Sunday, 30 October 2011

Gingers- A Guide

We all know at least one. Chances are over our lifetimes we've known several. But how much do we really know about these enigmatic carrot tops?

It's been mentioned to me that I've given the rouge tainted a hard time in other blog posts, hopefully this will set the record straight. Just like the closet racists that read the Daily Mail who have 'black friends' I have ginger friends. In fact I've got a flame haired wife.

So, gingers, they are with us on a daily basis. They can be broadly categorised as follows-

The Male Ginger-

Predominantly speaking there are two types of ginger male, which I have touch on in a previous post.

The first I will refer to as the 'rock star' ginger-

The rock star ginger enjoys life. They are typically popular, and are very charismatic. People are drawn to them like moths. Moths are also probably drawn to them in the dark.

They tend to have self destructive tendencies and are no strangers to pushing their bodies to the limit with drink and drugs.

Famous rock star gingers include-

The second male ginger I will refer to as the 'rock eater' ginger-

The rock eater normally has a brighter shock of red hair than the rock star. They will often have a more pale complexion (if possible). These are generally the gingers that foster large collections of freckles.

It is rare to see the rock eater in normal social settings after the age of 18 or so. This is normally because after the enforced socialising that education brings, the rock eater will retreat to IT departments, and darkened rooms to play Games Workshop products and World of Warcraft.

As a youngster it is likely the rock eater will seem slightly unbalanced and act oddly to attract the attention of his peers. Common behaviour includes eating rocks, litter, and cigarette butts.

The Female Ginger-

Again these can be broadly categorised in two camps.

The pasty, straw haired, cat lover ginger, henceforth referred to as 'cat lover'-

Very much the female equivalent of the rock eater. As with most things, women are better than men in social situations. This means that despite hair colour they are likely to achieve more in life than their male equivalents. They still remain a bit odd though.

Those that do not achieve these heady heights tend to enjoy spending their time avoiding the sun and collecting large menageries of helpless animals. Mainly cats, rabbits, and guinea pigs.

The second camp is the feisty, fiery, slightly dangerous, red head.

The 'red head' is a ginger, however they are referred to as a 'red head' to disassociate themselves from gingers. This is not intentional on their part, but society's. As a way of explaining the widespread attraction to these gingers it is deemed necessary to separate them from the standard ginger stock.

There are many fine examples of red heads, many of which are coveted widely by male society.

Of course this has given rise to the female cult of faux-rouge tops. Women now actively change their natural hair colours to appear red headed. This has yet, and is unlikely, to permeate male society.

So this covers off your basic ginger archetypes. There are further divergences on the above. The first I've already mentioned, the faux-rouge tops. The other is the 'carrier'.

The carrier-

To explain the role of the carrier we need a quick basic genetics lesson. Essentially there are two types of genes, dominant and recessive. The ginger gene is recessive, whereas dark hair is dominant.

This means that for a child to become ginger, the child will need to receive two of the recessive genes from a combination of the parents. Two ginger parents will in 4 out of 4 occasions produce a ginger child. A ginger parent and a parent with a recessive ginger gene will produce a ginger child 1 in 2 times. A ginger parent and a parent without a recessive ginger gene will never produce a ginger child. 2 parents with recessive ginger genes will produce a ginger child 1 in 4 times, without either parent actually being ginger.

The parent with a recessive ginger gene is what i am referring to as the 'carrier'. There is no way of telling if you carry the ginger gene until you have a ginger child. However there are good indicators.

Look at your family. For example my sister has a swanvesta husband, she has a ginger child, therefore she has the recessive gene. This means that one of my parents has the gene, and there is a good chance it has been passed to me. I have one child, and one on the way. My first born dodged the bullet, will the second? The odds are against them. Terrifying isn't it?

The second warning sign is a man's beard. When a man decides to embark on a beard sometimes out of nowhere ginger sprouts occur. Generally the beard will never be seen again, but should be seen as a warning sign, like a flare, that the recessive gene may be harboured.

Remember though that this is all with jest. It's not like I'm doing a South Park.

Further to that I thought it was worth showcasing the following chap on YouTube. He took a real disliking to the aforementioned South Park episode, and has some pretty interesting views in general. Suffice to say I've sent him a link to this post. I think he'd like it.

Sunday, 23 October 2011

Why do men hate shopping? Part 2

So my last post was the basic truth of the above question. I suppose it's only fair to examine the reasons of why it's so boring. On we go-

Shopping Centres-

Unholy out of town shrines to commerce. Everything about them is designed to confuse. No matter how simple the layout may appear to be, the chances of getting lost are close to 100%. This is only applicable to men. Women possess some form of in built radar that allows them to navigate shopping centres at will.

men lost


The amount of parking available at shopping centres usually outweighs the interior space used for shopping. Despite this finding a space during peak periods is a deeply stressful and harrowing experience. Even at the furthest recesses of the car park, you are unlikely to find a space.

Instead you are left to aimlessly drive around at 5mph, becoming increasingly angry at just missing the next space.

Usually your good lady friend will ease this pain by repeating the phrase 'there's one' before realising that it's filled with a new fangled 'micro' car.


Random stoppers, dawdlers, out of control toddlers, window shoppers, gaggles of youths, and kamikaze mothers. All hazards hidden within the sprawling organic mass that is the shopping crowd.

All of the above can bring a man to his knees in despair.

Shop Assistants-

There are two types of shop assistant.

1. Overly helpful life story teller who instantly insists on touching you in over familiar ways.

2. Snooty fashionista's who wonder why the hell you even think any of the stock in their store is vaguely suitable for you.

Price Comparison-

With so many stores selling near identical tat it has now become necessary to traipse to each pap peddler to find the lowest price, or greatest deal.

Should you succeed in convincing your lady friend to just buy 'the fucking shoes', undoubtedly you'll find them cheaper in the last store you visit. It's known as the 'just fucking buy it paradox'.

Changing Rooms-

For a bloke it's unlikely you visit the changing room often, you know your size and generally you're good to go with that. Also we men use a much easier sizing guide of, small, medium, and large.

Women have a complex sizing system that makes absolutely no sense. To facilitate this mind boggling system they must try on all clothes, in multiple, unfathomable, sizes. You as the man must shuffle uncomfortably near the entrance waiting for your other half to parade said items.

Inexplicably meeting friends-

Women talk. Unfortunately this is a universal truth. It is more than likely that you will encounter at least one acquaintance in your local shopping centre.

No matter how tenuous their friendship they will manage to string out an enduring and lengthy conversation, about absolutely dick all. Sometimes this culminates in you being dragged to the nearest coffee shop. Whenever you try to interject with a witty anecdote, or funny joke, you will be stone walled.

That's why men hate shopping. Go on-line.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Why do men hate shopping?

It's fucking boring. Fact.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

The Bell(end) Curve

Everyone likes a drink, right? In fact I used to believe as a younger man that someone who doesn't drink is not to be trusted. To an extent that's still true.

However for various reasons over the last couple of years I've been a non-drinker. This has opened my eyes to a world less often seen. A world where drunks rule, and conversation is not the sparkling battle of witty riposte that the drinker probably thinks it is. It's a world where those that are drunk are often aggressive in a friendly way, or friendly in an aggressive way.

Over this period I've discovered that most nights follow a specific pattern, six particular steps, and most chaps degenerate at a similar rate. So for your delectation, I present, the journey of a night on the pop.

Opening hour- Tentative

Everyone has arrived at the pre-arranged venue and nervously shuffling round the bar playing first round shoot out. Someone twitches, and the deadlock is broken. Drinks are dispersed and everyone gets stuck in.

At this point, unless you're with a group you regularly drink with, most people are a little tentative. Small talk is mundane and people are desperately searching for that first beer buzz.

Graph 1- how a night normally pans out (i'm aware there's a spelling error in the title of the chart)

Hour 2- Relaxed

A couple of beers in and everyone is easing into the night. Smiles are broad and warm, and most jokes, even if misplaced, generate amusement. The feelings are that it could be a good night.

Graph 2- ability to converse through the six stages of a night out

Hour 3- The peak

This is the where all drinkers think there night ends. It's a period where everyone is relaxed enough to be enjoying themselves, and their inhibitions low enough to push certain boundaries without overstepping the mark.

Most drinkers think that this period lasts for the largest proportion of the night. In fact this window is very small due to the careful equilibrium that needs to be achieved by all parties. For the sober onlooker it does not last long enough.

Hour 4- The slippery slope

This is not too dissimilar to the peak, however tell tale signs of wear and tear are creeping in. A slightly louder than usual laugh, a misplaced step, sloshing pints, addition of the word 'fucking' to every sentence, and the emergence of the thousand yard stare, are all signs that the night is about to hurtle down the slippery slope.

Graph 3- The path of inhibitions on a night out

Hour 5- Sloped faces

A stroke is not a funny thing, and nothing to be mocked. That said after a certain period the harder drinkers take on a key symptom of a stroke, the sloped face. When all around you, all you see are half smiles, and half blinked eyes, you're deep into the night surrounded by pissheads who all think they are spouting oral gold. It's more than likely they're just spouting phlegm.

Hour 6- Oblivion

If you're still sober at this point, it's more than likely you're trying to look after a drunk who has all the reasoning capability of a disgruntled four year old.

If you are the drunk this is usually the only other stage you are likely to remember. This is normally because there is either a shock to system, like a multi-coloured yawn, or a reasoning process required, should you sleep in that bush?

Pie charts
Graph 4- A breakdown of a typical chaps thought process throughout a night

To add some additional ideas to the journey of the night I've attempted to break down how a bloke's thought process might go on a typical night. To view properly it might be an idea to download it, or squint. It's worth noting that this isn't everyone. It's definitely not me. Definitely not.

At all.

Just to be clear, not me.

Follow the man blog on Twitter

The Man Blog
on Google+

Online Marketing