemism) I have no idea what goes on in those heads of yours ladies. You are a complete and utter mystery to the ever lovin' Skipster and no amount of effort on my part seems to dent the veil of secrecy surrounding your worldview.

A case in point. Just the other evening I was relaxing at home with my current sig oth, watching a little TV, just puttering around the new digs. She seemed a bit put off and I of course had no clue as to why. So I did the male thing and ignored the situation on the hopes it would resolve itself on its own. Surprisingly enough, this didn't work. The tension followed us to bed and into the next evening.

There was a movie we both wanted to see and I reminded her that it was playing at a certain time. She then says to me, "Oh, so now you want to see a movie." I replied that I wanted to see this movie the night before (I was actually kind of ambivalent about seeing the movie and really would have preferred to stay home and watch TV, but no sense ceding the moral high ground.), but was under the impression that she wanted to stay in for the evening.

This was not my best move. She then asked what gave me that impression and I told her that when I arrived home from work she had immediately turned on the TV. When we went out for dinner later that evening she asked me if there anything worth watching on that night. I had said that given the fact that I receive several hundred movie channels on my cable, we could probably find something to watch. She then made a noncommittal sound and that was that. I told her that nowhere in there did she say to me, "Let's go see a movie tonight" or the more subtle, but just as effective, "What time is the movie playing?"

Again, this was not my best move. She proceeded to explain to me that by asking what was on TV and hinting that there wouldn't be anything worth watching, she was in fact saying, "I don't want to watch TV, I want to go to the movies." I will pause for a moment to allow that to sink in... you see, she actually wanted the exact opposite of what she was saying.

Now you would think that this would be a valuable nugget of information that I could use to understand her in the future. You would of course be completely and utterly wrong. I happen to know for a fact that she only means the opposite of what she says some of the time. For instance, when she tells me that I am not allowed to have meaningless sex with random strangers, she does not mean the opposite.

When she tells me that she would rather not join me each Monday and Thursday for Raw! and Smackdown! and would, in fact, rather shave her head and be dipped in candle wax, she does not mean the opposite.

When she tells me that instead of wasting every weekend of the month of January watching playoff football, I should, instead, go with her to find the perfect antique nightstand for her recently redecorated bedroom, she does not mean the opposite.

Wait a minute! I have noticed a trend here. Every time she tells me something I want hear, she means exactly the opposite. On the other hand, whenever she tells me what I don't want to hear, she means precisely what she says. Well hell, I can figure that out easily enough. I'm pretty psyched about this, I have cracked the code! My relationship can now move forward at warp speed! I can become the sensitive and understanding man that every woman craves! All I have to do is realize is that regardless of what she says, she never, ever wants to do

Damn, I was better off ignorant. Which really is the most important thing that men can know about women. Don't attempt to understand them. It's too late for me, she will read this and she will know that I understand what she actually wants from me. If I don't deliver on this knowledge my life will become an unending, passive/aggressive hell.

I'm doomed, but you guys can still save yourselves. Don't ever mention this, forget you ever read it, go back into your warm and happy shell of blissful ignorance. Just continue to stumble through life making the same stupid mistakes over and over and then fall back on the "What do you want from me, I'm just a big, dopey guy." defense. I ask only this, every now and then, when you are happily watching reruns of Scandinavian Midget Football, think of me and say a little prayer, I'll be out at antiquing.

signed, Skippy