Personally, I’m Not All That Saddened to Have Underdeveloped ‘Female Skills.’

picture of vintage black and white woman in kitchen cooking

I can’t bake. I do a piss-poor job of following recipes, which makes me a great cook, but an awful baker. And so what? I like to be creative, and baking often doesn’t meet my creative needs.

Know what I can do? Change a spare tire (with ONE ARM! It’s true, and a story for another time). Repair a dryer. Swim across the lake at my cottage in half an hour. Kick ass and take names in a game of Balderdash. Do CPR. Power wash a deck. Light a furnace. Teach almost anyone how to ski. Mix a mean drink. And Microsoft Office Suite is my bitch.

So I don’t take too kindly to the suggestion that my inability to bake, cook a roast, or drive a manual car somehow takes away from my …

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How Skinny Jeans, Lattes and Feminists Murdered the Marlboro Man

Masculinity started its downward spiral sometime around when that harlot and presumed feminist, Eve, convinced poor old gullible Adam to eat the apple. I mean, after Michael kicked them out of Eden, it was all sharing feelings and antiquing and man purses.

But even though masculinity has always been on the decline, its most feared opponent — skinny jeans — has sent manhood into an all-out death spiral.

So says Jane Gilvary of The Bulletin: Philadelphia’s Family Newspaper.

Jane begins her article with the following strange and more-than-slightly-homophobic diatribe:

Despite what feminists might argue, real men don’t wear skinny jeans. Real men also don’t wear V-neck tees, or accessorized scarves, and they avoid purple and pink like the plague. The mere idea of a pedicure or waxing makes a real man nauseous. If a woman hangs out with this kind of girly-man routinely, it’s only because she wants to share his wardrobe and his non-fat caramel macchiato. A woman can’t imagine a man reloading his double barrel shotgun or chopping wood when he’s donned in Donna Karan and drinking an Appletini. Men were meant to wear rugged Wranglers, leather jackets and boots, like they belong in a James Dean movie and not an episode of “Will & Grace.”

We feminists just love ruining things for those cross-stitching, pie-baking “real women” who want their men sweaty, hairy and gassy. Need I remind Jane that many of the men Grace actually dated were not scarf-wearing, latte-sipping “quasi-queers,” but the very manly-men that she describes? The point of Will and Grace was that Will and Jack were actually gay — not her metrosexual boyfriends.

I am so endlessly sick of the “decline of masculinity” argument. Masculinity will be on the decline when men, on average, make less money than women. Masculinity will be on the decline when “paternity leave” isn’t considered silly. Masculinity will be on the decline when the phrase “You throw/hit/drive like a girl” is no longer an insult. Masculinity will be on the decline when the United States has had 45 female Presidents. And even if masculinity is declining — and it’s not — studies prove that even the very metrosexuals that Jane fears get chosen for jobs over female candidates.

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Diane Halliday’s Bakery Business Set Up of Necessity … but Has Flourished into Something More

photo of baker diane halliday

When her family’s sheep farm—and consequent livelihood—was struggling twelve years ago then put into serious jeopardy following the 2001 foot-and-mouth outbreak, Diane Halliday realized that she was going to have to find a way to help support her family.  While her husband Tony took on landscaping and masonry work, Diane decided to give baking a try.  This venture, Country Fare Bakery, born from necessity, has become a passion and love to Diane, her family, and her entire community.

So how exactly did this happen? From the Daily Mail:

‘This was before the idea of farmer’s markets took off. But at the time, the Rural Women’s Network was encouraging farmers’ wives to find ways to bring in extra money. A friend started making jams and chutney to sell. So I thought I could have a go and sell a few cakes.

‘I can remember the panic when I was invited to go to the first market at Appleby. I was childminding to help supplement our income and I had all these children to look after. I spent the evenings making fruitcake, gingerbread and biscuits and it was well worth the effort. On market day, I sold out by lunch time.’

At first, Diane only sold cakes at markets every weekend but as word spread, it wasn’t long before the farmhouse was overrun by cakes.’After a year of cooking in my kitchen, I decided to give the child-minding up and expanded the kitchen into the old washhouse.
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Lame Commercials: Hardee’s Says, “Guys Don’t Bake.”

Anyone catch the new Hardee’s commercial yet featuring, uh, men and NASCAR and the fact that “guys don’t bake”?

I’m not sure if Hardee’s is a regional thing or not, and maybe you guys haven’t even seen it yet, so I’m pleased to present to you one of the most type-casted, unoriginal commercials I’ve ever seen. This commercial was so silly it hardly ruffled any feathers. It actually kind of made me laugh, because the crux of the commercial ties cooking to a woman’s hobby, or better, “duty,” and naturally, any man engaging in such alpha male-blasphemy was automatically womanized and cast out of his man-group as a pariah.

Call me the odd one out, but I think men who can cook (and enjoy it!) are pretty damned attractive. I know the old adage claims that the way to man’s heart is through his stomach, but I can definitely state that the way to this girl’s heart is definitely through food. Cook for me … and I will love you forever.

Come on, guys. Is cooking really that all that wimpy or are commercials simply becoming more and more redundant as both womens’ and mens’ interests begin melding into one another? Three words, as far as I’m concerned: Grasping. at. straws.



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