|Putin - so manly at only 5 feet 6 inches.|
Women must often thank their lucky stars that they are not men. Being a man is hard. There are many difficult things to learn and challenging skills to master.
When men sneeze, they mustn't emit pathetic, whimpering sneezes but full-blown, powerful blasts that make small children and sleeping pets jump. To achieve this impressive level of sneezing takes months of secret practice and I am eternally grateful to my late father Philip for the many hours he spent with me down by our local canal teaching me the art of manly sneezing.
It's exactly the same with the passing of noxious wind. Real men must fart like trumpeters - not sneaking them out with feminine silent apology. A manly fart should reverberate, causing the performer to smile with a sense of masculine achievement and pride. It should measure no less than 160 decibels and if possible form a small chain of loud emissions - not a solitary blast.
Burping requires a lifetime of exercise in order to maximise length, volume and the disgusted glances of female witnesses. Of course, certain foodstuffs and drinks will aid the production of impressive burps. Personally, I find that "Pepsi Max" is excellent burping fuel and from one single can I can easily muster fourteen or fifteen manly burps.
Men have to learn to master a range of manly devices from the screwdriver to the electric lawn mower and from the power drill to the television remote control. Even so, there are devices that real men must never come to terms with and these include the vacuum cleaner, the steam iron with ironing board, food mixers, automatic washing machines and central heating controls. Real men do not feel the cold and even when their home is freezing like The North Pole they must walk around in string vests and underpants, scratching their private parts while announcing "I'm not cold".
When proper men go shopping, they do not browse or loiter. They have no understanding of the term "leisure shopping". Visiting the shops is like a Viking raid. You know exactly what you want. You go into the shop, purchase it and then get out as quickly as possible. This is why the average family man only spends a maximum of ten minutes on Christmas present shopping each year.
To be a fully qualified man you must be able to fight. Okay you are not going to be fighting every week or even every year but you must always be ready. You never know when you are going to need to get another bloke in a headlock or beat him to the floor. It's probably something inscribed deep in our DNA that goes back to our hunting and gathering ancestors
Modern men - at least in the rich western world - drive cars. When in charge of a car a man must adopt a state of mind in which he sees himself as the world's best driver. As he looks out on other road users he will see thousands of mindless wallies whose driving skills are so appalling that they will require certain hand gestures, mouthed swear words and angry blasts from the horn.
With regard to food, a man must never leave an empty plate. He must eat the entire meal - no matter how high the plate has been piled. This will include fat, gristle, bones and any accidentally included foreign bodies such as caterpillars or hairs. And naturally when the meal is over he must signal his satisfaction with a manly burp. It is the same down at the pub where a man should never partake of soft drinks or less than five pints of beer on each visit.
Yes. Being a man isn't easy. I have tried my best to pass on all that I know to my own son and am happy to report that he is a chip off the old block - demonstrating his manliness each day in most of the ways described above. As Rudyard Kipling wrote:-
If you can sneeze with power and keep your virtue,
Or fart like Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can outburp you,
If all men fight with you, but none too much;
If you can clear your plate in just a minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
|William Tell and son|