FCN BC08: F - A Mandate for Progress

The polls are closed, and F has won a landslide victory over the field.

The actual percentages are confusing and might mislead you into thinking F wasn't winning the whole time. It might even suggest the election was close! This is, of course, untrue. Here's a simple breakdown of the poll results:

F: 1
EVERYONE ELSE: 0

This affirmation of F's posting style and leadership spells great days ahead for FCN. In the next board meeting, F will not answer to the usual titles (like "F" or "Dude"). Now, he will answer only to deferential titles (like "Victorious Victor" or "Most Superiorly Excellent Poster" or "The People's Choice"). F's opinion is infinitely more important than that of the losers who didn't get as many votes as he did.

Naturally, F isn't letting the victory go to his head. In fact, he's being incredibly gracious about it. He even announced in an internal email that he will adress his fellow contributors as equals even though they are clearly inferior to him. He could really rub this in their faces, but he's not. Just goes to show what a great guy F is.

It's a new year, under the affirmed leadership of a man who was once kicked off the blog. How have the mighty fallen in the midst of war! Who's laughing now? F is, that's who.

Booya.

- An Impartial Third Party Commentator

FCN BC08 - Ana: Music Explains It All

Several years ago, I was completely lost when it came to understanding the opposite sex. If I mind my own business, I thought, guys won't bother me and I'll be able to finish school without distractions. But I was wrong.

The first time I was ever "hit on," it was by a young man who, let's just say, is a few fries short of a happy meal. Looking back, I should have answered differently when the first question he asked was "do you have a boyfriend?" but I was so caught off guard that I straightforwardly answered "no." After enduring 10 minutes of being asked out in a variety of ways via questions about my religion ("no, I'm not Baptist...Actually, no, our beliefs are not similar"), schedule ("I already have a group of people I hang out with on Wednesdays....and every other night of the week" - I figured my family of 8 counted as a group of people), school, and work ("I'm very busy, I don't really have time for anything else"), etc., I realized hints were not going to work.

Desperate, I told him he'd have to talk to my dad if he wanted to go out with me. When he replied that he knew my dad, that my dad likes him, and that he thought my dad would be fine with it, I was very blunt. "Actually, I don't think my dad would approve." After the young man had the gall to contradict me, I realized it was a hopeless case and gave up, praying that my brothers, for whom I was waiting, would hurry up and finish their job. Thankfully, they came to the car soon afterward and I left with hardly a goodbye.

On the way home, I was lamenting to my brothers that the first time I was ever hit on, it was by a young man "not firing on all cylinders," if you catch my drift. Ever eager to give comfort, my youngest brother said from the backseat, "Well, he must have been desperate." Men are such good sympathizers. Not.

Anyways, to return to the purpose of this post, I no longer have a problem understanding guys. Thanks to the music I listen to on the radio, which I discovered a few years ago, men are now an open book to me. Using popular songs for inspiration, I have created "Ana's Lyrical Guide to the Opposite Sex," which I present below for your edification.

1. Relationships
"The way you walk, the way you move...girl, there ain't nothing about you, that don't do something to me."
Translation: Men notice the physical. It doesn't matter if you're the sweetest girl in the world, if you don't have the looks, the guys aren't going to like you.

"He is sensible and so incredible...I couldn't ask for anything better...but I miss screaming and fighting and...you're so in love that you act insane."
Translation: Women may say they want a perfect gentleman, but they really don't. In fact, they don't even know what they want, but they rarely want what they have, even if they know it's "incredible."

2. Breakups
"What hurts the most was being so close and having so much to say and watching you walk away."
Translation 1: Just because a man doesn't say he loves you doesn't mean he doesn't love you; you just need to not sit so close to him so he's not distracted and can say what's in his heart.
Translation 2: Men don't like to talk, but their biggest regret after a break-up is that they didn't talk more.

"I'm still living with your goodbye, and you're just going on with your life. How could you just walk on by without one tear in your eye?"
Translation: It takes a woman a long time to get over a breakup, and if you get over it before she does, she'll resent you to the day she dies.

3. Cheating
"I didn't want to know the truth, I'd rather go on lovin' blind, girl, than go on lovin' without you; I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then."
Translation: What a man doesn't know, won't hurt him. He'd rather not know that you cheated on him than break up with you.

"I dug my keys into the side of his pretty little souped-up four wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats."
Translation: Shakespeare said it centuries ago: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Well, there you have it. I hope this clears things up for you as you head into 2009 and the uncharted territory that is every relationship.

FCN BCO8 - Jessica: Grin and Bear It

The National Institute for Gender Equality and Representation has commissioned a book of re-written nursery rhymes and popular children’s books that would reverse the gender of prominent characters. This book is intended to give boys and girls a chance to appreciate each other by showing how a person of the opposite gender would have handled certain modern situations while also giving both genders a chance to shine. Proposed titles would include, Goldiknocks: the Boy Who Killed the Three Bears, Curious Georgia, and Gary Had a Little Lamb. Below are excerpts from the press release that included theoretical synopses of these re-written classics.

Goldiknocks: the Boy Who Killed the Three Bears

Goldiknocks, who earned his name with an infamous set of brass knuckles, spots a family of bears who have taken up residence in the woods near his home. One day, while the bears are taking a walk while they wait for their porridge to cool, Goldiknocks arms himself with a heavy-duty assault weapon and sneaks into the bears' house. While he waits for the impending massacre, he eats the bears' porridge and chops up their chairs for firewood. He then jumps on their beds and hides in the closet. When the bears return home, they realize that things are not the way they left them. Goldiknocks takes advantage of their confusion and guns them down with an M16. Then he invites his friends to a bear stew supper to celebrate the victory for human ownership of the woods. PETA is informed of his cruelty to animals, and he spends the rest of his childhood in juvenile detention.

Curious Georgia

Georgia is a curious little monkey who can't keep her mouth shut. She noses into peoples' affairs and gives them unwanted advice. One day, she asks a turbaned terrorist what he does for a living. In a fit of rage, he locks her in a cage and keeps her in a dark, dank, top-secret meeting tent. She manages to listen in on many important terrorist conferences, and with the help of an unnaturally keen memory, is able to remember every detail of these meetings. After months in captivity, Georgia uses her feminine wiles to charm her way into the heart of one weak-hearted terrorist. In a daring escape, her patsy terrorist releases her, and she is able to steal important terrorist records. She takes her findings to the US Army, who are able to capture and convict the terrorists. Hailed as a hero, Georgia appears on Oprah, The View, Saturday Night Live, and Maury. The President appoints Georgia the monkey to be an ambassador for PETA.

Gary Had a Little Lamb

When Gary's school partners with the USDA and the local 4-H chapter, Gary is put in charge of a lamb. His job is to care for the lamb and write a report about his experiences. Unfortunately, the lamb causes a lot of problems for Gary. The lamb sneaks into school by hiding in Gary's backpack. Gary gets sent to the principal's office where he gets expelled for breaking the school's "No animals on school property" rule. In a daring attempt to wow his teacher and be re-enrolled in school, Gary decides to use the lamb in useful ways. He shears the lamb’s wool and uses it to knit socks for homeless people. He takes the lamb to his local juvenile detention rehab ward and lets the inmates play with him. This method proves to be quite therapeutic, especially for a young lad named Goldiknocks, who is soon released on good behavior. After the school board hears of Gary's valiant community service, Gary is re-enrolled in the school and is also asked to teach a girls' knitting class.

The focus groups that were tested have produced intriguing results. One boy said, "It makes me want to go kill some bears! Bears are ferocious flesh eaters!" Later, he and several of the male readers were witnessed wrestling in the parking lot, taking turns being bears or humans. A few girl readers screamed or cried during key parts of the stories. The most emotional girl blubbered, "I've always wanted to meet Joy Behar! Curious Georgia inspired me to get out there and charm some terrorists! (scream) But Those poor bears! Why did Goldiknocks kill poor innocent bears? I love bears. They're so cute."

FCN BC08 - Chip: An Action Movie Flop

Have you ever noticed that life is sort of like an action movie? Reach back into your memory and see what you can pull out. Chances are, you don't remember what you had for dinner two days ago, how you spent those fifteen straight hours on the web, or exactly when your supersize case of Red Bull reached the last can, necessitating the fight you are (i.e. I am) currently waging over who gets to drink it. No, you don't remember those things, but you do remember other things very vividly. You remember when you jumped into the swimming pool and hit your chin on the side, crimsoning the water with your manly blood. You remember—this in slow motion—when you ran a red light at 120 mph and glimpsed a camera on the traffic light as you passed. You remember what a moron you felt like when you had to plead guilty to that in court.

Anyway, my point is that memory has the boring parts edited out, which of course means that memory is a decidedly masculine skill. If I lived the life of my female counterparts, would I remember anything, or would all my life be left on the cutting floor? Just a thought.

One moment that was never, and will never be left on the cutting floor is the moment that a woman drove up to my house in desperate need of help. A damsel in distress, if you will.

I still remember the fateful day. It was a warm August afternoon, and the birds were singing, harbingers to the approaching events. I learned later that they were just being sarcastic, but at the time I actually thought they were happy. I was lounging on the porch, reading poetry.

Suddenly, the hideous grinding sound of steel on asphalt interrupted the birds, who rolled their eyes and flapped away. I almost did the same, until I noticed that the hideous noise had stopped in front of my lawn and that a driver of the fair sex was opening her door with the evident intention of approaching me. I hid my poetry under the porch and waited expectantly, trying to look buff and confident and knowledgeable but woefully aware of my helpless situation.

I said earlier that life is like an action movie. I should add a caveat. In an action movie, the damsel in distress always finds a hero who can solve all her problems. In real life, she has to be content with whatever the fates give her. Gentle (i.e. female) readers, you know this.

I stood up and shook hands with the Damsel, whom I shall henceforward call D. She said she was having trouble with her car. I told her I was glad, because it sounded like a hurricane and hurricanes are hard to fix. But cars are easy, I said. So easy that anyone could do it. She smiled at me, admiringly. I smiled back, nervously.

"So, um, do you need some tools or anything?" I asked. "What seems to be the problem?"

The girl just smiled again. I think she had taken some sarcasm lessons from the birds; I could see it in her eyes. But she was very sweet and polite. "I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me."

"Of course I can," I replied, and sauntered towards the car. (I am not good at sauntering in general, but this was one occasion that called for it.) "From the sound of it, D, I think you've got some structural problems. Probably more than mechanical but less than aesthetic. Or vice versa."

I walked around the car to open the hood and then thought better of it. Sometimes, to open a hood, you need to lift a little latch in the front of the car and it is hard to find. So instead, I threw myself down on the pavement and crawled underneath the vehicle. She couldn't see what I was doing down there. I peered around at all the black metal stuff, and reached my hands up into some of it so they would look greasy. Then I rolled up my sleeves. When I had been there long enough to arouse curiosity, I rolled out with a grimace.

"So, do you know what it is?"

I licked my lips and wiped my arm across my forehead, smearing the grease and the perspiration together quite picturesquely. "Just about. One more minute and I'll have it. You see, this part is... but no need to go into details." I dove under again.

This time I hit my head on a big slab of sharp metal. Disappointingly, it didn't draw blood. But in a strange turn of fortune, an idea entered my brain. That metal was part of the rear bumper, which had partially fallen off. There was no way to really fix it without a welding set or a screwdriver or some such drastic measure, but I knew the next best thing, and headed for the garage. D followed me with a quizzical look. I didn't know what to say, so I grunted and it seemed to work just as well. In the garage was a roll of duct tape, which I applied to the bumper-metal-piece-thingy until it was high enough above the pavement that the hurricane noises were avoided.

I then invited D inside for a drink, but she politely declined. Apparently, she didn't like Red Bull. Or maybe she just didn't want to share the last one with me. It doesn't really matter anyway. All I know is that as I rolled down my sleeves and watched the silent car speeding away, the birds started singing again. And this time, I knew what they meant.

FCN BC08 - N: "i like you"

I received a text message from an anonymous sender. It made it's point simply:

"i like you"

An acute sense of joy swept through my gizzard. Yes sir, somewhere out there in the big, cellular world, someone, who hopefully was a girl, liked me.

So I quickly replied with an equally short message:

"thanks who is this"

I figure I'll do the whole "I-am-too-cool-to-care-what-anyone-thinks-so-will-just-nod-in-your-general-direction-to-let-you-know-I-have-noticed-you" thing. That's what tough guys do, isn't it? You care by not caring. Yeah.

After a few minutes I received a reply:

"haha this is michelle jk itz a jok"

Oh.

But at least Michelle cared enough to play a prank on me. She must like me a tiny bit. Maybe a tad? Who is Michelle? And what's with the z anyway?

And frankly, I can't afford to let something like this bother me. It takes a lot to get girls to like you. Yes sir, good ol' fashioned work. True, I don't get why she thinks tricking me is funny. Maybe if I pretend like I don't care, she will like me more. So I'll do the whole "I-am-too-jock-to-care-what-anyone-thinks-so-will-just-nod-in-your-general-direction-to-let-you-know-I-have-noticed-you" thing. I can be a good sport. Literally.

"lol np"

Sent. So I sit and wait. I'm not sure what I hope she will say. But maybe it will make me feel better. Besides, if she actually replies, that means she actually cares enough to send me three messages out of her 850 texts a day. Not including replies.

So eventually my phone buzzes.

"ya my friendz took my phn"

My phone buzzes again. Apparently it's the second half of the message.

"they sent you that msg srry ttyl"

It's bad to find out a love text is actually a joke on you. It's even worse to realize the wasted minute count paid by yours truly is a prank on someone else. Yes sir, life is tough.

Seriously, I should feel sorry for myself. Besides, doing the whole "I-am-too-emo-to-care-what-anyone-thinks-so-will-just-nod-in-your-general-direction-to-let-you-know-I-have-noticed-you" thing is amazingly self-gratifying. Self-pity is all the rage. And everyone knows chicks dig emo guys.

FCN BC08 - C: Menu

Have you ever been to a restaurant with a member of the fair sex? I am asking this question, of course, to our male readers because most, if not all, of the female members of the faithful few have been to a restaurant. I know this because I took them there and paid the bill. That makes me a successful male - because I took many females to several restaurants and paid the bill. The fact that I have never been able to sustain several successive restaurant visits with one particular person or pay any bill that exceeds $15.00 is not relevant. The McDonalds in Wal-Mart can be a classy date. So can the one in Target.

As a guy, I know how to order food efficiently. Before going into the restaurant, I think about what I want to eat. With that image firmly pressed into my mind, I look at the menu and look for the thing that most closely approximates it. Then I order it, unless I see a cow-based product like hamburger, beef or steak, in which case I order that. It is almost always the case that the food image I have in my mind is a cow-based product, but if it isn't (maybe I had hamburger every day for the last month), the image of the cow meat will enter my head and push out whatever else I was thinking of. Sometimes the cow meat will push out the other image even when I have eaten hamburger every day for the last month. Maybe that's why I end up eating so much hamburger...

If there are several cow-based products on the menu, ties are broken by price. I will always choose the cheaper item. Once I tried to impress a date by purchasing the more expensive cow-based food product. It broke the bank and I had to ask her to cover the tip. Very tacky. Now I always order from the cheap side.

My menu analyzing skills can be applied very quickly. I can go from "hi how are you?" to "that'll be out in five minutes" in a jiffy. And the speed gives me extra time to ogle the waitress.

Females approach the menu with the concern of a mother bear and the intensity of a broken light bulb. They are very concerned about getting the order right, but don't invest the appropriate energy to achieve that end. They think that the meal they are about to order will set the foundation for their afternoon and that if their afternoon goes poorly they may never get out of the rut and will have bad days for the rest of their lives. Ordering the stir fry may upset the careful balance of their lives and render them culinarily destitute -- a situation analogous to an unsolvable bad hair day in your stomach. Imagine that for perpetuity -- a period of time that has no end -- and most females might as well be at the altar beneath an arbor as in front of a menu.

Women are concerned about fat content, how the order will appear to their date, cost, aesthetics and taste - in that order.

The fat content needs to be low in order to impress all the other women of the female's nutrition consciousness. No other measures of nutrition matter.

The food needs to appear reasonable and feminine to the date. If a woman orders the 12 oz. Sirloin while the guy gets the 8 oz. Boubon Street, the female has out manned the man. Not good. Most men see this as an afront to their masculinity and will be pressured into order progressively more expensive menu items. This makes the man uncomfortable and increases the odds that the woman will not be invited out on any future dates.

The order should be expensive. At least as expensive as the guy's meal. This shows that the woman is worth something and tests the guys willingness and ability to pay. Guys who cannot pay for expensive fast food items are not worth continued dating. Females should consider starting with the most expensive menu item and working their way down to a menu item they like. CAUTION: Avoid the temptation to supersize. Supersizing violates the fat content warning.

The food needs to look good. This has as much to do with the female's appetite as anything else. I really don't understand it.

The food needs to taste good. This is the least important criterion.

The female approaches the menu tentatively, reading through the entire document to glean all available information. The female thinks through each of the criteria, often maintaining a boistrous conversation with her date. She will eliminate options tentatively. New realizations and thoughts about the menu will cause her to reconsider her previous eliminations. Sometimes she will start over and reevaluate all the choices, but she will never tell anyone else what she is doing. Inquiries into her selection process are an afront to her judgment and are met with offense.

The female is like the BCS - no one knows how she makes her rankings.

FCN BC08 - F: Gender as Described by Animals, a Photo Essay

Animals make great illustrations. That's why there are so many illustrations of them.

Today, we examine a dozen illustrations of animals which illustrate illustrative differences between human males and females. The gender of the animals, is, of course, unimportant. They're just for illustrational purposes. Illustrationals of humans, which are of course different from animals. Some animals don't even have genders. I know, right? Seriously.

Let's begin.

Baboon opens his mouth really wide for all the world to see.
Male.

Chimpanzees groom each other for hours on end.
Female.


Squirrel casts his body into the unknown with no regard to personal safety.
Male.

Red Panda is really cute but doesn't know it.
Female.


Beaver builds something big using mostly teeth.
Male.

Cat takes interest in someone who just doesn't want to be friends.
Female.

Dog throws dignity to the wind in hopes of getting what the woman is teasing him with.
Male.

Peacock attracts opposite gender by showing engaging personality.
Female.

Birds hang upside down for reasons not even they can verbalize.
Male.

Wolves move in packs with extremely complex social structures.
Female.

Wolves assert dominance by crushing the competition.
Male.

Hippo tolerates slightly annoying but small and cute birds on back.
Female.