The Differences Between Men & Women

 

Well, people, Dr. Matlock is giving marital advice again. 

But in this case, the gal aint married yet!

Hmmmm….

Do I help a damsel in distress, or, do I help a man avoid the spider web that is euphemistically called “marriage?

 

Let’s see……

 

 

 

Dear Dr. Matlock:

 

My boyfriend and I have been together for about 6 months. We get along fine, but I can’t get him to commit to a deeper relationship. I want to get married, but he’s says he’s happy the way things are now. My mother and my girlfriends all give me advice, and I’m confused. Help!

Single and Sad,

Scott, LA

 

Dear Single,

Part of your problem lies in the fact that you are getting your information about men from women. Most women have no idea what makes men tick, because what they know about men came from other women. You’ve finally come to the right place for understanding the male species, because it takes a man to understand a man, I don’t care what your girlfriends say. Ready for a good dose of reality? Okay, here goes….

 

As far as men are concerned, there are two types of women. 1—Women You Play With, and 2—Women You Stay With.

You are in one of these two categories, get it?

Don’t fool yourself!

As far as he’s concerned, you are either a Sleeper……….or a Keeper. Let me give you a description of Women You Play With, and Women You Stay With, then you can decide which one you are in his life. The nice thing about it is, you decide which category you will choose to remain in!

Just understand, in order to change category, you might have to change men.

 

Women You Play With, (aka “babes”, “tricks”, “hoes”, plus any number of less complimentary names), are like pool sticks or baseball bats. They’re designed for fun and games, depending on their quality. Since they are designed for fun and games, the best place to meet them are in local playgrounds (night clubs). The idea is, when you want to play baseball, you pick up a glove and bat, because, that’s what they’re designed for. Tennis? Pick up a racquet. Billiards? Pick up a pool stick. Want to play good time date and hot sex? Pick up a good time girl. Get it?

Then, when you’re finished, you put them down, or up, depending on how attached you are to them. If they’re for your own personal use, you put them up in their case for safekeeping. If not, you put them in the rack on the wall for the next man to use.

Same thing with Good Time Girl. If she’s of low quality, put her in your cell, and call her when you feel like playing again.

If she’s of high quality, give her a space in your life,  and call her your girlfriend. Now, she’s available for fun 24/7.

 

But what about marriage, you ask? The answer is simple: What the heck for?

 

You don’t marry a Play Girl, you play with her. That is her function, nothing more, nothing less. Guys don’t marry their tennis racquets, do they? Geez! Stop asking silly questions!

 

Women You Stay With (aka “Keepers“) are a totally different breed of cat. Because they demand dignity and respect, they get it. Because they don’t tolerate being taken for granted, a good man won’t do that. Because a Keeper loves herself, and has a plan for her life, and a schedule to get there, (did you get that?), a good man will make whatever adjustments he needs to get and keep this woman in his life. He nails her down with a firm commitment, and works quickly to incorporate her in his life.

“Aint no mountain high enough, aint no valley low enough, aint no river wide enough, to keep me from youuuuuu…….”

That’s the mindset of a man who’s made a decision about his woman.

 

I need to backtrack a bit. You see, you’re the product of your female upbringing. When you were a girl, you were brought up playing a whole different set of games than little boys played. You played dolls, and house, and Barbie and tea parties, etc, etc. Your games were the cooperative, let’s-play-together type games.

Hopscotch.

Jump rope.

Baby dolls, with tea sets and teddy bears and stuffed animals as guests. Sweet, aint it?

That’s all well and good, but you better understand that boy’s games were different.

 

Vastly different.

 

When boys play games, they keep score.

Football? Touchdowns, field goals, safeties, extra points!

Basketball? Two points! Three points! Slam Dunk!

Baseball? First base, double, triple! Home run! Yaaaaay!

Boy’s games require scoring to be fun.

They also require clearly defined rules. Out of bounds! Double dribble! Clipping! Foul ball!

Scoring, and rules, that’s what boy’s games are all about, Boo.

 

So what does that mean for you?

Well, it’s simple, actually. You are in his life to the extent he sees you as either One To Play With, or One To Stay With.

A Keeper or a Sleeper. Which are you? Here’s how you know:

Keepers are treated differently from Sleepers, because the rules are different.

Sleepers are called when an itch needs to be scratched.

Keepers are called in and considered when a life decision needs to be made.

Sleepers are not called on during their time of the month. Who needs cramps and mood swings?

Keepers are kept close, no matter what day of the month, because he doesn’t want any other man to have access to the Keeper.

 

So what does he consider you to be?

Remember, men play by rules, and Rule # 1 is: Men identify what is theirs.

What does he refer to you as? When he introduces you to people who are important to him, what does he say you are?

Don’t get all girly here. Don’t try to examine and parse every syllable for a clue to what’s in his head. You don’t need a clue!

What he thinks about you will come directly out of his mouth!

If you’re “a friend of mine” or ‘my ‘ol girl”, then you’d better take a serious look at what you are to him, ‘cause he aint all that into you. When a man is casual about how he refers to you, you’re a Play Girl.

 

You said he’s satisfied with the way things are now? If you’re happy being his #1 Play Girl, fine. Don’t do anything different. Enjoy the dinner and dancing, and the sex. Just know that if/when he runs into a Woman You Stay With, you get kicked to the curb. Slowly, perhaps, but for kissing some concrete, smooch-smooch, Baby, smooch-smooch!

Don’t get mad, it’s what you settled for.

Don’t hate the player, hate the game. You’re a nice little pool stick, hang on the rack awhile, another man will pick you up.

Hopefully.

 

If you’re not happy, now is the time to make your move out of Playhood into Stayhood. The key word is “”availability.”

Playgirls are always available.

Always.

When you give off that “I’ll always be here for you” vibe, guess what? That’s the rule he’ll play by.

(Honey, stop watching the LifetimeChannel. That schit aint real. Trust me.)

StayGirls operate their lives on a schedule, and they aint hanging around waiting on a man to call them. You have to let him know what you want, and your timeframe for getting it, and, if he’s not on board with that, this train’s pulling out of the station. Choo-choo, baby, chooooo-chooooo!

 

The second thing you do to get out of Playland:

Close your legs.

Somebody wrote an excellent book on relationships called If You Want Closure, Start With Your Legs.

Good book. Read it!

 

As long as he’s getting sex anytime he wants it, you’re playing by his rules.

 

If you make yourself available to him 24/7, why in the world does he have to marry you?

Here’s a concept: Become unavailable. Close your legs. Turn off the tap.

What that does is flush him out, as far as his intentions are concerned. If he loves you, and wants to transfer you to Stayville, (good news! you can be transferred! Yaaaaaaaay! But, work quick. The clock is ticking!), he’ll do  whatever it takes to get you there. If he just wants to play, he’ll say whatever he thinks you want to hear to keep you playing, but his behavior will stay the same. Don’t pay attention to what he says, pay attention to what he does. Remember,  a man who is committed to a woman will not let the grass grow under his feet, because a Keeper is too much in demand to stay on the market any length of time.

 

So, mamacita, it’s up to you!

 

Do what you gotta do, to be what you wanna to be!

Matlock Bitness College!!!

I, Matlock 61, am now offering a new service to you White People!

Yaay!

 

What is it, you may ask?

 

Matlock Bitness College—Earn your Master of Bitness Administration, so you can handle your bitness!!!

 

You see, “handlin’ yo’ bitness” is an important part of Black Culture, and I would be remiss in my duties as HNIC if I didn’t teach you this essential piece.

We are offering a series of classes that will help move you swiftly towards your MBA, such as:

Basic Ebonics–What the Heck Are They Saying? (Mandatory Prerequisite)

American Subcultures Culture 101: Black Wimmen, White Wimmen, White Mens, & Brothers–Why We Do The Thangs We Do.

Finance 101: Proper Techniques in Operating Without Proper Licensure 

 

Finance 102: Identifying Various Begging Techniques/Handling a Beggar With Minimal Liability

Tuition be free.

 

Attendance be mandatory.

(see why Ebonics is a prerequisite?)

 

No tuition? You’re puzzled and confused. The classes are free, but the After Parties following each class gonna cost you somethin’, trust me. You see, “handlin’ yo’ bitness” means to know which end of the cow the milk comes from.

And, of course, knowing how to extract said milk from the aforementioned cow. As Grandpa Matlock used to say, “If ya gonna milk a cow, make sho’ yo’ hands be warm!”

 

Anyway, in local news…

Sister Brown got something on Rev. Kimble!

 

Shhh!

 

She got……..pictures.

See, not too many people know about this, but Rev used to be a tomcat, running around with his tail hanging out, if you know what I mean. There was this high-yellow gal that joined church about 2 years ago, and Rev. was kinda sweet on her from day one. You could tell by the way he took a long time to join her up, patting her hand, and praying an extra-long prayer for her soul, but everybody knew it wasn’t her soul he was concerned with, it was them size 44 DD’s she had hanging out of her sweater.

 

Huh? Where was his wife?

 

Oh, she had joined sometime in between his 3rd and 4th wife.

 

Rev move quick.

Don’t interrupt.

Anyway, I don’t know why Rev. didn’t check around, he would’a found out this gal had a thing for preachers; some daddy issues she aint never worked out, and everywhere she go, she end up with the pastor. So, anyway, this girl is Sister Brown’s nieces, and she let it slip that her and Rev. was gonna hook up at the motel. Sister Brown, she one of those that always gotta see for herself, and, she carry her cell phone with her to snap pics.

She need to take a couple’s selfies, ’cause she fool around with Deacon Whitlock’s nephew Jo-Bee, and she think Jo-Bee keep it to hisself, but the boy stay on Facebook, and he keep a webcam on his nightstand. Sister Brown  don’t know, but she gonna make her FB debut next week. Jo-Bee says he might burn a few DVDs, make him some money!

 

Back to my story. Sister Brown went with her niece to the Crispy Sheet Motel, set herself in the closet and wait for ol’ Rev. ‘Bout fifteen, twenny minutes later there was a tap at the door, and in walk in Rev. Accordin’ to Sister Brown, “…he didn’t even say hello, he just started strippin’ off his clothes! He started strippin’, an’ I started snappin’!”

 

I aint gonna say what else she said, because it just aint fittin’ in polite company, if you know what I mean. Sister Brown says she gonna have a loooong talk with Rev, after Sunday’s sermon, dependin’ on what he preach about. She better hurry, ’cause Jo-Bee gonna put her bitness on the street in a minute. Between her, Rev, and Jo-Bee, in about a week or so, Sweet Home Full Gospel Baptist Church of the Nazarene Holiness Temple of Praise and Deliverance A.M.E Methodist African Episcopalian gonna be a mess!

Huh?

 

That aint the same name I said last week?

 

Child, they change the name of that church like Rev. Kimble change his drawers. Maybe more often….

 

Ha!

Luther’s Barber Shop

I gotta quit going to Luther’s.

 

Not Luther’s BBQ, I’m talking about Luther’s Barber Shop.

 

Luther got a bad habit of watching old wrestling re-runs while he cut hair. Lose a few customers every time Dusty Rhodes put the Sleeper Hold on somebody. Luther start digging those clippers in, whoopin’ and hollerin’  and, well, it makes a mess. I gotta ask him what channel that comes on. Wrestling re-runs?

 

Like, it’s already fake to begin with, and you gotta watch the re-runs?

 

There’s another Luther in town, y’know. Luther Caldwell owns the Rib Shack next to the pool hall…well his wife actually owns it, you know, cuz you can’t get a liquor license if you’re a convicted felon. I’m gonna quit going to that Luther’s, too.

 

Why?

 

I aint sure if those ribs of his actually was cut off of a pig, you feel me? Luther trying to compete with that new Chinese buffet, but I think Luther and Johnny Ling got the same supply truck rolling up to their place. I gotta tell Luther, sometimes cheaper aint better. Besides, Johnny Ling’s sauce got Luther’s beat by a mile. They say his wife Ding, she spit in the sauce, but…

 

Huh?

 

Hey, I aint tryin’ to make fun of Chinese people! That’s her name, Ding Ling!

 

Well, that’s what everybody calls her, and she answer the phone to it.

 

“Ling Chinee prace, Ding speakin’! Bes’ wing in town!”

 

That’s what she says, so don’t get mad with me.

Anyway, they say she spit in the sauce, to give it that real Asian flavor, but I aint seen that, myself. I’m still trying to figure out where they get them ribs from…

 

You know Johnny and his family joined the Baptist church last week, don’t ya?

Humph.

 

Johnny Ling aint foolin’ nobody. Johnny got his eye on that Sunday lunch crowd. You can tell them Lings aint really Baptist. Big fat Buddha eyeballin’ you as soon as you walk in. I wonder if somebody told Johnny he gonna get baptized next month? I’m gonna tell him to bring some soap…that oughta’ be worth the price of the offering…

 

Can you imagine, a whole family of Asians getting’ baptized by Rev, Kimball? I aint tryin’ to make fun, but that’s gonna be a mess! Rev is already kinda nervous to begin with, and he gotta put 5 Asians in some water, and dunk ‘em under? And you know, sometime Rev forget he got somebody underwater, and he go to talkin’ ‘bout how …”Jordan River be chilly and cold, chill my body, but not my soul,” and he lie like a sidewalk, that water be freezing! But freezing aint the problem, Rev, you fixin’ to drown somebody in here!

 

When Rev. Kimble hold Ding Ling underwater for 5 minutes, it’s gonna be some schit in Sweet Home Baptist Church of the Nazarene Pentecostal Holiness Church, trust me!

 

Yeah, I know. That’s a funny name for a church. Somebody need to get their doctrine straight.

 

But you know Black people. All we care about is whether or not the choir can sing, and can Reverend Wimble preach good or not. We get baptized when we six years old, get that outta the way early. Johnny and Ding in their twenties, their kids 14, 12, and 3.

I wonder if he gonna try to put ‘em all in the pool at the same time?

Ping, that’s the 3-year old, he don’t lissen to nobody. Rev might, just might, wanna hold him under for awhile, on purpose. Best way to get the devil out is to drown his azz, y’know. Rev. Kimble might end up with a lungful of water hisself, he aint careful.

 

I ought’a warn him, but he was throwin’ slams in the pulpit, talkin’ about, “Some o’ you young wimmens wear yo’ dresses too short! Couple ‘yall wear yo’ skirt one mo’ inch higher, y’all gonna need lipstick! Nasty heifers…”

 

Made my wife mad. She says, “Why Rev be looking at those young women, anyway? He need to be watching Sister Kimble, with her ashy feet! 2 inches of crust on her ankles! Look like she been dipping her legs in cornmeal! All she’s missing is some hot grease, we can have a fish fry up in here! Speaking of fish, she need to wash them old nasty stocking she done wore for the past 3 weeks! Humph! Fish net stockings, that’s exactly what they smell like, fish!”

 

I’m leaving that alone…

 

Ha!