Today, thanks to the wonders of the internet, I went on what is, by far, the worst date of my life. That’s bad news for me and worse news for your desire for more grandchildren, but wonderful news for the readers of Fantastic Manliness. Normally I would just summarize the experience with “I don’t think we’re going out again,” but in this case that won’t suffice. Because I love you and because I try to post one of these lists at least once a quarter, here are the reasons why I have no future with this woman: Continue reading
The therapist who has been helping me rebuild my memory after my horrible hot air balloon accident has informed me that I used to have this blog. Dear Dear Prudence appears to be a regular feature, so I’m writing another one. Wear a helmet when hot air ballooning, kids!
Every week Slate, an online magazine that’s a lot like if Reason was written by the editors of Cat Fancy, runs an advice column called Dear Prudence. Written by D.C.-based Emily Yoffe, the column is similar in format to Dear Abby (ask your librarian) and covers a range of topics such as manners, etiquette, familial relations, and of course how to deal with ill-conceived sexual decisions. At least one of that last one makes it into the column every week. Drink when you hit it. We here at Dear Dear Prudence like to take another crack at the questions she has been posed, so that the people who ask them may have the benefit of a second opinion.
After seeing several friends go through bitter and prolonged divorces, my husband has decided that he wants us to have a postnuptial agreement. He explains that our marriage is a “limited liability partnership” with no “out clause” and that he wants to put a “stop loss” in place, as if our marriage is one of his stock market trades. He says he doesn’t want to go on in this “contract”—meaning our marriage—unless I sign a postnup. We have been married four years and have a toddler son. We live in a state that says assets should be divided equitably in a divorce, but the postnup he offers would give me only 20 percent of his financial assets and he’d keep the house because he owned it before we were married. We both work, though I make two-thirds of his income. I consulted an attorney who says my husband’s proposal is “total B.S.” and I shouldn’t sign. My husband says if I don’t he will serve me with divorce papers. He adds this has nothing to do with his feelings for me or our son, and would prefer to continue living together even if we do divorce. I love the life we had together and don’t want to lose it. We even had been talking about having a second child. But he is obviously more worried about protecting his growing wealth than he is about our family. I just don’t know what to do. —To Sign or Not To Sign? Continue reading
I gave up posting for Lent. As penance, a fresh Dear Dear Prudence, to be shared by you and the almighty.
Every week Slate, an online magazine that’s a lot like if Harper’s was written by the editors of Entertainment Weekly, runs an advice column called Dear Prudence. Written by D.C.-based Emily Yoffe, the column is similar in format to Dear Abby (ask your librarian) and covers a range of topics such as manners, etiquette, familial relations, and of course how to deal with ill-conceived sexual decisions. At least one of that last one makes it into the column every week. Drink when you hit it. We here at Dear Dear Prudence like to take another crack at the questions she has been posed, so that the people who ask them may have the benefit of a second opinion.
This week (hah!) we hear from a woman whose husband’s only flaw is that he is a terrible father and probably impossible to live with, a guy who doesn’t want us to know he’s thinking about cheating on his wife, and a huge jerk. Sounds about right.
I hit the jackpot with my husband. He treats me like a queen, cleans the house, has a successful career that allows me to be a stay-at-home mom, encourages me to have evenings out with girlfriends, etc. We’ve been happily married for 10 years and have two wonderful children ages 5 and 7. My concern is that while I know he loves our children, he doesn’t enjoy them. He was raised by an obsessive-compulsive-type mother who still vacuums twice a day. He barks at the kids if there’s a sock lying around or a toy on the floor. He yells if he has to ask them twice to do anything. When he gets home, he wants to tell me about his day while I’m cooking dinner. The kids sometimes interrupt, which drives my husband crazy. They hate to be left alone with him because he’s “grumpy.” He thinks, wrongly, that they are naughtier than other children, and I feel defensive that he’s criticizing the way I’m raising them. My mother says he parents the way he was parented and he turned out great. I’m going away with some girlfriends, and he’s said that “things are going to change” and he’s going to “fix the kids.” I’m secretly afraid of him trying. Should I just accept that he’ll always be hard on them? The kids are the only thing we argue about.
—Dad Dilemma Continue reading
Add a countdown clock and buzzer: Sure, we all know how long Mass is supposed to be, but to have an actual number on it can really make the whole thing less of a chore to sit through. If the Father feels like going long on the homily, it’s gonna cost him some recessional rites time. If he doesn’t get it all in before the buzzer, well, that’s on him.
Put a crossword in the program, and if you finish it before Communion you don’t have to stay for the last song: There will always be the people who attentively listen for the entirety of Mass, sing along to every song, and quietly hope the piano keeps going for all seven verses of the recessional hymn. Those people are dorks. Everyone else will likely spend Mass periodically zoning out and thinking about what they plan to do afterward, or what they did the night before, or how ugly the baby in the front row is. Those people probably aren’t really getting the message, so offer them a carrot – make a crossword puzzle where everyone who completes it has this week’s message or lesson subliminally processed through their head. In exchange for getting it done, they can go home right after Communion. I think that’s fair.
We haven’t done this since 2011, kinda like everything else on Fantastic Manliness.
Every week Slate, an online magazine that’s a lot like if Nickelodeon The Magazine was written by the editors of Highlights for Children, runs an advice column called Dear Prudence. Written by D.C.-based Emily Yoffe, the column is similar in format to Dear Abby (ask your librarian) and covers a range of topics such as manners, etiquette, familial relations, and of course how to deal with ill-conceived sexual decisions. At least one of that last one makes it into the column a week. Drink when you hit it.
On this episode we provide questionable counsel to a man whose girlfriend has kissed other men in her past (gasp!), a woman whose in-laws never learned how to be adults, another woman whose prankster husband almost killed someone, and a graduate student whose problem doesn’t matter because graduate students are literally the worst people on Earth. Let’s get slap happy!
My girlfriend and I are in law school together and have been dating for six months. Things are getting serious—she is the love of my life. Her best friend is getting married this spring, and my girlfriend is the maid of honor. I was excited to attend this wedding as her date. However, she recently confessed that she had previously made out with three of the groomsmen, including the best man who will walk her down the aisle. I was completely taken aback by this. She said who she made out with in the past isn’t really any of my business, but she wanted to tell me so I wasn’t in the dark at the wedding. I’m pretty upset. She said I should consider how she feels, having to participate in a wedding along with these guys. That makes sense, but those are the repercussions of her actions. Should I go to the wedding and be uncomfortable watching her walk down the aisle with someone she’s kissed before, who is still in love with her? Or should I just skip the whole thing and save myself some emotional trouble? Continue reading
The idea well is running dry this week, so I’m doing what any well-adjusted adult would do and writing an article about pooping! We all know simply announcing “I’m gonna go take a dump” is a little crude for polite company, so here are fifteen was to get your point across without smelling up the joint, linguistically-speaking. Without question, this is a new low for Fantastic Manliness.
“Briefing The Admiral” Navy people love this one because briefing a superior officer often feels like pooing upward. Army people love it because they hate the Navy. Air Force people replace “Admiral” with “General” and say they invented it. Marines just say “I’ve gotta take a shit” because why mince words?
“Losing Some Weight” This one’s technically true. After all, poop has weight just like any other mass in your body. I’d like to be able to track each…uh…”incident’s” weight over time, but unfortunately the powers that be in Washington won’t let us have toilets equipped with scales. They’re afraid it would encourage competition. I don’t think that’s something to be afraid of.
Remember when this was supposed to be a weekly feature? Me neither! We’re back with more D.D.P. after taking October and November off.
Every week Slate, an online magazine that’s a lot like if TMZ was written by the editors of The Economist, runs an advice column called Dear Prudence. Written by D.C.-based Emily Yoffe, the column is similar in format to Dear Abby (ask your parents) and covers a range of topics such as manners, etiquette, familial relations, and of course how to deal with ill-conceived sexual decisions. At least one of those makes it into the column a week. Drink when you hit it.
This week we deal with the medical mysteries of adoption, why women don’t understand pissing in sinks, strange manifestations of other-woman guilt, and women thinking too hard about friendship. Put a pink magnetic ribbon on your car and pretend to like missionary, it’s Ladies’ Night on Fantastic Manliness!
My father was adopted as a baby in the 1950s. About all I know is that his birth parents eventually married and that he has full brothers and sisters. He does not want to know anything about his biological family, and I respect that, I really do. However, my husband and I want to have children in the near future and I feel it is important to have a more complete family medical history, though it’s not that the presence of some horrible disease will likely sway our decision. (My niece does have a rare, genetic blood disorder which my mother points out could be from her side of the family.) I have asked my mother many times over the years how I can get this information, to no avail. I’ve thought about hiring someone to track down the biological family or having genetic testing done, but these things are simply too expensive. My mom supports my dad’s decision to know nothing and feels that it is not my business to ask such questions. My dad doesn’t have much adoptive family left and they would probably be insulted by such an inquiry. Should I talk to my dad about all this? If so, how can I explain that I support his decision not to have a relationship with his biological family and that I am purely interested in shedding some light on my own family medical history? Continue reading
It’s time for another edition of 757 Doesn’t Suck. This week we’re headed to Chin’s Cafe for their weekly restaurant-within-a-restaurant, Norfolk Ramen.
I came across this place completely by accident. During weekend downtime I tend to lounge around on a family-oriented internet forum about cats and knitting. They have a subforum dedicated to food which I pop into every two weeks or so when I want to drool over photos people take of the things they’ve cooked. It really is amazing how many people keep a DSLR in their kitchen. There was a thread titled “Norfolk Ramen” and, like anyone who has a chip on their shoulder about living in a medium-sized metro, I just assumed it had something to do with the Norfolk in the U.K. As it turned out, the thread was about Chin’s Cafe on Hampton Boulevard in Norfolk, VA – served me right for assuming otherwise. Every Sunday Chin’s serves a selection of ramen noodle bowls in addition to their regular menu and call it Norfolk Ramen.
This week the world of college football was rocked by the revelation that beloved Penn State Defensive Coordinator Jerry Sandusky was a serial child rapist. I, personally, was amazed that a team in the Big Ten could actually find a new way to suck – even moreso when it turned out to be a team other than Ohio State. Sandusky was caught in
red-penised red-handed by a Graduate Assistant in 2002 who went on to join Head Coach Joe Paterno’s coaching staff. The Assistant reported the incident to Paterno, who then informed the school’s Athletic Director that Sandusky is a…uh…let’s say “4chan user” when it comes to sex. Paterno then went about his business quasi-coaching a football team that needed a new head coach 20 years ago, never to think of it again.
Alright, well in retrospect I guess this looks pretty bad