The Irritable Man Remade

10551-485-500I was cruising around the net and came across something that made me laugh and go Oh Yeah at the same time: IMSIrritable Man Syndrome.

Did you hear that?

It was the noise of female eyes rolling combined with a little to the ceiling head movement. Probably there is a faction that opines IMS is a condition not unlike ADD. Sure, it has a name now, but in the old days it was just “fidgety”. Irritable man? Redundant.

Now, I THINK the article was sincere, but I just snickered and headed over here with a thought to write about it. I didn’t read the whole thing. If you want to, Go here.

I’m sure there are lots of scientific and medical justification. I don’t know any of that. I’m just a man, I’m irritated, and while some problems are caused by things like socks that are too constricting, stores inconveniently closed when I want to shop and cable television in general, nothing stirs the hornet’s nest like attributing all irritations to women, and so, reaching into the bottomless grab bag that is my life, I will now describe for you why everything that makes me remotely annoyed to insanely angry originates with women.

Now, if you are reading this, are in or have been in my life, and feel you recognize yourself in something I’ve written here, I assure you, it’s not you. It’s someone else.

    • Symptom: Chronic Fatigue – I used to sleep well. Very well. Late on Saturdays. Then I dated The Sleep Jackal. Settling down for the night, she’d listen for the tell-tale signs of my breath slowing and then just as I passed over into the Land of Nod, she’d ask me something. The first 40 or 50 times each evening I’d be polite and do my best to answer. After that I’d get irritable.
    • Symptom: Confusion – “Men are such pigs.” We hear that a lot. For those of us who aren’t, we hear it anyway, feel it imposed upon us like a toppling cinderblock wall and we become more piggish in a Can’t Beat ‘Em So May As Well Join ‘Em kind of reaction. And the next time a woman in a low cut top bends over to ask me a special favour in a little girl voice, if she has issue with my visual appreciation of her décolletage, I will get irritable.
    • Symptom: Depression – Nothing is worse than checking the balance of your joint account and finding it leaner than the Leaf’s playoff chances. Well, maybe it’s a little worse when you listen to boasts of restraint, of not spending more than $50, then seeing 10 separate purchases of $49.99. Irritating.
    • Symptom: Uncommunicative – I have never been literally blue in the face, but I frequently get there in a figurative manner. It doesn’t help that I have a compulsion to be clearly understood. That only makes the end result more frustrating. I take Great Pains to be clear. My ability to put it into writing probably stems from just this. So any time something diametrically opposed to my words and intent is presented starting with “Oh, I thought you meant…” I know, deeply and purely in my heart, that I was never listened to in the first place. Me? Not communicating? If I don’t, it’s because there is no point. And that is incredibly irritating.

With all the tribulations that women have rained down upon me it’s probably no wonder I’m single. Of more wonder is my dissatisfaction with being single, so there is likely a flip side to this story that I am conveniently ignoring here.

And true, if women get on my nerves so much, I could just hang out with men more often.

But you know what? They’re irritating.

Update Friday

The lethargy of the holidays has created a backlog of Things That Need Doing and new work has jumped on top of that resulting in fewer posts this past week. A couple of updates today to tide you over until either a) I have something relevant to say or more likely b) I spout off irrelevantly in greater detail.

The Impartial Wardrobe Evaluation Project has come to an end, as I have closed down my photo profile on a popular dating site, disappointing thousands of single women, I’m sure, if only they knew. However, I still have the electric blanket on my bed to simulate Other Body warmth, so it remains a research project only. As you may recall, the earlier profile, pre-wardrobe consultation, produced responses from a group whose average age was about 60, a high percentage of whom were interested in and/or owned motorcycles. As I am a decade younger and gave no indication of bikerly tendencies except inadvertently through my photos, this was somewhat shocking.

Conducted under more stringent scientific method, with results audited by the firm of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe, the follow up research produced well in excess of 400 views of my profile, about 100 a week. Of those who responded to the profile the median age dropped startlingly to 46.4 years and not a one mentioned “Harley” anywhere. Officially, Kathryn’s Makeover of Me can be declared a success.

venus-embrace-canada1This blog first came about after a post I made on my other blog, the one about the Venus Embrace razor. To read that one, go here. I have been using the original cartridge on my face since the start of November, an unheard of life for any razor. As I received a 4 pack of replacement cartridges as a gag gift (ha!) for Christmas (more or less) I decided to change to a new blade, though I was still quite happy with results from the original cartridge. There was Very Little Difference, if any at all, from this new cartridge.


I may have become your worst nightmare. I have discovered that the Venus Embrace is the ultimate whisker removing tool for men on the planet, and probably in the universe, though I am wary of speaking beyond the scope of my experience.

There is no similarly constructed instrument available and marketed to men. I believe you know this. I believe also that you know that the 4 cartridges I received will last me all of calendar year 2011 and it scares the shit out of you due to losses in sales if it becomes known that this blade configuration is not designed to clog with whiskers on first pass like all other men’s razors.

Like too many greedy corporations you are more concerned with selling at all costs rather than engaging in the more ethically sound practice of giving people a quality product without misleading them or building in planned obsolescence.

There is only one thing to be done: Hire me. $40K annually with benefits will guarantee my silence about the wonders of the Venus Embrace as a Men’s Grooming Device. I may even throw in a little writing for you at that price. But I’m not giving my razor back. Once my inner Goddess got out, she decided she liked it.

And that is all for Friday.

Published in: on January 7, 2011 at 10:17 am  Comments (7)  
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Red Carpet Bound

All right, back into the swing. I have to say that getting dressed was pretty easy over the holiday season. Not only were things Kathryn advised me on very mix-and-match, I even remembered enough to spot some things that work in the rotation. You might have picked up here and there that I’m a bit skeptical in nature (no! really??) and so suspicious of how long the silk purse will last after the makeover shows release the sow’s ears they’ve transformed. Since I rate pretty much everyone’s shopping abilities above mine, I suppose there is hope for the world, if I can retain anything.

This is kind of an open challenge now, as we move forward (oh, Kathryn, are you listening?). As it happens I am up for a couple of awards and as such I have two awards galas coming up before the end of the month. Early in February, there is an opening night pending also. All three events are theatre related, therefore artsy and offbeat. As it happens I have Lovely Accomplices scheduled for two of these three events, and even an outside chance at a PAIR of Lovely Accomplices for the third event. Call me greedy, eva-green-and-daniel-craigbut Mr. Bond and Mr. Hefner would both approve, I think.

Now, despite the sophistication of these events, I’m likely a long shot to win an award as I am new on the scene, not an established name like my co-nominees, and I am just rather amused by the awards thing anyway, tickled to be involved. However, if I am going to go, Go Big, right? I recall a scene from Casino Royale where Eva Green says to Daniel Craig, “There are dinner jackets and there are Dinner Jackets. This is the latter.”

While I would swoon if Eva Green so much as called me a drop of donkey spittle, not even for her would I go out and buy more clothes. Come ON. I have my limits. However, Going Big requires an entrance (for which I have been tutored in a networking sense) and no longer happy with simply fitting in, I have the urge to make a Grand Statement, if only to improve my chances for next year.

So, the challenge is thus: a) Lovely Accomplices deserve a more streamlined me. What can we accomplish in a month? And b) how can I make three Grand Statements at three separate events within a three week period, where many of the same people will attend each? And no, I have NO BUDGET.

Of all the times to be caught without a tuxedo.

Published in: on January 3, 2011 at 9:20 am  Comments Off on Red Carpet Bound  
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Awwright, Party’s Over

Platypus-transparentWell, for a couple days, or perhaps just a few hours, not sure. The Remade Man ventured out into a showy and peaceful Yule season and emerged unscathed. Odd thing, amongst old acquaintances who have resisted the Media Juggernaut this blog has unleashed, comments about appearance were minimal, You Look Good’s and You’ve Lost Weight’s. Despite the appearance of caps like I’ve never warn before and big scarves draped as instructed, I had not one Holy Shit What Happened To You or even a Wazzup, Did You Lose A Bet? If there was tittered laughter, it was way behind my back, where is usually is.

As much as I want to tell you I am still the cocky and arrogant bastard I always was, there is a congruence now that wasn’t there before. At first it masked as confidence, but then it was apparent these were the same smart assed comments that always issued forth. When not faced with Scruffian Biker, strangers were more receptive to the spirit of the humour. Therefore indulgence in said humour increased and general mirth and merriment more readily ensued as store clerks and passersby had less suspicion they’d be shanked as the punch line to the jokes.

So too have the lessons of the Presence session been applied in scenarios far reaching beyond the scope suggested. I have adapted the Entering a Room advice to situations like Entering a Restaurant and Entering a Liquor Store with similar effect. When in my daily casual attire previously, I believe I would avoid eye contact in general, possibly as a way of de-emphasizing the implicit threat of my visual.

So, at this halfway point of the Holiday Season, I am loathe to say it, but so far so good on the improvements without the changes, as promised. I am Still Me, and it’s easier to be Me.

I hate it when I’m wrong.

Too Many Options

The future is so bright. And I have no prescription sunglasses.

Kathryn and I emerged unscathed from the first foray into popular media. You will recall Mr. Media Journalist of last week who was avalanched by a mountain of words in an attempt to understand exactly what it was we were up to and shape and contain it in article form. He extracted himself admirably.

My observation then and now is that we wrote the article for him. It was all there. Sound bites, creative non-sequiturs, meat and potatoes, everything he needed. His challenge was to weed through the gravy, the gallons of gravy of verbosity, that we heaped upon his plate.

His was an editing job of substantial proportions, the needle in a wordly haystack. I’m in a little bit of trouble as Cute Instigator, the person who introduced Kathryn and I, does not feel she was adequately represented in the story. I told her, in this case, it’s okay to shoot the messenger.

We have taken a week off from further incursions into the Resurrection of Me, you know, Christmas and all. Probably a good idea I stop talking about myself directly (although, really, I am quite beautiful now)(the washroom is that way, if you don’t get to the Gravol fast enough) and perhaps deal with my take on some men’s issues while we wait for the next segment of the adventure.

So, in a tradition of casual, lazy Friday blogs, this is, more or less, all folks.