First:
Yes. I drive like an asshole. I'm always going to drive like an asshole. I have no other means of imposing my will on other people since society made it illegal to punch people. So now I have to drive like it's a deathrace. Don't try to take that away from me. You won't.
Second:
Beer and a really good sandwich truly does make me happy. If you see me eating this, and you ask me if I'm happy, I'll say "yes". I'm not being coy. I truly am happy. Also, please stop talking and asking me if I'm happy, as you're ruining the moment.
Third:
You really don't need to get prettied up for bed, or put on all kinds of make-up, or wear fancy lingerie. All I need you to do is show up and say "do whatever you want". Anything beyond that is gilding the lilly.
Fourth:
Stop asking me what I'm thinking about. Generally, it's nothing. I mean that literally. It's a practised man skill to make the mind go blank. It's a very pleasant experience too, for men. And you ruin it when you ask me questions and make me fill up my head with stuff I could answer you with. So don't try to understand me by probing for my deepest thoughts. If you could, you would see I'm mostly concerned with the following: sex (how to get more, and better), food (how to get more and better), money (how to get more, and better). That's about it.
Fifth:
Just because your friend has a husband my age, doesn't mean I want to hang around with the guy. I get it - you're hard-wired to make friends with other women and love talking to them, and whatnot. I'm glad for you. Go to it! Have you little gab fests with your girlfriends...saves me from having to do it. But just because Janie is married to some schulb who used to play football in high school, doesn't mean I automatically am going to like him, and want to have deep couples conversations with all of them. Janie's husband probably feels the same about me. Men don't really want to do this kind of stuff. Please stop trying to make us do it. We'd much rather let you go to your friend's house for a few hours and eat a sandwich at home, with a beer, and watch a Stallone movie.
Sixth:
Stop trying to come up with creative ways to spend time with us. We think we spend enough time with you already. Leave us alone. If we get lonely, we'll find you. Can't you go make some friends who you can talk to about whatever you're thinking about? We're not really hardwired that way. You know how the cat only comes to see you when it wants its ears scratched or needs to be let out or wants food, and other than that, pretty much keeps to itself? Yeah, I'm like that too.
Seventh:
Whatever magazine you read, that tells you we like romantic comedies...well, I'd like you to burn it. Men hate romantic comedies. All of them. We go to them, because we think you'll have sex with us if we do. That's it. So if you make us watch one, and don't give it up, then you just watched your last romantic comedy with us. Expect us to dig in our heels big time on this one. Lots of guys out there would rather get punched in the nuts than watch another one. We encourage you to watch these on your own, then go see your girlfriends, and tell them all about it. We'll be at home watching a Stallone movie. Again. And notice how we don't beg you to watch said Stallone movies with us? We know you hate them, and we're listening to you (despite your fervent protests that we never listen to you). Why won't you listen to us?
Eigth:
Yes, we think about threesomes with you and your friend. Sorry. That's just the way we roll. If you ask us, most times we'll lie. But sometimes we'll test you and say "yes". Don't be so naive as to be shocked.
Ninth:
Yes, we can hang around with a bunch of our guy friends for five hours and drink. And you'll ask us what we talked about, and we'll say "oh, not much". And that's true. We don't talk about our deep feelings, or our marriage, or our kids, or our career aspirations, or our goals in life, or love, or any of that shit. We talk about hockey, and football, and farting, and which restaurant makes great wings, and that time we got in a fight in high school, or why the boss is a dick, or that time we got kicked in the nuts, or why ESPN needs to fire/not fire Chris Berman. Also, we talk about who brought the beer, and why they're louses for not bringing more of some other kind of beer, then we make fun of him and roast him all night because of it. That's about it. Frankly, we could have spent 10 hours doing that, but we know you want us to come home to watch that stupid romantic comedy you rented, after which, we hope to have sex. Or at bare minimum, a really good sandwich that you made.
Tenth:
We don't care about duvets. Or curtains. Or towels. Or placemats. Or linens. Unless you're wrapped in one and naked underneath it, we don't give a shit about it. We grumble under our breath about you spending money on this stupid stuff, because if we open up about it, you'll just get angry and not have sex with us. But please, don't ask us to like it (this definitely includes shopping for it). We'll have to lie. We don't come home excited to show you the new fishing rod we bought, or the new set of golf balls we picked up, or the new hammer drill we bought. We're smart enough to know you don't care. Why can't you do the same?
Eleventh:
We don't like going to the mall. Ever. Unless there's a giant fishing pond in the middle of the mall, and we can go fishing in it. Or maybe a bike show. But other than that, we hate the place. Know why we went there when we were kids? To meet girls. We have you now. We have no more use for the mall. Please don't bring us there. You know how the dog whines and pisses itself when it knows it's going to the vet? We want to do the same when you drag us to the mall. We know you're going to go. We know you're going to spend way too much money on stupid stuff there. We get it. We married a woman, and we knew full well all women do this, so we're not stupid. Just don't rub our noses in it by bringing us along with you. We'd much rather wait in the car and listen to the radio and have a smoke while you're in there.