|Neither Snickers Bar nor Mars, Incorporated,|
have paid Angela for her endorsement...
and that is a frickin', cryin' shame.
The Most Brilliant — and Funniest — Woman in the World
Now the P-HWPCDLRSFC women say gazing — at a man, — gives them a sense of purpose, of... of... connectedness. Paying for the privilege is worth it because it helps them center themselves and get in touch with their strong inner wounded lioness. Oh, the irony is just like, going, you know, like, all over the, you know, like, like...crawling all over me.
Women flock to Braco the Gazer, their newest guru, because he's a man who stares in their eyes and doesn't say anything. They can then put any meaning on it they want. They can take this profound moment home and...
Hang tight just one frickin' minute.
I already know where this is going. It is called "The Phil Donahue Effect."
These women will all go home to their menfolk and then hound them to death with "Why can't you be more like Braco? He wouldn't do [insert trivial first-world-problem crime against woman here]. Braco would just... just... read my heart and... and... understand!"
Look, ladies, when Braco goes home to his significant other and she asks him to take out the trash, I can double gare-O-damn-tee ya what the conversation will be. Let's listen in, shall we?
The mudroom door from the garage swings open and slams shut. Braco's Significant Other (BS-O) hears Braco the Gazer (BG) kick off his faux snakeskin boots and cut the cheese with a loud rip. BG walks in to the kitchen. BS-O is at the sink, elbow deep in suds. Dinner simmers on the stove. Smells good and BG is hungry after a long day of gazing.
BS-O: Braco, honey, could you take the trash out, please?
BS-O: Honey? Did you hear me? Could you —
BG: [Interrupting BS-O] Good God, woman! Can't you give me just one frickin' minute to unwind before cuttin' loose with your Honey-Do List?
BS-O: [Wrinkling her nose as cheese scent reaches her but also staring back at BG]
BG: What?!? WHAT?!?!
BS-O: [Staring some more.]
BG: [Staring at BS-O]
BG: What does [copies sigh of BS-O] mean?
BS-O: [Putting on her Mama voice] Take the trash out or you know Daddy won't be getting any of that healing he likes so much for a month, right?
BG: [Executes a smart turn on his heel as he searches for the container] Where is that trashcan, darlin'?
BS-O: [Pointing] That's my good boy. Hurry up, now. Dinner is almost ready.
BG: [Yanking bag from can and heading out the door] Yes, ma'am.