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Recent Comments
- In The Mailbox: 02.28.23 (Afternoon Edition) : The Other McCain on Hey, longtime pw readers…
- In The Mailbox: 12.23.22 : The Other McCain on Patrick J. Carroll truly IS a sad, embittered psychopath
- Danger on Patrick J. Carroll might be a psychopath
- Danger on Patrick J. Carroll might be a psychopath
- In The Mailbox: 07.18.22 : The Other McCain on Patrick J. Carroll might be a psychopath
I wear military fatigues (if I don’t I’ll be in trouble for not showing up in uniform) and I own a 350hp HEMI (but my wife won’t let me drive it, I get the 4 banger). Grrr, I’m manly.
I drove through East St. Louis a few weeks back and I’m not a pussy about global warming, nuclear power or trans fats.
Most of the conservative women [aka inauthentic womyn] I know are like me
we’d rather spend our shopping time at Home Depot or Lowes
I like my women white and weak and my coffee black and strong.
I watched City of Angels the other night with my girlfriend and didn’t cry once .
I met Chuck Norris in person years ago … I pretty much absorbed all his manliness by osmosis… I’ve been adding to it since then.
When I go camping, I don’t bring any gear. Give me two sticks and I can knit anything I need from my own ass hair.
I own two — not one, but two — pairs of lock-grip pliers. And I know how to use them.
I didn’t think you could show your manly bona fides on the internets. Are you trying to trick us?
They’re ten-inch, by the way. Size does matter.
Nor are they the GAY PORN VISE GRIPS OF LIES.
I’m comfortable with my masculinity. Which is really pretty unfortunate.
I once read Hemingway and reloaded spent .500 shells with hot loads while sexing my wife, but thinking about Keira Knightly wearing nothing but a leather jacket and riding chaps and cruising down the road on a Harley Davidson XLR1000 Sportster. And I was drunk at the time, and bruised from a recent wrestling match with two Black bears.
Yeah; deal with it. I’m going to go punch someone in the face, and think about new ways to avoid expression of affection.
Punching people in the face IS how manly men express affection… Duh…
I lack a Y chromosome, but here goes:
• I won’t own a car unless it’s stick-shift.
• I once asked for, and got, a tool box for my birthday.
• When the plastic-core radiator on my beater car began to leak madly, I went to a junkyard, got a new one, and installed it myself (but I kept going back into the house every five minutes to wash the icky grease off my hands).
• I would rather shop at Home Depot than at a shoe store. (Hi Darleen!)
• I haven’t made my bed in ten years.
• I enjoy wearing broomstick skirts and burning Patchouli incense (er…).
You got nothin’, dicentra.
I own power tools.
Hey, I’ve got a cordless drill. Whaddya want?
I once swapped hand-lotion tips with a grizzly biker dude. He prefered Jergens to Nivea ’cause it was less greasy and didn’t affect his clutch control.
Reciprocating saw?
” • I haven’t made my bed in ten years. ”
You’re in .
I only add tap water to my scotch and water. None of that bottled crap.
Farting. Rules.
Reciprocating saw?
Um, no. A hammer, some screwdrivers, tin snips, wire cutter, wire stripper, needle-nosed pliers, regular pliers, a level, and Robo-Grip to twist things off. Nothing fun or impressive.
My bidet is an elephant’s skull with an oxy-gasoline torch head sticking out of it.
If it itches , I scratch it .
It was the Robo-Grip that gave you away ;)
ooo.. Diana… I want one of those!
I admit, I don’t know how to fix a car, but I love yard work.
dicentra
When hubby and I moved into our home six months ago (a fixer upper) my sister gave me a Home Depot gift card… Best Gift ever!!!
I’ve painted the interior (25 ft walls and ceiling in livingroom), done major landscape cleanup, hung window blinds, installed floating shelves, refinished furniture, tiled kitchen floor.
I do leave the electrical stuff to hubby … that stuff startles me.
cjd
tap water into scotch??? Pffftt….
I add more booze (Drambuie)
I wear Crocs and tend bar for sorority parties….what was the question again?
Hood (that’s his nickname) isn’t afraid to show his feminine side.
No .. no .. no … I want a reciprocating saw.
I do leave the electrical stuff to hubby … that stuff startles me.
It should: the more I read about electricity, the less I believe in it. That stuff’s like black magic. Same with networking protocols. There’s no way that stuff works the way they say it does.
If I don’t kill it myself, I won’t eat it. Unless it’s Tuesday, then I’ll eat at the free buffett at The Porch Swing chrome shop and titty bar off of I-65.
And even though it’s free, I still tip the waitress.
Last Tuesdsay it was the dartk-haired girl in the gold bikini bottoms with the bad tat and the dog bite, dude, she was so into me. I waited all night to drive her home, but her brother came and picked her up. But she said he was almost out of gas so I lent her fifty. I wouldn’t want any young girl out there stuck on the side of the road.
Wednesday night at services the sermon was all about doing nice shit like that.
Gardening? I love gardening. Hence my handle.
I have one of those little Mantis tillers. Lightweight but tough. Tears up sod like nobody’s business. I’d do more yard work but some idiopathic fatigue the last few years has put the kibosh on that. I’m now in the process of building my own water feature (pot, pump, rocks), but it keeps leaking.
When I sleep, I dream about cars.
…. add more booze??? Pffft
I drink it straight, right from the bottle…
That stuff’s like black magic. Same with networking protocols.
Ha!! Hubby is an IT Mgr/network engineer (years ago fixed keyboards and synthisizers) … someone’s tech is another’s magic..and I leave that wizardliness to him!
Underwear is grossly underrated.
I also understand that sometimes you have to reach down, and – ahem – rearrange the furniture. Not necessarily for comfort, but to make sure nothing gets twisted.
I coiffed a man in Memphis just to watch him dry.
When nearly half the posts about manliness bona fides are by a trio of broads one has to wonder about the manliness quotient of the whole site. Cockocracy indeed. And that’s right, I said “broads”. That’s my boner fide right there
I sent my wife and daughter to Florida on vacation couple years ago, and rebuilt my boat’s carburetor on the kitchen table…ahh, the smell of gasoline and pizza, can’t beat it!
One word:
duct tape
Well, commander0 … this “broad”‘s just a pussy.
I drive an F250 with grass clippings and an empty gas can in the back. But then again I’m probably just compensating for having to survive in Texas with a mere 8.5″, gorgeously cut, cock of lies.
I’ve been scarred for life by the sight of Robert Deniro in drag.
I’m so manly when I get lost I won’t ask for directions even from my own GPS.
In recent legal news, DNA testing demonstrated that only three out of the original twelve petitioners were found to be the children of the late singer James Brown. UPDATE: It turns out I fathered the other nine.
It’s manly to protect our precious language.
I’m efforting a reply as we speak.
I need help to move the smaller tool box that hides the safe where my cannon powder is stored.
Does that count?
“Does that count?”
Depends. Was the “help” an engine puller, block and tackle, Johnson bar or a come-along?
Heh. Johnson bar.
Tools. Lotsa tools. And skidmarks.
Manly bona fides – I find projects to do in our abode just so I can buy new power tools. I let a dutch oven fart in bed last night that almost made my better half sick to her stomach. I own a vintage ’69 FLH, fully restored by myself, and a 2003 Springer. I would rather sleep with Tiger Woods than golf with my wife. I love to eat dead animals, rare, and any dead animal can be made better with bacon. I only own one gun, but it is a big game long rifle that has killed a 900 lb caribou at 800 yards.
it is a big game long rifle that has killed a 900 lb caribou at 800 yards.
Guns don’t kill caribou. People (manly men, mostly) kill caribou.
ef – Touche’. I pulled the trigger, and it did all the rest. Good eating, freshly killed caribou.
I don’t have time for “Manly Bona Fides;” I’m too busy building the extension shed onto the back of the barn.
I occasionally quote Kipling.
OH, if I can stop laughing long enough to type this – THANK YOU! All of you commentors!
I occasionally quote Kipling.
I don’t know about that, but I’ve Kipled a few times.
But I didn’t tell you that….
Last night at a waterfront bar I ass-tamped a shit-faced college twink so hard his head cracked the urinal.
What?
Ha! I’ve taken a cab through East St. Louis.
commander0
this “broad” is a dame
and you will smile and grovel a bit when you say it
I’m a lot more “broad” than I was a decade ago, so I guess the shoe fits.
I laughed when they shot Ol’ Yeller.
I’m the one who told Shane he’d better get out of town.
But I have to hire specialists to refill the windshield washer fluid reservoir.
My doll is as dainty as a sparrow,
Her figure is somethin’ to applaud.
Where she’s narrow she’s as narrow an arrow,
And she’s broad where a broad should be broad.
This guy is a little too enthusiastic about asserting his manly bona fides I think.
I watched the U.S. Open down in my man cave from the first tee off to the last putt without getting up. I taped a hose to the end of my schwartzendruber and snaked it into the sump. I ate chicken wings for breakfast lunch and dinner and didn’t take a poop until Sunday night. I was also man enough to fix the toilet Monday.
Once , on a dare , I asked for a price check on a box of tampons .
I have a cock the size of a Pringles can, I make lots of money and I can beat your ass with one hand.
The Lays Stax can is a better design because it’s the same oval shape as those golden crispy chips (voted best tasting chip in 2005)
………oh, and I took my own appendix out while I was getting ready to pull back on a Boone and Crockett buck. I flintknapped the scalpel.
I can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run. But it *is* kind of hot out.
So shoe-shopping and Jane Austen movies it is.
I own, and can use:
Metal lathe with milling attachment
Abrasive saw
Metal-cutting bandsaw
Oxy-acetylene torch (wish I had a MIG welder — maybe next year)
Other tools for metal work (taps, dies, micrometers, etc.)
Reciprocating saw
Table saw
Drill press
Router (wood-cutting type, also have a couple of networking routers, of course)
Tools and instruments for electrical and electronic work.
Tools and instruments for plumbing work.
But my most manly moment? Extracting a stuck contraceptive sponge from my wife using a pair of hemostats, my fingers, and a Maglite. I was definitely The Man in her book after that.
dicentra — yeah, those little Mantis tillers are great. I had my doubts about whether it would actually cut through sod, but it does.
happyfeet – can you imagine that guy’s grocery bills?
Bill D. Cat – Kudos. I could not do that.
Al – I have done that for the Masters and Ryder Cup, entering my theatre at the start, and not emerging until the conclusion. It is generally followed with a long “Dumb ass man – do” list, which is not so bad, because it usually requires the purchase of a new power tool to complete the list. Most recently, a Senco air compressor, and nail gun. Sweet!
Spies – I asked for a MIG welder for Christmas, and everyone thought I was kidding. I got it for my birthday the next year, and despite having turned it on a few times, I have never used it, since I have no clue how to. The angle grinder and chainsaw for Christmas one year was sweet too.
I’m so manly my manly bona fides are registered weapons in fourteen states and the District of Columbia.
Bona Fides??? We Don’t Need No Steekin’ Bona Fides!!!!!
dicentra on 8/25
It should: the more I read about electricity, the less I believe in it. That stuff’s like black magic
Darling, electickle is easy – work with one hand and play pocket pool with the other
dicentra and pete – I used to be fairly comfortable toying around with electricity, generally just basic electric boxes, switches, etc … I got a bit overconfident, and figured I could try to hard wire our 60″ gas/electric range and dual fuel ovens, which required a 220V. I managed to shock myself, and managed to survive, though I still have the occassional tic, and unexplained Tourrette’s-like outbursts. Regular outlets sting a bit, surprise you, and generally just remind you that you did something wrong while doing live wire tricks. 220 volts hurts. The only kind of pain that I could imagine would be comparable would be to try to stretch your urethra over a garbage can lid.
JR- my respect came from a 700v tube transmitter – following the above maxim – two in an afternoon and a nap is a good idea. Line current – THE BREAKER AND THE VOM are your friend, but still ONE HAND
pete – 700V would have to kill me. 220V made me sit there, black out for a bit, and come to in the midst of some pretty hysterical, yet painful, muscle spasms.
I got married in a pink shirt and black cowboy boots.
I once killed a 5 ft. black snake with my hands, cooked it over a fire, and ate it.
Ole Yeller made me cry.
Real men can wear pink.
My manly-man bona fides are illegal in 37 states!
But out manly-manning all of us is this guy from Alberta. A real manly-man
Oh h/t to ‘Small Dead Animals’ for the real manly man story.
Whooo-oop! I’m the old original hybrid-driving, Chomsky-reading, non-bedwetting, metrosexual latte-maker from the wilds of Ann Arbor! Look at me! I’m the man they call Frank Sensitivity and Unapologetic Masculinity! Sired by a Michael Moore flick, dam’d by a faculty petition of the same gender as the Michael Moore flick, half-brother to the Bolivarist Revolution, nearly related to Greenpeace on the mother’s side! Look at me! I need no NFL Today, for I can play both the Bears and the Steelers all by myself, and beat the spread both ways! I don’t even own a TV! Whooo-oop! I get more looks from women in my used Honda Insight than any 10 men in BMWs, and I’ve cowed the toilet seat into lowering itself even if I forget! Stand back, one and all, for I feel my powers a-workin’!
I once shot an elephant in my pajamas…
Nancy Pelosi pays to sit in my lap.
By the hour and by the inch.
Comment by dicentra on 8/25 @ 1:19 pm #
Hey, I’ve got a cordless drill. Whaddya want?
Sign up for the revolution, dicentra.
Cordless drills are the weapon of choice.
You’d fit right in with AQinI
this “broad†is a dame,/i>
Darleen you are NOT a dame. I won’t say what it is that you really are. Fantasy rings a bell. . .
and you will smile and grovel a bit when you say it
Nice. BDSM language. I hear that works with detainess — American and other.
I eat crackers in bed and drops the crumbs on the sheet on purpose.
Comment by Jeff G. on 8/7 @ 3:59 pm #
Where’s incontrolados now?
Where you at?
Drunkblogging again Michelle?
“incontrol”
Is that you, Chips?
Gads, what a unrequited girl-crush you have on Sparkle. Did you finally get kicked out of teaching (thank god … it’ll save some kids) so you have to spend your time stalking Sparkle?
I once asked for directions only once in my life….in East St Louis.
but the most manly and dangerous thing I have ever done was buying my wife a vacuum for Christmas.
hey she asked for it lol
I didn’t buy the Manly Manual……..I wrote it!
kicked the dog because I was bored. used a barstool in a bar fight. kept swearing at (and struggling with) the cops even though I was hog-tied (the neighbors were watching and all). once drove back from work on empty, daring fate the entire while. started 14 home improvement projects in 2006… haven’t finished any of them (and wife can’t make me).
Bet they didn’t pull their guns on you, like a sheriff’s deputy did on me once.
Good times.
That hurt, man.
I killed a vole once.
I still remember the blood-curdling roar as he charged.
I ordered Colonel Jessup to order the Code Red.
When Kaffey asked me whether I ordered the Code Red, I told him that he couldn’t handle the truth.
He agreed, and apologized for wasting my time.
The only aspect of my wedding that I had anything to do with was the time. I refused to get married until after the end of the Notre Dame vs. Michigan football game.
I also tried desperately to get my bride to spend her honeymoon at the Ryder Cup in Brookline, MA. That did not turn out so well.
Spies – I asked for a MIG welder for Christmas, and everyone thought I was kidding. I got it for my birthday the next year, and despite having turned it on a few times, I have never used it, since I have no clue how to.
Your local CC or tech school has classes for that. Take one. I thought I was a pretty hot-shot welder ’till I took a Tig welding class at our local CC. You’ll be amazed at what you see that needs to be welded.
Spies, Brigands, and Pirates
Add to the list;
HF gear head milling machine
micro mill
miller synchrowave 250 Tig
hobart 135 mig
I need a bigger garage.
I drove a ’95 Chevy Blazer up Mount Washington without using four-wheel drive. I installed a sump pump and wrestled with the pipes when the duct tape burst. During a thunder storm. I stood on a picnic table while a black bear wandered through our camp in Alaska. I own a multimeter and know how to use it. And I’m pretty sure I understand the OSI model. And thinking about networking makes me grunt. (Sorry, got to adjust the boys now.)
I owned a ’69 Ford F250, which I kept repaired with duct tape and baling wire. Once, I noticed that the rear brakes weren’t working AT ALL (which is most inconvenient when you’re, for the couple-dozenth time, exceeding load capacity by hauling a ton of horseshit in the bed). So I FIXED them.
Sure, you say: piece of cake. But this particular F250 had the HD rear end, which meant that in order to remove the rear drums, you had to undo some nuts that were torqued in at roughly a million inch-ounces, and then whang the hell out of the housing around where the nuts were with a hammer until it loosened up. Then, you slid the axle half-shaft out, and removed the drum from the end of it. From there on, it’s only about $25 worth of parts, but to get to that point takes quite a bit of asking retired mechanics how the hell you did that.
I’ve also pulled a tree over with a Honda Accord, which is one of the better uses a Honda Accord can be put to. Had to notch it rather drastically with a chainsaw first, but that’s Japanese cars for ya.
Oh, and I hot-rodded an old Volvo, just because I COULD. Take THAT, liberals!
Oh, and per Rusty’s comment above, I want me a plasma cutter. I think I could never run out of things that need to be converted from one piece to two.
Rusty: Same here, no space for a milling machine (or anything else new, really). When we were house shopping several years ago I tried to convince the wife that we could be very comfortable in a 15,000 sq. ft. heated shop on an acre of land (“No, really! I’ll just put up some interior walls and you won’t be able to tell that ‘your part’ isn’t a regular house!”). No luck.
Slartibartfast: A plasma cutter to take ’em apart, a MIG welder to put ’em back together. What more do you need?
Cowboy, you don’t tell a real man that he’s wearing pink, you call it “a salmon shirt”.
Which reminds me of an uncle of mine who made a different sort of “salmon shirt” by dipping a frozen salmon in ink and pressing it on to the shirt.
What happened to the captcha?
“Comment by Jonathan on 8/26 @ 9:57 am #
And I’m pretty sure I understand the OSI model”
[mouth gapes open in wonder!]
The thing to remember with electricity is that it’s a circuit. Consider and apply the implications of that, remember Ohm’s law, and it’s easy.
Comment by guinsPen on 8/25 @ 8:43 pm
I once shot an elephant in my pajamas…
You beat me. The worst I’ve shot in my pajamas was a bobcat… and I cheated and used a 12ga, out of consideration for the neighbors. I did manage to get 4 raccoons in one night with a .22 single shot firing shorts (in my pajamas). Matter of fact, most of the critters I’ve shot were in my pajamas… I wonder what Freud would have said.
Totally off topic, but quite humorous. I was playing golf tonight at http://www.purgatorygolf.com, and my playing partner in the tournament literally SHARTED mid-swing. I laughed so hard I almost threw up. He had the most hysterical skid mark for the last 12 holes. It made it very difficult to concentrate.
roy – Freud would have called you a queer, but then again, I think that he could turn just about anything into teh ghey, if he so chose. Kind of like how the Left is trying to re-define masculinity.
Comment by JD on 8/26 @ 7:29 pm #
roy – Freud would have called you a queer
Well, I’ve been accused of having a queer sense of humor (among other descriptions of it); and as I’ve gotten older (or just old) I’ve been accused of have queer ideas (honor, duty, etc); but my masculinity has never been questioned (not that I particularly care what people think any more – my wife knows and after 36 yrs of marriage, she’s the only one that it is of any importance to).
I guess sometimes a man in pajamas with a gun is just an asshole you don’t want to screw with, be he masculine or queer.
Roy – I was in no way implying that you were teh ghey. Anyone who wanders around in their PJ’s with a shotgun should be afforded the appropriate respect, and stay the hell out of the range of that 12 guage.
Now, I just learned a fool-proof test of masculinity. A real man is physically and mentally incapable of not laughing at someone who sharts himself. Also, only a real man can shoot -2 with a shit stain on his ass.
Manly bona-fides? Well, I once carried a table made out of 2×4’s and a 4′ by 8′ sheet of 3/4″ plywood about 6 city blocks on my back. And I can make a smiley face on a human silhouette target over iron sights at 100 yards. And I drive an 18-wheeler, and truckers are ALL manly.
Except for the ones who drive in skirts. (No shit, I actually saw a driver get out of his rig once in a skirt. No not a kilt, that would have been manly, a frilly skirt.)
The ability to wear a kilt is another obvious sign.
I bought a pair of heart-shaped pink earrings, the kind that go on with magnets so it looks like your ears are pierced, and wore them at the Fourth of July barbecue with my neighbors.
JD, I didn’t think you were (as though it really matters what either of us say about this subject).
I once cut two holes in my scrotum and stretched it over my head and robbed a liquor store. I’m not proud of it, but it was muis macho!
…..not really.
GuinsPen, was it an elephant in your pajamas, or just his trunk?
I’m a RF engineer, I have an 11,000 sq ft microwave. My antenna is over 5 ft long (no really)(and that’s just one of them.) Electricity is easy; 220V isn’t too bad, 480V will knock you to the ground.
I drive a Jeep and the only reason that it’s not covered in mud is that it rained recently and washed the mud off; I haven’t had time to play recently to build up a new coat (some of my less manly friends tell me to grow up.)
Freud’s psychology says a lot more about Freud himself than it does about human beings in general.
Just sayin’.
“#Comment by JD on 8/26 @ 9:39 pm #
The ability to wear a kilt is another obvious sign.”
Yeah, the German landswehr during WWI called the Scots “Ladies from Hell”.
Pussies.
Oh, almost forgot electricity. I learned to respect it more after acquiring a high-power electronic flash unit called an Ultrablitz (I am not making this up). I took it apart, as I did with pretty much everything not drawing a breath in those days, and at one point in the process, my entire body locked up. Belatedly, when I regained control of a few muscles, I hurled the thing across the room. See, I was looking for the battery; not knowing that that big, glass-encased thing that was easy to get to was the battery.
I was about 11 years old; that was my introduction to Big Capacitors.
(Guards on Hadrian’s Wall)
“Jupiter’s scrotum! That was the ugliest, smelliest, hairiest and most foul-tempered (not to mention heavily armed) group of cut-throats I ever laid eyes on!
“Ah, that’s nothing. Wait till midnight, that’s when the men go home.”
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