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Men’s Secrets

Updated on November 13, 2013

Only for Women.

My friend Tonymac4 leaves comments on old Hubs of mine, to the effect that because I have stopped writing extensively on HubPages, he is forced to go back to old stories of mine to re-read them for the third or fourth time in order to cheer himself up.

The De Greeks hate causing unhappiness and so I must write a new hub in the hope of bringing a smile on the lips of my friend. As a result, Ladies, you are about to receive a valuable education on how the brain of the male of the species operates. Naturally I refer to the male worth having, not the common or garden male you want to return to the shop for a refund.

I shall begin with a gem of wisdom which is the most basic secret of the male psyche, one which your mother never discovered and your father was too ignorant to tell you. The male heart detests a vacuum; And Ladies, this gem of wisdom is one you should put in your diary, on your bathroom mirror and on your computer screen saver. And I explain:

When given the raspberry by a loved one, we men tend to try to write poetry at first but then, after the heart has lain empty for a few days, we tend to clean up shop and redecorate, placing welcome signs in strategic places. It is not long before some girl will fall over herself to enter. The spiritual agony originally caused by the rejection of the one of whom in our mind we now refer to as “what’s-her-name” is but a dim memory about which we wonder, marvelling at our idiocy at ever having allowed it to give the slightest twinge of pain. We cease to sigh and shed tears, but - unfortunately for the previous female of the species - the poor fish continues to believe that she has a power over us and as a result she miscalculates, she makes idiotic errors of judgement and she ends up wondering how she could have been so stupid as to have let “that one” go.

Women often have a vein of sentiment in them which sets them apart from the male of the species, who is more inclined to look at matters from the practical side and the “practical side” for us is a euphemism for wanting to get laid. We will put up with a lot to achieve this noble end, but once we have achieved it and the female realizes that multiple orgasms is not the myth she has been led to believe the experience to be, then she is lost for ever. You, Ladies, feeeeeel things we men fortunately cannot. That is why you tenderly lay your heads on our chests, you melt into us and you want to DO things for us. You know what I mean.

Cruel though it may be to my self esteem, I am now beginning to receive certain vibes to the effect that some of my readers would be deeply obliged if I will postpone this essay in male psychoanalysis for some future occasion, preferably at a time when they are absent, enjoying that long awaited trek through the Himalayas. As reluctant as I am though to shatter their youthful dreams and aspirations, my Art calls to me and I must go on! I simply must teach. Those who are unmoved by this literary rhapsody may perhaps be gracious enough to just grin and bear it.

Now to carry on with the lesson, let me use the example of my own first love:

It was love at first sight, a fact that by itself made the newly felt emotion even more remarkable. I was certain that falling in love at first sight was a unique event in the history of humankind, never before experienced by any other living thing, which made it even more impressive to me. We were both eight at the time and she kicked me when I first approached her with a proposal that we should be friends. I remember feeling, even at that tender age, that kicking might constitute an obstacle to spending our future lives together, but she eventually came to regret her rash act and we made up.

I used to wait in line behind her at the school water fountain, so that I would drink from the same tap as she, immediately after her. She in turn would come up behind me on the run when I was not looking and slap me on the back, laughing as she run off, that being HER way of flirting. And I remember the day I broke my arm playing football looking at her as they drove me off to the hospital, standing with her arms hanging limb at her sides, head and shoulders slightly bent forward and her mouth wide open wailing in what I now realize was love, tears and nose snot running down her face without any effort on her part to cover the spectacle. That cured me of love I can tell you.

What is the moral of this story? Never let yourselves go! Even when we are in love with you, we want you to be pretty! Even in track suits, make sure that the track suit is chic and that you look as attractive as possible.

As immodest as this might sound, let me support my position by saying that the De Greeks have always had a way with women. In the old days of our Norman-Greek ancestors we did it with the aid of a double bladed axe or with sword and spear, with which instruments we explained to the members of the potential bride’s village the advantage of consenting to the elopement. In latter years, as civilisation came upon us, graceful, witty and ingratiating words of admiration, esteem and chivalry became the order of the day. Any relatives of the girl who might unwisely decide to infest the surroundings of the tête-à-tête were treated with the utmost courtesy, patience and generosity, but arrangements were quietly made at the same time for a ton of bricks to be dropped on them from a third floor window at the earliest opportunity. But this has come about through considerable trial and error and so what you are hearing now is the voice of mature male wisdom at the pinnacle of its power.

A woman who does not take care of herself, who becomes sloppy and, God forbid, uses foul language will end up lonely and rejected, or with someone of the same ilk as herself and that can never lead to contentment and happiness.

The De Greeks (and those like us) generally avoid any bitter or derogatory words to the female of the species, unless we are related to them by strong bonds of blood. In the latter case we rather tend to let ourselves go, but that, I think you will agree, is within the bounds of family courtesy to a sister or a first cousin. A clip around the ear was not unknown in more youthful times. But courtesy to everyone else is a strict unbreakable rule, always having in mind the “practical side” to which I have previously referred to above. So if you come across someone who uses inappropriate language to you, be sure that that person could not possibly be the mate of your dreams.

Alternate experiences and thoughts may rule your minds and I know that preconceived ideas are woman’s prerogative, but ladies, the road to exhausting mental torture, loneliness and unhappiness is paved with preconceived ideas, so do try to give them a miss as much as possible. Once one is trapped in them it will take considerable mental aerobatics to be able to escape them. Just remember that all we want from you is to share our “practical side”, to allow us to drop off to sleep immediately afterwards, occasionally allow us some time to ourselves and we become your slaves.

If at the end of this article you find that you have learned something, please do not be shy in expressing your thoughts in the comments section, hopefully marking it up or down. The same if you have not learned anything and you absolutely disagree with me. Just remember that if you are cruel to me I, while still wearing the white flower of a blameless life, shall take to drink. I shall then officially become a soul in torment, a spent force, a ruin without a future. When the De Greek soul is bruised, neither love, work, nor Gerry Springer shall bring me out of this gloom, so please be gentle with me.

Dimitris Mita

De Greek


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