Why We Blog Presents: A Brief Guide to Men

The 3 C’s

If you’ve ever wondered why men are the way we are, there are the 3 C’s I’ve come up with to explain the strange, primitive animal that we are: Cave, Comestibles, Cleavage.

Cave Dweller

The trick here is to realize that the cave is home base. Everything comes back to the cave. All other C’s ultimately make the male of the homo sapien species desire to return to his cave. Food, drink, woman? Acquire. Drag back to cave.

The cave may be physical (a room, the garage, a campsite or fishing spot, a video game console in front of the tv, a computer in the den, the grill on the patio) or it may be mental (a sports game, music blaring on the stereo or through headphones) or metaphorical.

And that’s pretty much all you need to know.

But here are a few more observations.

Men do not appreciate being discussed. Whether it’s with your family or girlfriends or especially another man. That is an illegal operation and a violation of the unspoken rules of confidentiality. You do not discuss a man’s shortcomings or emotional expression with other sentient life forms. From a man’s point of view, if others believe that he has the ability to communicate and experience emotion or empathy it will be perceived as a sign of weakness and people will want to frequent his shelter/cave. And most threatening of all they’ll all want to know what he’s thinking.

I know it’s not fair, really, but when a dude is quiet he doesn’t feel like talking. Often, when you ask, “What are you thinking?” He’s not. Or he’s contemplating the fact that someone is knocking on his cave door when his silence — from his point of view — is the equivalent of a “DO NOT DISTURB” sign hanging on the door. Or he’s probably thinking, “I’d really like to be alone for a while.”

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t need some forced socialization or that there isn’t something or someone he’s supposed to be tending to. I’m just saying.

But to quote Sinbad, “Women be different than men.” Renting an apartment I naturally take stock of my neighbors. When a single woman rents an apartment chances are that she won’t be in it 75% of the time. And for the 25% of time she is in her apartment, she’ll attempt to have company over 90% of that time. If she can’t get anyone to come over to shield her from silence and stillness she will undoubtedly be on the phone that 90% of the time. The remaining 10% of the time she’s cleaning the apartment while talking on the phone.

Otherwise, she’ll be staying with a friend or at her boyfriend’s or a relative’s. Or a stranger that she just met at the grocery store. Fascinating.

Yes, I do realize that these are generalizations, but without generalizations we’d never begin to quantify anything. And they’re fun.


Men like food. Men are obsessed with protein and therefore want to kill and eat animals. There is, apparently, nothing manly about harvesting soy beans or quinoa. You can’t impale soy beans through the vitals with a crossbow bolt or better yet the arrow from a compound bow and then slit their throats as an act of mercy.

Men will, however, eat vegetables after they’ve been diagnosed with prostate or colorectal cancer OR if it will convince a woman to come back to his cave with him.

Men like to drink. We don’t usually pig out on sweets so most of our carb addiction, as a gender, comes from alcohol consumption. And since alcohol, sometimes described by me as liquid inhibition or liquid courage, can facilitate socializing and mate procurement it’s a win-win.

This explains why young men of even poor social standing feel comfortable going to bars wearing un-ironed polo shirts, khaki shorts and sandals with confidence that they will attract the attention of women who have gone through great efforts to accentuate the positives of their physiques and applied various chemicals, tinctures, ointments, lotions, perfumes and foot binding and heel elevation mechanisms.

I, myself, am not versed in the ways of alcohol as can be evidenced by my lack of mate procurement.


Last but not least, cleavage is kryptonite. Catnip. The sexual stimuli equivalent of the smell of cooking bacon. Ladies, I’m not sure if you understand this but cleavage is nearly irresistible for a man to not be drawn to and fixated by. You know how you’re annoyed when men fixate on your chest when you’re showing a little cleavage? Or stare at your backside when you’re bending over in hot anticipation of rear cleavage? Then you will be equally annoyed to know that the energy it takes to NOT stare at your cleavage renders us mentally void. 65% of our higher brain function in that context is devoted to NOT looking at your boobs and another 10% to maintaining eye contact. Energy expenditure also increases when required to form sentences that are coherent and germaine to the conversation at hand.

And as you know, cleavage isn’t selective so don’t be too offended when we unattractive, mediocre, broke ass fellas gawk. We’re just as testosterone driven as hunks, millionaires and professional athletes.

Gay men are no exception here. Do not be fooled. The only exception is socialitis. The social metabolism of gay men is on par with the fairer gender and therefore outward appearance and hygiene is pronounced.


Add Yours
  1. Really!?!

    Okay, let me just say that your blog is beyond funny!!! I just spent the last few minutes enjoying every bit of it!!! But, I have a question… what exactly should we “women” take from it? How can it be applied? Is it to just be understood that these 3C’s are essentials to men, or should we be putting this knowledge to good use in some profound way? (Of course, I’m assuming it’s the latter.) Moreover, as a “black woman” how should I apply this knowledge to my fellow black men?

    Now I will say this, I am currently dating a biracial brother at the moment. As a black woman, I am LOVING every bit of it. I mean, the early morning nature walks, the evenings out by the water… he loves being outside in the sun or night air. I can’t even begin to explain the INCREDIBLE sun tan I have already and it’s not even August yet. I just love the… dare I say it… “White boy” in him. I love the fact he is not obsessed with how he looks, although it is always “publicable”. I love the fact that we can drive with all the windows down and the sunroof open. The “outdoor smell” we acquire isn’t seen as gross to either of us. The adventure of it all is just GREAT! Now this is a true comparison to the average “black guy” that I have dated – and I mean average. It’s not always dinner and a movie and if we do happen upon such a night it’s at a spot that I’ve never been to and we are guaranteed to discuss the movie afterward (and not how slick the cars in it were). One Sunday, we did lunch at the harbor and had ice cream afterward which melted on his shorts but he didn’t get upset or act crazy. We both just laughed. I actually love the fact that he watches the Spike channel and doesn’t mind getting dirty be it working or playing.

    Now my average black brothers are a different story. They are not really adventurous and if they are it is coupled with flash. And FYI… being a “thug” is not the adventurous behavior I’m interested in. I am not a high maintenance chick, but I do like to throw on a dress most of the time. I enjoy looking and feeling feminine, but I don’t mind getting dirty or wet either. Trying to get some black men to realize that there are those of us like this out there is like driving into a brick wall. I may run from the bees, but I still want to go to the garden. Can you deal with that?

    Now, I will say I have noticed a large percentage of interracial couples lately – maybe it has something to do with my current situation. But, it’s mostly black man and white woman. Why is this? Do we as black women have such a horrible image? I am so tired of black guys trying to force me to be “mixed” or Dominican, or something that I don’t know what to do. I am 100% sister – twice removed. If my natural hair gets wet, it will look like a giant cotton ball on top of my head, but so what? I can rock a straight look, head wrap or braids, but as my sister said, “I am not my hair”. Why is a black man so much more worried about how I look than I am? Will he be embarrassed if my hair gets wet and begins to look nappy? What’s really going on? It can’t be that black woman are THAT terrible, loud, rude, argumentative, full of attitude, mean, fat, boring… what’s really the deal? Why can’t we seem to couple up? I have a lot of sisters that are just like me, down for the brothers and can’t find a mate to save them. What are your thoughts directly on this??

  2. garyarthuryoung

    Hey. Thank you much for this. For taking the time to read and leave a juicy comment.

    I’ll respond in full after I get home from work.

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