What He Says And What He Means: Understanding Your Man

Sugar Coated Tongue

I guess by now us girls know men come from a far off place with a very obvious diversion to the English language. I personally call this lying, however I have heard several abbreviations. Among a few favorites are; barefaced liar and sugar coated tongue. The thing is, a lot of the time these misdemeanors are blamed on us girls. Do our aliens (men) lie to save face? Are our feelings constantly been spared? What do you think?

He says: He means

We all like to know the opinions of the men in our lives; especially when it comes to what we wear. Very important if we are going out to dinner with him! However, even more important if we are going out to dinner with our girl friends. The hair, the dress and the shoes.

Our night begins with a twirl on the living room floor in our favorite eye candy dress. When we ask our man:

''Do I look good in this dress?'' Is his answer really an honest one? Perhaps the conversation would go something like this...

He says: he means

Anything sound familiar?

  • Your hair looks lovely darling, he says... he means. You and your hair styles cost a bloody fortune.
  • That sounds good, around what time? he says... he means. No bloody way, I'll have to go missing. I'm watching the football.
  • Italian. Yeah sure, he says... he means. What table? What Italian? Pizza hut is my favorite. Triple meat feast with double cheese stuffed crust, yummy.
  • You look absolutely fabulous darling, he says... he means. Like I can tell you anything different. Oh! and as for your bum it's just big darling.
  • Looking very chic, he says... he means. Your legs look good in high heels. I like legs in high heels. Long slim legs.
  • Either earrings will be fine surely, he says... he means. Earrings!. What man in the world cares a damn about earrings?
  • Your mum loves Saturday night TV, he says... he means. No bloody way, not again, not ever, not in my lifetime (last time was the millennium).
  • Yes, he says... he means. Like you can use more than one bag at a time, so why bother, complete waste of my money.
  • No, you look absolutely fabulous darling, he says and we already know what he means.
  • Oh ! just a little footy, he says (with gritted teeth)... he means. Shit I missed the bloody goal and stop talking.


You say:

Take a ponder at the following!

  • Do you think I need to cut my hair darling. I was thinking of a new colour, blonde perhaps. Well! what do you think?
  • I think we should go shopping on Saturday, it'll be good fun! We haven't gone shopping together for ages.
  • Why don't we go out to dinner, maybe the Italian, you know the one, our very special favorite one. The one with our table in the corner.
  • What do you think of this dress? (you're in a little black dress and your twirling).
  • I think I'll wear these heels. What do you think (you're still in the dress, twirling with added stiletto heals that would make any man weep).
  • Darling which looks better: silver or gold? (you're holding earrings to your ear lopes and TWIRLING).
  • I'll ask mum too, she hasn't been out for a while! You don't mind darling, do you?
  • Did I show you my new bag? I got this little beauty, it will go with everything and anything A real bargain.
  • Do you think I should go on a diet? (your still twirling a la stilettos, oh! and the dress of course). Does this dress make my bum look big?
  • Darling. What are you watching? (you've stopped twirling).

Men Are From?

Are men from Mars? I can tell you the answer. No! They come from somewhere a hell of a lot further away than that. Somewhere over the rainbow where cardboard planes fly and football games are compulsory. Pizzas are served with cold beers delivered to the door on Saturday afternoons just as the Coca-Cola cup kicks off. John Wayne and Mr Eastwood or Clint have them fighting for seats in front of the google box for the hundredth run of their favorite spaghetti western: the closest they really ever want to get to pasta.

A place where their buddies wear matching T-shirts and shout at the TV in remarkable unison all clutching a TV remote with hundreds of buttons, that (you guessed it) never click the wrong station. A trip to the shops is a drive in MacDonald's with free orders of chips and quarter pounders to everyone driving a convertible BMW. Black with leather seats, self cleans and runs on fresh air, and everyone drives one, in their heads that is... or dreams more like... or where they come from...

Sugar coating is the national language and every time you say sorry you get a free test drive in Hamiltons newest race-mobile. Week days are just another name for weekends and coach potato is a popular compliment as everyone is one. Showering and spraying links is a favorite and smelly pastime. The only one involving standing up for any length of time, although not yet officially proven (football is a love affair, so all that jumping about doesn't count). Pastimes and hobbies are the working class jobs and pay rises are easily achieved, do something you like ie watch football and get drunk with your mates receive bonus. The male species have the fine art of camouflage, so never truly see themselves for exactly what they are. Indeed, men come from a strange oblivion with even stranger expectations: wheels, buttons and balls being the most prominent.


He Says: he means

  • Manchester. He means. Hello it tells you at the top of the screen.
  • No! He means. Who bloody cares? It's not a fashion parade!
  • Hmm. He means. What? you mean like my white shirts with the pink tinge!
  • That's the ref. He means. Stop asking all the STUPID questions.
  • No, another player is coming on. He means. God I need a drink.
  • The manager. He means, AHHHH ! shut up.
  • Hmm. He means. Bloody hell, he's NOT the only one.
  • Yes. He means. I need to clasp my hands around something, quick. Like your neck.
  • YES. He means. Jesus I missed it. I can't BELIEVE it. I need a pee.
  • Yep. He means. As well? I'm going to the bloody pub next saturday no matter what she says.

She Says

  • Darling, which team are in the red shirts?
  • Those orange socks don't match at all! Awful, and I don't like that v-neck neckline.
  • I never understand why they choose white shorts! I mean it's impossible to keep whites white.
  • For heaven sake why does that guy keep stopping the game?
  • Hey look! where's that player going, is it over?
  • Who's that jumping up and down on the side line?
  • Well he looks like he's going to explode, not good for the heart.
  • Would you like a gin and tonic darling?
  • Why is everyone yelling, oh! was that a goal?
  • Oh! can you get me a bag of crisps as well (as the gin and tonic) now you're up.

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