the Crocodile Women....

I’ve always had this fascination about women.

At times, I think they are soft, gentle and sweet… almost to the point of being vulnerable and defenseless. They have this way of making you feel like it’s your duty to be protecting them, holding out doors for them, and running in the rain to fetch the car for them. Something about the way they flick their hair, smile at you and say “Would you please do this for me? “….. And all you can do is oblige. Something about their seemingly petite bodies and sweet faces tend to take you off guard.

Other times, you really feel like you DON’T want to be messing with them. Whether it’s PMS, or a bad hair day, or they’re just feeling particularly bitchy that day, IT’S ALWAYS YOUR FAULT. There is no winning an argument against a woman who’s pissed off.

I mean….. catch a woman on a wrong day, and gone is the sweet exterior… and out comes Medusa, with a full lock of snake hair.. and fangs so long and sharp it’d put Dracula to shame. She has many weapons; bitching, nagging, crying, shouting, silence… and if need be…infliction of physical pain. Different women have different levels of mastery of these skills… and they deploy these methods in varying degrees of intensity depending on what is most effective in any given situation.

Don’t bother trying to confirm this with any women. Some will deny it outright, others aren’t even aware because it comes so naturally to them, they aren’t even conscious about it. Women’s instinct; they always know how to get you by the balls.

Men are usually defenseless in the face of a combination of any 2 of the above methods. But some of our defenses include our unusually thick skulls and small ears. Our brains are well insulated for our protection…..… against you. That’s why we never seem to hear when you talk, cry, shout or nag. And padded groin guards… in case the verbal abuse doesn’t work and you decide a kick in the balls is in order. Unfortunately, there is no defense against the silent treatment. But that’s why we invented football and ESPN.

I have a favourite metaphor I like using when describing some women. It’s that of alligators & crocodiles. No, it’s not about how scary they look without make up (although in some cases, it just may be true). It’s on their character really. You see, crocodiles have a general bad reputation of being literal man eaters… vicious, cunning, opportunistic, aggressive... and just generally nasty nasty little buggers so ancient they’ve outlived the dinosaurs. But crocodiles are quite misunderstood. Despite being cold blooded creatures (ahem..) they are actually very loving and protective creatures…. To their own kind that is. They are the way they are because it’s what they need to do to survive. Crocodiles are fiercely protective over their eggs and hatchlings….. and probably one of the best mothers around. If you want to pay your mom a complement.. buy her a card with an alligator picture. (Just remember to explain it to her, else she think you think her as an old, scaly and cold blooded monster). A crocodile will risk life and limb and chomp up anything that stand between it and the safety of the things it holds dear… things like boyfriends and husbands… oopps.. I mean.. eggs and hatchlings. So ya… at the risk of further raging fury from any female reader, I’ll say this; women are like crocodiles… and I mean that… in the NICEST way. You’re guaranteed 100% safety, protection and tender loving care so long as you’re ‘part of the pack’ as it were… But if you’re NOT, then you’re pretty much lunch… and God help you in your quest.

I’ve never met two women who are alike despite initial looks and appearances. If you’ve met a hundred different women, then there ARE a hundred different puzzles to solve. And unlike those cool jigsaw puzzles that come with the main picture so you at least know what it’s SUPPOSED to look like, there IS NO KNOWING this puzzle until it’s complete, by which time, it’s too late to return the box brader….. Don’t bother trying to generalize or categorizing them or *gasp*… figure them out. Just like other great mysteries of the world like quantum physics and the theory of relativity, the female psyche is something man will never be able to figure out. As soon as we figure one woman out, we realize that there are rules and exceptions applicable for every different woman, in every difference circumstances, for different times of the month. The more you try to understand them, the more complicated it gets…

It’s intriguing to just see how vastly different women can be. Some like strawberry ice cream, others like After Eight Chocolate mint. Some turn into vicious-spawn-from-hell during their PMS while others breeze through it… Some want red roses and romantic dinner, others want your cash and credit card. Some like it when a man takes charge, pays the bill and opens doors for them, others scare the shit out of you and harass you into chauffeuring them around and repairing their toilets. Some can never wait to tie the knot and have half a dozen kids, others would poke you in the eyes and kick you in the balls before you can spell.. B.A.B.Y. Some are complete prudes, who insist cocks are those furry animals that run on two legs that wake you up in the mornings. (but then again, men DO tend to be horny in the mornings, so maybe they were right. lol). Others are complete nymphomaniacs, needing no less than 5 cocks…. I mean… men per session every other night just to stay satisfied. There are such women, I kid you not. Browse around the Singaporean and (to a lesser extent) Malaysian blogosphere and you’ll find it in no time (I’m not posting any links, so you’re going to have to ask me). Geez… the things they do make the things I write look like kindergarten level stuff man……..

Anyway,

The point I’m so painstakingly trying to make is…. There is no figuring women out. Not as a whole anyway. Maybe you can truly figure one WOMAN out… but it still takes time… and you have to do it, person to person. But even figuring one woman out would probably take almost a lifetime (yes they’re THAT complicated sophisticated) and you do only have one lifetime. Quite a quandary isn't it? Here’s the secret;

I read somewhere… that in order to live with a man; you have to love him a little, but try to understand him a lot. In order to live with a woman; you have to try to understand them a little, but love her A LOT.

I’m pretty sure it was just a joke.. but somehow, it sounded quite profound to me. What do you think?

Cheers!