Category Archives: Man Fail

No, I’ll Not Be Seeing 50 Shades This Weekend

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Or any time, actually. And no, not for some pretentious holier than thou reason either. You wanna get in on some ‘Mommy Porn,’ have at it for all I care. Yes, I love God and I love my husband, seeing this movie wouldn’t change any of that. Hell, maybe I should go see it. It’ll make me even more glad that I’m not married to some petulant man-child with mommy issues.

—-Links are NSFW—-

No, I haven’t read it. I tried, really I did, but the writing is so outrageously bad that I spend way too much time laughing at the clumsy narrative and terrible grammar than getting into the story*.

The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. [Jen’s Note: She’s going up]

 

Which is good, because if I could get into the story I’d be completely disgusted. Rather than read through it myself, I’ve followed along with Cliff at The Pervocracy (If you have a moral issue with pornography and alternative lifestyles, you might not want to spend too much time over there. If not, you might learn something about BDSM while you’re there.).

I’m just going to cut right to the chase here. It’s still stalking, abuse, and rape even if he’s really really good looking. If he tells you that you can’t use a safe word, you don’t have a safe word. I couldn’t care less what kinky fun-times you want to have provided there is consent.

But this?

This is the first time I have ever had sex in my home, and as sex goes, I think it was pretty damn fine. But now I feel like a receptacle – an empty vessel to be filled at his whim. […] I have an overwhelming urge to cry, a sad and lonely melancholy grips and tightens round my heart. Dashing back to my bedroom, I close the door and lean against it trying to rationalize my feelings. I can’t. Sliding to the floor, I put my head in my hands as my tears begin to flow.

Yeah, that’s exactly how romance should make you feel. In bizarro world. It’s not kinky edgy romance; it’s a drawn out rape fantasy with a super-sized side order of co-dependency. He’s not dreamy; he’s a predator. Personally, I prefer my fantasy men to be confident and respectable and not the kind of guy that could be completely emasculated because his lady friend bought him breakfast at IHOP.

Ladies, Hollywood just told you that your greatest sexual fantasy is to be subjugated, stalked, and abused by a rich and handsome man. Yeah, sisterhood?

*Remember that time I used a run-on, rambly sentence to describe terrible writing? Yeah, like that.

Man Fail or Sadistic Designers

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I get it, not everyone is into the traditional manly man.  And that’s fine, really.  There’s nothing wrong with that. But I think some of these designers just revel in making their male models uncomfortable.

I mean, does this guy look happy to you?

ruffleshorts

 

Poor boy.  Will someone please get him a lollipop?

Ladies, I give you the man your man could

claws

 

Steam and serve with garlic butter.

At least this guy looks…

um…

Warm? Not with those holes.  Fluffy?

sweaterandmittens

Take the knitting needles away!

And just in case you ever wake up in the morning and think, “Gosh, I wish I looked more like abandoned property.”

fence

Please, don’t take offense.  Or, a fence, as it were.

I wonder if this was actually planned or if it is the model’s flowery cry for help.

pleasekillme

 

Awe. Look on the bright side.  At least you’ve got…er.

*bites lower lip*

For the love of fashion, will someone please fetch this man a suit?


All this and more can be found here.

Edit: Title edited.  Thanks Christina!

 

 

We Must Ban Sewing Machines!

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Just look at what they have done.

I think it's a super-villain disguise. Or he has a mustache of daggers.

I don't think you get to count it as design when you just wrap a brightly colored towel around a hot guy wearing make-up.

Um. Yeah, I got nothing.

Oh look! It's the Soldier of Fabulous!

What do you wear with your long underwear, anyway? I know! There's this Victorian inspired coat left over from some vampire movie. Just throw that on and look like you wish you were the guy in the onesie.

Why do I have the strong suspicion these designers graduated from the University of Minnesota?

NO!

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We have discussed this.

This:

Not manly.

Remember the girlfriend with the great style? Here’s a tribute to her — a fit that’s super-snug allover, an update of the five-pocket classic that’s as skinny as it gets. Made with plenty of stretch. This pair of Levi’s® Jeans is part of our program that minimizes water in the finishing process. Country Of Origin: Imported

Honey, if you’re wearing what looks like your ex-girlfriend’s pants, you aren’t going to find a new girlfriend any time soon.  Your pants should not be so tight as to allow someone to read your credit card number off the imprint on your butt.

Now I Know Who Is Really In Charge

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Dog Walk

Dog Walk

It’s Bo!

This explains so much.  Of course he isn’t qualified to lead the country; he can’t even lead a dog.  Ass kicker indeed.  No shock who is really the alpha male in the white house.

Today’s Told Ya So

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The sparkly whiny vampire wanna-be that is so moody and insecure that he’s stalking a whiny high school girl, remember him?   He’s allergic to vagina.  Lemme say that again for all the creepy weird Twi-moms having fantasies that would get you put on a list if they were to come true.

He’s allergic to vaginas.

I really hate vaginas. I’m allergic to vagina. But I can’t say I had no idea, because it was a 12-hour shoot, so you kind of get the picture that these women are going to stay naked after, like, five or six hours. But I wasn’t exactly prepared. I had no idea what to say to these girls. Thank God I was hungover.

Although, he may have some weird fascination with elephants.

Did you know elephants purr? It’s completely scary if you don’t know what it is. They purr like cats, but their heads are so deep they sound like velociraptors. You feel it in the ground under your feet. So this big female started sniffing my foot—big female elephant, that is. She sniffed it so hard it came up off the pavement like her trunk was a vacuum cleaner. Then she took my entire body in her mouth. I was holding on to her head, and as I slowly let go she tightened her grip really carefully until I’m just upside down in her mouth and she’s going through my pockets with her trunk, looking for peppermints. It was the best day of my life. Yeah. So beautiful you can’t imagine. And the baby elephant was so excited that it sprinted out and did its routine in five seconds and then curtsied to everybody. It was actually laughing. Brilliant. Did you know they can also do imitations of other animals? A horse, a chicken, a monkey—these elephants could, anyway. They were movie elephants. One had written a screenplay, and one really wants to direct.

At least he didn’t compare his penis to a Klan leader.

(Hmm, can I work in Viagra and Cialis just to complete the spammer bait in this post?)

I’m afraid you can’t just vacuum the rug to deal with this allergy ladies. (Oh man, there’s a double meaning in there, I just know it. Shave the cat?  No, that’s worse.)  I’m afraid you may just have to make do with this pillow.  And hey, making anything else with that pillow is probably not a felony.

Argh!!! Noooooooo! Man Fail!

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Dudes + Pantyhose = Mantyhose.

*facepalm

They’re Men, They’re Men in Tiiights!

They roam around the forest looking for fights!

Um, this guy won’t have any trouble finding those fights.  I’d kick his as just for the short pleated skirt.  Dudes shouldn’t wear shorts this short.

And again with the uterus retreating.

I get it.  Some men wear hosiery under their clothing where it’s really freaking cold.  Fine.  Do what you gotta do.  But for the love of all things manly, don’t let me see it!

Maybe he’s a lumberjack

I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK
I sleep all night and I work all day
(He’s a lumberjack and he’s OK
He sleeps all night and he works all day)
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch
I go to the lavat’ry
On Wednesdays I go shopping
And have buttered scones for tea
(He cuts down trees…)
(He’s a lumberjack…)
I cut down trees, I skip and jump
I love to press wild flow’rs
I put on women’s clothing
And hang around in bars
(He cuts down trees…)
(He’s a lumberjack…)
I cut down trees, I wear high heels
Suspenders and a bra
I wish I’d been a girlie
Just like my dear papar
(He cuts down trees…)
(He’s a lumberjack…)

Ya know what guys?  If you’re wearing these, you’re not getting laid.  Simple as that. I don’t wear pantyhose anymore.  They are annoying and they ruin easily.  For me, pantyhose are one time use only.  I expect any real man to live life in a far more rough and tumble fashion than I.  These wouldn’t last an hour on my hubby.

I do wear the occasional pair of tights when appropriate and when needed for added warmth.  If a guy needs them for warmth, I shouldn’t be able to see them.  I need them for warmth because I might be wearing a skirt in the winter.  Come on, Celtic men have worn kilts (sexy) in Scotland with no tights for generations.  Have I mentioned I have a high standard for masculinity?

A man wearing mantyhose does not make me want to bear him sons.  I have no desire to have pansy weakling sons.  If you want to land yourself a dangerous woman, mantyhose are not going to help.  You may as well be wearing some flowery scent and showing off your cat’s latest show ribbons.  And driving a minivan.

MAN FAIL

Again! No! No! No! No!

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Argh!  First we had Manscara, and then Meggings, and now this?!?!

OMGWTFBBQ?

And it’s not even Russell GirlyMan Brand this time sporting it.  But this might just be his kitchen.

This is apparently where a man is supposed to enjoy that age old practice of applying fire to meat in order to create food.  The color?  Man-genta.  Seriously, throwing ‘man’ into a word where it never belonged in the first place does not magically add testicles to the thing.  No matter how you screw with the language, you cannot infuse testosterone where it does not occur naturally.  Just because Ken’s junk is reportedly hiding somewhere in Barbie’s dream house, it does not mean you can barf pink all over a place and call it manly.  It’s just not right.

Thankfully I can gaze across the living room at my man while he works with the skin of dead animals.  Manliness is not dead yet.

It seems that it’s curtains for the last remnants of manhood residing in New York.   Lacy, gently wafting curtains.