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Question: You recently explained girls. Please explain boys.
Answer: Just like with girls, there are lots of commonly-held beliefs about why boys are the way they are, and none have anything to do with the obvious y-chromosome. And yet they’re all bound together by one unifying theory: that boys are scum. Even though this is true, nobody has yet known why. Until now.
Boys are only after one thing: sex.
This is true, but only because boys are consumed by their need to assure successful proliferation of the species. By ‘species,’ I mean ‘humans,’ not ‘boys,’ even though all boys for some reason hope they’ll only have male children, assuring the kid’ll grow up to be just like his bastard father.
But at the heart of it is that genetic code that’s hardwired into boys’ brains: that without proper (and frequent) spreading of their seed, there is a chance—albeit a small one, but a chance nonetheless—that the rabbits may one day take over. If you’ve ever seen their teeth up close then you know they could do it in about three weeks.
So when your husband runs off with some floozy from the express lane at the supermarket, just remember: he’s not doing it for the sex, he’s doing it for us.
Boys will never admit when they’re wrong.
The male ego is a funny animal, especially since it’s hardly an animal and is really just a concept, therefore more easily defeated than most animals. (Even rabbits.)
A typical example: A boy and girl are driving at night to a restaurant in a sketchy part of town. The boy, naturally, is driving, since his superior navigational and leadership skills are what made him who he is today: a supply-chain manager. After turning down a series of poorly lit alleys and backtracking a chain of dead ends, the boy turns down the stereo, sits up straight, and keeps driving, not saying a word. The girl looks over at him and asks, ‘Are you lost?’
‘Why don’t you just stop and ask for directions?’
‘There’s a gas station up there. Let’s pull in.’
‘You just passed it! Why don’t you pull over?’
‘Let’s keep on this way for a bit.’
‘But we’re lost!’
‘No we’re not.’
‘Yes. We. Are.’
‘Okay, we’re lost. You’re right. I really had no idea how to get there from the get-go. I figured we’d just drive around for a while and I’d see something familiar and it’d be fine. I didn’t even bring the address along. Forgive me?’
‘You are such a pussy—I should so start dating a real man. Is your best friend Ben seeing anyone?’
Boys are total commitment-phobes.
Again, boys are absorbed by their true passion for species proliferation. Thus, even though a college-bound boy may get a call in mid-July from his prom date, letting him know that she’s with child, there’s no reason whatsoever to marry! His work is already done. After all, what boy would consider having sex without the ultimate intention of bearing an heir? I mean—come on! Besides, think of all the potential mothers there’ll be at college!
Boys will be boys.
Far too often the male psyche is reduced to a rolling of the eyes and a casual rejection of further analysis. Whenever a boy does something stupid like, say, crash a Corvette through the neighbors’ bay window, anyone who is not a boy (read: girls) will chalk up the behavior to this certain stupid person being a boy. Which of course they always are. Never will anyone dig past the surface action to possibly discover that, yes, it’s a cry for help. Maybe even a cry for a new, faster, redder car.
Boys are made of snakes and snails and puppy-dog tails.
An age-old maxim—a natural couplet to ‘sugar and spice and everything nice’—and completely true. ‘Snakes,’ ‘snails,’ and ‘puppy-dog tails’ are obviously all dead-on phallic symbols. Yes, even the ‘snails,’ if you just kinda think about it anyway. No, there’s no arguing with poetry. Don’t even try it.
The Final Answer
Boys are only trying to get into your pants.