We need to talk about M.I.L.F.s.
Standing for Marry Into a Loving Family, M.I.L.F.s are women old enough to be one's own mother. Not to be confused with teen moms, who themselves are not be confused with grizzled slagheaps who happened to put their hair into ponytails to hide the clumps that got pulled out during the previous 3 scenes they filmed that day. But I'm digressing.
I've been helping set up the new Noah's Arc Museum, and not because I love arcs. I mean, I get seasick just by listening to the Beach Boys. But I'm on a mission here.
I'm trying to find love with the one demographic I've never tried: middle-class white baby-boomers. So far so good, but I noticed something about these women:
They hate pens and paper. They don't write shopping lists, they have maps yet don't put them in their cars, give them a checklist and if they actually use it, they will use specks instead of checkmarks as if ink is made from the blood of orphaned puppies or something.
They do things the stupid way for reasons of instinctive signaling, like a 12 year old boy who does stupid things because "what are you, chicken?" Only in this case it's "write things down? What am I, stupid?" All of them are Too Smart For Literacy.
Any redundancy is "overkill", which is assumed to be a bad thing in and of itself. Any preparation for imperfect results is "paranoid". Any attempt at problem-solving is an annoyance - you're supposed to show good humor by rolling with the punches. Especially if it's someone else who is getting punched.
This is usually just weird, but in this case we're trying to organize a model of the 8,700,000 species in existence, two of each, with hell to pay (literally!) if we don't check and make sure every couple is a male and a female.
(On a side note, I'm very impressed by amount and sheer variety of animals that have been shot and stuffed for this project. How you guys got around the endangered species laws, I won't ask!)
We can't have predators next to prey, we can't have anything that might cross-breed (interspecies sex creates monsters) and so on. I don't know how to politely state that the way these ladies kept track of knick-nacks in their attics is not up to the standards needed for an operation of this scale and consequence.
I tried to draw a map, but they say it's too complex because it doesn't use "left" and "right" and "you can't miss it".
I've been told that women like "confidence". "Confidence" is never defined, but it seems to involve being good at something, and knowing that you're good at it. I've done lots of organization and logistical work in my career. I don't like to brag....
So I don't. And here I am. Have you ever wondered what doormats wipe their feet on when THEY get home? Me. I'm what they wipe their feet on.
Standing for Marry Into a Loving Family, M.I.L.F.s are women old enough to be one's own mother. Not to be confused with teen moms, who themselves are not be confused with grizzled slagheaps who happened to put their hair into ponytails to hide the clumps that got pulled out during the previous 3 scenes they filmed that day. But I'm digressing.
I've been helping set up the new Noah's Arc Museum, and not because I love arcs. I mean, I get seasick just by listening to the Beach Boys. But I'm on a mission here.
I'm trying to find love with the one demographic I've never tried: middle-class white baby-boomers. So far so good, but I noticed something about these women:
They hate pens and paper. They don't write shopping lists, they have maps yet don't put them in their cars, give them a checklist and if they actually use it, they will use specks instead of checkmarks as if ink is made from the blood of orphaned puppies or something.
They do things the stupid way for reasons of instinctive signaling, like a 12 year old boy who does stupid things because "what are you, chicken?" Only in this case it's "write things down? What am I, stupid?" All of them are Too Smart For Literacy.
Any redundancy is "overkill", which is assumed to be a bad thing in and of itself. Any preparation for imperfect results is "paranoid". Any attempt at problem-solving is an annoyance - you're supposed to show good humor by rolling with the punches. Especially if it's someone else who is getting punched.
This is usually just weird, but in this case we're trying to organize a model of the 8,700,000 species in existence, two of each, with hell to pay (literally!) if we don't check and make sure every couple is a male and a female.
THIS. IS. JUST. WRONG:
We can't have predators next to prey, we can't have anything that might cross-breed (interspecies sex creates monsters) and so on. I don't know how to politely state that the way these ladies kept track of knick-nacks in their attics is not up to the standards needed for an operation of this scale and consequence.
This is what it's supposed to look like:
But this is what it actually looks like:
But this is what it actually looks like:
I've been told that women like "confidence". "Confidence" is never defined, but it seems to involve being good at something, and knowing that you're good at it. I've done lots of organization and logistical work in my career. I don't like to brag....
So I don't. And here I am. Have you ever wondered what doormats wipe their feet on when THEY get home? Me. I'm what they wipe their feet on.
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