Home » Blog » They don’t call me God’s Gift to Women for nothing (I have to pay them)
Ballz we want

They don’t call me God’s Gift to Women for nothing (I have to pay them)

man - god´s gift to women
Photo: Shutterstock

Gods Gift to women. Yep. That’s me. Every girl’s dream.

Fat, foul, dirty, ill-mannered, loud, arrogant, over-sexed, boring, selfish, inconsiderate, lazy and unemployed. It’s a package that attractive, intelligent women just cannot seem to resist. Don't ask me why.

I’ve had these same disgusting personal characteristics all my life, yet I’ve been womaned-up pretty well constantly since I was in high school. And through no fault of my own. There is no Tau of Dennis. No mojo. And there’s no overwhelming mental power (which must be obvious if you read this column regularly.)

It’s a total mystery. I just sit around reeking and burping in my quivering rolls of fat and beautiful, well-educated, otherwise intelligent women seek me out. (Perhaps by smell alone) And stay with me for years.

Maybe it’s gravity. Possibly I’ve been so fat for so long that I have generated my own gravity field and pull these women, unwillingly, into orbit around me, with no action required on my part except simply to exist. The ultimate chick magnet.

Not likely, but what is it that does impress women? What is it that makes women weak in the knees when they look at one man and weak in the stomach when they look at another?

Men certainly don’t know and if women do they have managed to keep it a secret for millennia.

Men don’t even understand why women like to be given flowers. Why in the world would any intelligent human being want a handful of dead vegetation? It’s totally beyond us. But we’ve heard rumours that women do like getting flowers so we buy them flowers. In fact we’re so convinced that this strange bit of magic will work that there is now a multi-billion dollar flower industry. And the customers are all men, who do not like flowers themselves, but are desperately trying to impress  woman.

In my globe trotting advertising career, I have actually sold refrigerators to Eskimos, I’ve sold sun tan oil to Zulus and I’ve sold English tea in China. And very successfully too. Because I know why an Eskimo man buys a fridge. I know why a Zulu man buys sun tan oil. And I know why a Chinese man buys English Tea. They do it for one reason and one reason alone – they do it to impress a woman.

They don't know, and I don’t know, why a woman would be impressed with any of these things. As far as we’re concerned, they are all as mysterious as flowers. Mysterious but effective. Why do fish like dew worms?  But billions of innocent dew worms are sacrificed every year in often successful attempts to catch fish. Why do deer never look up and see fat guys in red vests with rifles, sitting in trees drinking beer? We don’t know. But we sit up there, year after year and, more often than not, bring a dead deer home.

The fact is, when on the hunt, we’ll try almost anything.

Guys in Africa will turn up at their beloved’s hut with a herd of goats. Guys in China will keep throwing money in the bride to be’s doorway until the family is overwhelmed and finally agrees to the price. Guys in western countries will put themselves into debt for years to buy their beloved a tiny, shiny rock.

Men will try anything that has even the slightest possibility of working. No matter how outlandish it seems.

As usual, of course, I don’t have to resort to these crude methods. I alone know the answer. I have solved the mystery. If you want to attract and keep a beautiful, attractive woman, just become fat, foul and obnoxious. Like me.

It won’t be easy. You don’t get like this overnight. But the rewards can be stunning.

I was fat, foul and obnoxious when I met my wife and in the 35 years we’ve been together, I’ve gotten steadily fatter, fouler and even more obnoxious. And she’s still here.

I love her and want her to stay another 35 years, so I guess I have to give her even more of God’s Gift. I have to get even fatter, Even fouler. And even more obnoxious.

Boy. The things we do for love, eh

Drop a comment

comments