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Women’s Genius & Insanity – 2

Updated on September 18, 2012

Hello again, You Lot, have you missed me? My wife and I have been away for a long weekend to London, where my wife wanted to see a ballet company perform Romeo & Juliet. Ballet is not something that I personally enjoy, but my wife was sure that I would enjoy this one. It is comforting to know that she can sometimes be wrong. By the way, if you men will not appreciate a brilliant joke like the FDA joke in Part One of this story, how can I have the courage to go on? It really is too much, you know. I can understand the girls not getting my jokes, but YOU??? Tsk, tsk, this will not do.

So, as I was saying in Part One of this story, women have a streak of insanity which is beyond comprehension by the male of the species. They will loose all control at the sight of a simple poem that we men can take it or leave it alone. But they also have a genius which is indisputable and we men can only stare at in jealous owe. This story started by something my friend Green Lotus said in one of her comments to my stories, to the effect that she is married to the “ALMOST perfect” man. And there lies the genius of the female. In the word “Almost”.

The word “Almost” is descriptive of the female genius, because it illuminates how the female mind works in relation to its male captive, as nothing else could possibly do. A female is willing to go as far as to look at her man as being part human, provided he behaves. But in order for him to ensure that he is on his good behaviour at all times, the word “ALMOST” is a constant part of the female lexicon. She will always use it in order to ensure that she will keep her man off balance at all times, needing the female even for the smallest thing.

Taking my own wife as an example, during our last trip to London we stayed at the house of a friend. Our friend is in her eighties and lives alone in a huge house almost at the centre of London, so it is quite convenient. In expectation of my arrival, our friend cooked my favourite meal for lunch and when we sat down to enjoy it, my wife kept arranging the various dishes on my plate. I found this to be embarrassing for someone of my age and asked my wife:

“May I be trusted to arrange my own food please?”

Nooo my looooove… You are only a babyyy and you know I can’t trust you to do anything by yourself.”

In one fell swoop, she reduced me to a clumsy piece of property which would be unable to survive without her. Now please do not rash into thinking that the De Greeks are spineless worms. Read the subsequent events and see why you are wrong in your hasty judgement:

Those of you who remember my hub “A Guaranteed Cure for Smoking”, which told how I stopped smoking cold turkey, will know that I was a cigar smoker for many years and that I no longer smoke. However, my friend in London had bought me a box of my favourite Cuban cigars and I could not say no to her, so I had a cigar after lunch and one after dinner. My wife does not smoke and she does not like the smell of cigarettes, but she met me as a cigar smoker and she claimed that she liked the smell of cigars. That night when we went to bed, she kept me up half the night kissing because I smelled the way I did when she first met me. Now tell me. How could anyone not give in to such a wonderful compliment?

Next day at dinner I waited patiently for her to arrange the food on my plate, without a single word of complaint. See how they train us?

Generally the female goes through life with the simple conviction that she will not endure liberties from Beast or Nature, let alone her Man! She expects her man to acquire the habit of obedience and confession. Confession of any wrong doing, even before he commits it, often by merely glancing accidentally at a photograph of herself, the one she strategically placed in his wallet for the purpose.

We men may differ widely on politics, religion, the stock exchange and circumcision amongst countless other subjects, but we are unanimous on one single point: We are convinced that our woman can read our thoughts. When we men have a guilty conscience and our love interest looks at us squarely between the eyes, we want to be elsewhere and we want to be there yesterday. We just know she knows. How she knows we cannot tell and we do not really care. She simply knows and our spine becomes liquid. We know that our woman will occasionally put up with nerve when it is in its proper place provided there is not too much of it, and we know that she wants us to be fearless in defence of family interests, but we also know that she prefers her man to be boneless in his dealings with herself.

You may have gathered by now that the De Greeks are not an aggressive lot. We rather have a predisposition to adapt philosophically whenever we find ourselves in a sea of troubles and in all such instances to search for the nearest life vest rather than exert effort by taking up arms against it. It has never been our habit to pick up the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and fling them back at the source. Live and let live is our family motto. This is not always the case with the female of the species. Going by the behaviour of my ex-wife, there are times when the female of the species simply wants blood! But that is another story.


Friends, it is night time here now and it is the hour at which we men have carefully placed ourselves outside a few whiskies and sodas, with the result that we are in danger of becoming confidential. I shall stop here before I risk boring you with graphic and painful details. Good night.

Dimitris Mita

De Greek


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