Monday, February 07, 2005

men buy. women shop.

It's been about a month flat since my last post, but I blame that squarely on work. Having used up all my brain juice I can't quite understand why any writer who earns a living by wordsmithing would possibly be rajin enough to blog regularly.

Stupidity must be airborne. I can only rationalise it as a global pandemic of epileptic proportions. Ladies, for goodness' sake don't let your balak dress in blue and yellow while shopping at Ikea. Even if he insists, carry your own Ikea bag. The identities of those pictured have not been concealed to protect the incompetent.

Women, it seems can not be content walking out of any retail outlet without having driven the national GDP up a smidgen. Returning empty handed from a shopping excursion is a minor tragedy. Analyzing the roots of our anthropology, I attribute this to our primal functions whereby men hunt, and women forage.

Men hunt.
Man would be content with any meat he's able to put on the table come dinner time. After all, having killed his game I doubt he'd be inclined in any way to go out hunting for another for the simple reason that the deceased's fur did not colour-coordinate with the gravy.

Women forage.
Today as millenia ago, women foraged without any clear purpose or objective. While oft claiming to be the superior species, women have yet to realise that randomness ultimately leads to discontentment. Men have already discovered the enlightened path. Hence, returning home empty handed meant no berries with which to brew a gravy that colour-coordinates with the catch of the day.

Fast-forward to the future, where the survival of mankind no longer depends on the hunting and foraging abilities of men and women. The primal urges, however, remain embedded somewhere in the subconscious of the human mind.

Women still embark on shopping excursions in hope of finding "that". That elusive item always seen in the minds eye, yet seldom realised on the shelf. More often that not, "that" will remain elusive, and women continue to fret.

A man, on the other hand will get what he needs to get, and he knows where to get it. IT, not THAT. No fuss, no fretting. No need to colour-coordinate. Attempts to do so often end up as pictured above.

And that concludes my intellectual discourse. Men buy, women shop.


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