Completely Helpless

There is a man in my life, who will remain nameless, who frequently needs advice related to extremely mundane topics. Like, I’ll get a call asking, “I made this chicken on Monday night. Do you think I can still eat it?” I don’t know dude, is it slimy? Does it reek? No? Then…eat it. Or, “This milk is stamped July 5th. It’s the 7th, but it still seems fine. Do you think I can drink it?” Umm, taste it…sour? No? Drink it…

Got this email today. Title: Important question: Is Splenda bad for you?
“I ask because we have free drinks in the office (soda, juices, milk, etc.). One of the options is a bunch of different flavors of carbonated water (lemon-lime, black raspberry, kiwi strawberry, etc.). Anyway, it's only 5 calories because it's made with Splenda. I'm drinking like 2 or 3 of these things a day Because it makes me feel like I'm drinking something with caffeine in it, but I don't know if Splenda is bad?”

My response: Title: Important question: Are You Retarded?
I won’t write my response, but essentially, 1) Why would you think I am some sort of expert on the health effects of Splenda? And 2) Do you have access to Google? Oh and how about three – why does Splenda make you feel like you’re drinking something caffeinated anyway?

Men simply are not resourceful. I get lost, I ask for directions. You get lost, you have this pride and you will waste ½ hour driving around aimlessly to save it. I want to know if my milk is sour, I give it a little taste. You have to call someone to get their advice. I grab the butt pocket on your jeans and rip a little hole in them (oops) you think it’s the end of the world. I take them to a tailor and get them fixed. “They can do that???!!!” Yes, you can sew things that rip back together with thread and needle!!!

Without women would men still be living in caves, eating berries and leaves and stuff?