Don’t sweat on me
Where have all the real men and real women gone? What happened to the days when men were men, and women were women, and vive la différence?
(Please bear in mind that I’m writing this story from a man’s point of view – because I was born a man. Well, actually I wasn’t born a man, as such. When I was born, I was just a little baby. A baby boy, in fact. But, as I grew up, I became a man because of my XY chromosome configuration – nothing I could do about it.)
Now, before all of you lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people get your nappies in a knot, let’s get the ground rules straight: I am NOT a xylophone. I have NO problem with your sexual disorientation. Some of my BEST friends are my best friends. And they’ll always be.
There. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s get on with my story.
I recently came across some photos of extreme female bodybuilders on the Internet. Scary stuff indeed! I could actually smell the steroids and testosterone and aftershave coming off their photos on my computer screen. All muscles and veins and arteries and six-packs and fake suntans and olive-oiled bodies. But virtually no boobies. Shame!
They all looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger (in his heyday) clones. Except that Schwarzenegger had bigger Brüste.
Can you imagine coming home (after a night out with the boys) to one of these over-generously proportioned lassies? Can you imagine the pain and suffering she’ll be able to inflict on your inebriated carcass?
Now imagine if one of these Herculean gals, in a moment of unbridled passion, got her legs wrapped around your beer boep and decided to put the squeeze on you? Almost as bad as having your fiscus stretched to the limit. Or being circumnavigated by an unqualified sangoma, nê?
(OK, Sakkie. I know. Some things are just too ghastly to contemplate.)
*Cicero, a Roman philosopher (106-43 BC), once said: “Viri autem propria maxime est fortitude.” In translation, this means: “A man’s chief attribute is to look more masculine than his wife.”
I was never much of a team player; having grown up on a farm with no other kids to play with. Horses, cows, pigs, and chickens don’t make much of a team. Neither do sheep – unless you’re an Australian. Which I’m not.
But that’s neither there nor here.
I’ll let you in on a well kept secret. I suffer from Hypothermosis sapiens: The fear of getting another man sweat on me. At school, I couldn’t play rugby in any position in the scrum, for fear of my team mates wiping their sweat off on me.
(Funny enough: I’ve never had any such problems with female precipitation.)
Some things are hard to get used to. And some things I’ll never get used to.
Like having a man touch me on my studio.
Or coughing – while a doctor is applying pressure with his cold rubberized hand against my naked groin.
And to tell you something else: if I should ever see anyone approaching me with a rubber glove, a bottle of Vaseline, and a gleam in his eye, that person had better be ready to meet his Maker. Pretty damn soon!
Lastly, I have always been a keen adherent of the Code of Hammurabi (1750 BC). Hammurabi (PBUH) understood the vive la différence thing. Some of his Rules:
Rule 3: “Men and women each have their roles to play in the greater scheme of things.”
Rule 15: “If your wife is perceived to be a man’s man by your friends, then you will be perceived as someone for whom there is no such word in Pedi.”
Rule 128: “If any man takes a woman as his wife, but she vanquishes him at arm wrestling, this woman is no wife to him.”
Rule 546: “Men were created to function at their best when there is an element of danger involved. For instance: fishing, playing pool, braaing, relaxing by the pool, camping, watching sport, or hanging out in bars.”
Rule 655: “Women were created beautiful and nice smelling. They perform at their best when serving their husbands: cleaning the house, cooking, doing the washing and the dishes, making the beds, and looking after the kids.”
If the Wife ever finds out that I’ve written this story, I’m a dead man. Just like Cicero (PBUH) and Hammurabi (PBUHAW).
*Cicero (106-43 BC) – in those days, people actually got younger as they aged. Cicero died at the age of -63 years. 63 years before he was born.