(Manneken Pis in Brussels)

Male Bloggers,

Let’s be honest with ourselves. Female bloggers are selfish. We write posts about issues that matter to them: body image, fashion, mommyblogging, breast cancer, etc. — but when it comes to OUR issues, they are strangely silent. How else do you explain the lack of outcry on this story from Norway — ?

The head of The Democrats Party, a splinter group of former Progress Party hardliners, Vidar Kleppe, is outraged that boys at Dvergsnes School in Kristiansand have to sit and pee.

Kleppe accuses the school of fiddling with God’s work, and wants the matter discussed at the executive committee level of the local council, newspaper Dagbladet reports.

“When boys are not allowed to pee in the natural way, the way boys have done for generations, it is meddling with God’s work,” Kleppe told the newspaper.

… [School Principal Anne Lise] Gjul told NRK (Norwegian Broadcasting) that the young boys are simply not good enough at aiming, and the point was to have a pleasant toilet that could be used by both boys and girls.

Can you imagine the humiliation that boys in Norway are going through? Why do we send troops to Iraq and not Norway? Is there anything more central to being a man than the joy of standing there, taking aim, and peeing? What boy wants to sit like a girl?

No wonder why Europeans are turning into a bunch of wusses.

I believe this is another step towards world domination by feminists. Does it surprise you that it it is School Principal ANNE Lise Gjul who is destroying the manliness of Norwegian men, a country once so famous for it’s virile men that a song was written about them — Norwegian Wood?

Pretty soon, I fear that men will be put into metal cages and President Hillary Clinton will sign a bill enabling women to marry their vibrators.

“Do you, Susan, take this pink vibrator…”

I say, enough is enough.

It isn’t our fault that we can’t aim very well.

Years ago, when men were really men, we used to shoot animals with bows and arrows and guns. We achieved our aiming skills through ACTION. Now “feminists” have decided that “hunting” and “killing” are bad for society. Is it any wonder we piss on the seat? Mothers teach their daughters about having their first period. Fathers DO NOT teach their sons how to pee.

I love you, Dad, but you really failed me in that respect.

Men, as a minority in this Dooce-worshipping female world of the personal blogger, I say it is time to turn back the clock. I want you, whether you or at home or at work, to STAND UP — Yes, right NOW, stand up, proudly walk to the bathroom, pull down your zipper with a sense of purpose, and take a PISS! Take that PISS standing up! Feel the cool Fall air. Listen to the sound the water, so much like the mighty Colorado River. Feel a bond with men throughout history — Abraham Lincoln, Alexander the Great, Douglas MacArthur — all men who urinated standing up. Yes, even Adam peed standing up in the Garden of Eden. Shout it out loud, “I am a man and I take a PISS standing up!”

You’re a man, for god sakes. Pee like one!

P.S. –

Neil’s Penis: Right on, Neilochka! That was so inspirational. Finally, you got some balls.

Neil: Thanks, Penis.

Neil’s Penis: Hey, how about tonight we go over and say hello to those two pretty roommates who moved in next door. Maybe we can **#$@ both of them in the $$%&, then *%$#* until the morning.

Neil: Are you crazy? “Lost” is on tonight!

Neil’s Penis: (sigh)

UPDATE –

Talk about feminists taking over European society! It seems as if the statue of Manniken Pis (little boy peeing) wasn’t good enough being Brussel’s long-time city’s trademark. In 1987 this statue of a girl urinating (Jeanneke Pis) was erected on the east side of the Impasse de la Fidélité / Getrouwheidsgang (Faith Alley), a narrow dead-end street some 100 metres long leading northwards off the restaurant-packed Rue des Bouchers / Beenhouwersstraat (Butchers’ Street). Now parents tell little boys that they have a “choice” over which method is more appropriate, but usually add that “George Bush, Ugly Americans, and “bad men” pee standing up and “peace-lovers” sit like a woman.”

Rachel Kramer Bussel (no relation to Neil Kramer) writes a popular sex column for the Village Voice called “Lusty Lady.”  A couple of weeks ago, she wrote an article that was controversial in feminist circles.  The piece was titled “F***ing and Feminism”.   In the article, Ms. Bussel criticizes feminists for their ideological views on sex, one which pooh-poohs women doing anything “submissive” to men, such as giving them oral sex, getting bikini waxes, or enjoying being ”spanked.”

Ms. Bussel disagrees with these humorless feminists, and makes the distinction of being seen as a sex object and CHOOSING to be one.

“I may like to get spanked until I scream, but I still deserve to be treated as an intelligent human being. Submitting sexually doesn’t equal becoming a doormat outside the bedroom.”

As a non-judgemental person, I nodded in agreement.  If a woman wants to be spanked, why not?  That doesn’t mean she can’t be a nuclear scientist or get equal pay for equal work.   Of course, if ALL she wanted to do all night was get spanked, I might wonder about some of her “personal issues,” but I would still recommend her to friends if she was a good neurologist.

What I found most interesting about the article was when Ms. Bussel talked about men’s sexuality:

“Men are also unfairly judged—as brutish horndogs selfishly out to get as much sex as they can. The truth is, they’re confused and constrained by the “macho” role too.”

She went on to talk about the desires of men that “aren’t sanctioned by popular culture,” such as wearing women’s panties, getting tied up, and kinky stuff even I don’t want to write in cyberspace.  These kinky men are frustrated, because they are afraid of telling their women about it.  What if their girlfriends/wives laugh at them, or worse, lose all sexual interest in them as men?

The great irony to it all was — as I was reading this — I was wearing women’s panties.

Yes, I did just say that.   I was wearing women’s panties. 

You expect complete candor and honesty when you come to Citizen of the Month, and damn it — you’re going to get it!  If you want to take me off your blogroll right now, let it be so.  I will not hide behind this facade anymore.

I will come “out” as a panty-wearing man as a public service to all men who want to express themselves in new and exciting ways.

This might come as a surprise to you, since I  normally seem pretty white bread. 

“Neilochka, why WERE you wearing women’s panties?” you might ask. 

Well, there is actually a story behind it.

Saturday night, Sophia and I went to a wedding.  It was a nice ceremony and romantic to see a couple so much in love.  During the ceremony, Sophia and I had a little discussion.  We decided that if we ever divorce and remarry, we’ll be each others’ best man/maid of honor.  Isn’t that cute?

The wedding had an “Italian” theme and the programs were all shaped like wine bottles.  The only glitch in the wedding was that the specialty wedding cake was decorated to look exactly like a large wheel of Italian cheese.  Unfortunately, people started slicing it up when they walked in, thinking it was an appetizer of real cheese.

Sophia and I danced for a large part of the evening.  It was a lot of fun.  We even re-danced the “first dance” from our own wedding — a swing dance to the Andrew Sisters’ Bir Mir Bis Du Shein.  Later that evening, we met a single woman who was by herself, so we invited her to dance with us.  Let me tell you — dancing with two women — that was as close to a threesome as I’m probably ever going to get, and it was hot!

Neil’s Penis:  (breaking in)   You can say that again!  Imagine what it would have been like to take the two of them upstairs and… (the rest is muzzled by Neil)

The next day, I got up early because the radio station was calling me at 7:45 AM for my “interview” about Mel Gibson.  After the interview, I was wired.  I suggested to Sophia that we go have some breakfast..   She agreed.

Now, remember — Sophia and I are separated and live in two different homes.   As I started to get dressed to go out, I realized I only had my underwear from last night.  After all my dancing, I was all sweaty, and I certainly didn’t want to put on the same pair of underwear. 

“Sophia, do you have any of my underwear around?”  I yelled.

“No, I think you took them all to New York.”

This was the trip we took to New York and the Berkshires several weeks back.  Which meant that most of my underwear were still in my luggage, sitting in my living room at the other apartment.

“I have no underwear!” I sobbed.

Now, in our past discussions on underwear, I learned that many of you like to go “commando,” which is an expression I had never encountered until I started blogging.   Let me just say, in the strongest terms possible, that I find going “commando” completely uncomfortable and unsafe.  God would not have created underwear if he meant man to be freely flopping all around like that — especially when there are dangerous zippers nearby, ready to snare their prey.

No, I would not go “commando.”

Instead, I went into Sophia’s bedroom, and sifted through her underwear drawer.  I pushed aside the thongs (how do women wear those things?) and the granny underwear (hey, I’m fashionable!), and tried to find something that was as close to a male brief as possible.  My closest choice was a cotton yellow brief with red trim, and ”I Love Curious George” written across the ass.  It didn’t fit perfectly; it looked like a small Speedo with Curious George’s face in front, but it would do until later.

And yes, I am still at Sophia’s right now  — and I am still wearing her panties!

I hope you realize how brave I am for telling you all this.  I hope this enables men all over the blogosphere to explore their own sexuality and not be afraid to experiment. 

Neil’s Penis:  Huh?  What the hell?  Where am I?  Sophia?

Neil:  No, Penis… it’s me.  I’m wearing Sophia’s panties.

Neil’s Penis:  No wonder I’m confused.  And there’s no window in here.  Are you trying to suffocate me?

Neil:  Sorry, Penis.

Neil’s Penis:  Dear reader, this tale is now complete.   Moral of the story — Neilochka is a total moron.  After dancing with the two women at the wedding, I was so horny, I was desperate to get into Sophia’s PANTIES.  But only an idiot like him takes it literally and actually GETS INTO HER PANTIES!!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Angelina Out Shopping

My most popular post is titled “Too Skinny” – about the too skinny Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie.  Weight and body issues are an important subject for many women, particularly young women who look up to these actresses and feel ashamed of their own bodies.     The average dress size of the American woman is size 14.  Women are beautiful in all sizes.  Luckily, there are advocates who can speak to women about the importance of being comfortable with their own body – someone like Oprah.   Did you know that only three women were on the Discovery Channel’s list of the Top 25 Greatest Americans:  Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, and… Oprah Winfrey?!  (TV Guide, June 26, 2005)

I spoke to my friend, Brenda, also known as New York City’s #1 Oprah Fan.  I was surprised to learn that Brenda’s not Oprah’s #1 Fan anymore.

"When Oprah was fat, all she talked about was being happy with who you are.  Once she got thinner, she changed her tune.  Now, she’s like a recovering alcoholic, berating people for being fat.   If only you exercised more, ate less, did everything right.   That, and have a personal trainer and chef at your disposal!"

OK, so maybe Oprah is no longer an advocate for women on this subject.   Surely there are others who take the fashion industry to task for only designing clothes for very skinny women.  Take Cathy Horne, the New York Times fashion critic.  She used to weigh 190 pounds.   Oh, but then she started to feel like a phony.  How could she write about fashion if she was couldn’t — oh my god — fit into the designer clothes she reviewed?

Unlike art or music or other fields that receive critical appraisal, fashion is visually as well physically expressive. It necessarily involves the body. And I had been using only my brain to evaluate clothes. Because I had little personal experience with the physical side of fashion: the fit, the movement, indeed the pleasure that it can give.

What led me to think about this and to question, at least retrospectively, my fitness for the job was that in the last eight months, after a decade of slowly inching downward, I have lost about 30 pounds and now weigh 137. For the first time since my early 20’s, I can wear a size 8. People in the industry have noticed and complimented me on the change. But the picture wouldn’t be clarified until I went to see Andy Port, a friend and editor at The Times Magazine, to ask if she thought there was an article in any of this.

"Oh, definitely," Andy said. "Especially given your job and the way the fashion industry views weight." She added, on the verge of a shriek, "I mean, just think how many times a designer, after getting a bad review from you, said, ‘That big fat bitch!’ "

Now, Cathy Horne is a happy and fulfilled woman.  It was the fat that was holding her back from being the ultimate fashion journalist.   As a writer, I can absolutely relate.    To better write this post about weight and women, I have gained 30 pounds and undergone a sex change operation.  

If there is going to be a strong advocate for women being happy with their own bodies, it must come from the feminist movement.  I remember how my Aunt Tilly used to go on marches with Bella Abzug and complain about the male dominated society.  What I didn’t know was that the Bella Abzug is as old school as Run-DMC. 

The representatives of the “third wave” of American feminism are Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards, writers of the well-received Manifesta:  Young Women, Feminism and the Future.  Baumgardner and Richards are popular speakers on college campuses.  They separate themselves from older feminists by saying its OK to dress pretty and flirt with boys.  On their own website, they give another reason for their popularity.

Jennifer and Amy agreed to visit the class. What a night. One student said afterwards, "It was wonderful how they didn’t look like feminists."

(photo by Ali Price)

I’m sure my Aunt Tilly would be the first to admit that Bella Abzug and Betty Friedan weren’t lookers.  And look how thin Jennifer and Amy are!  They look great!

Amy Richards also has an advice column titled “Ask Amy” on a feminist website.  Finally, we found a person who can help young women overcome their body issues.

Many years ago I used to get so many emails from girls saying: "I’m ugly, I’m fat, I hate my body." and I kind of towed the feminist line for a long time, which was: (saccharine voice) "Oh, that’s not true! It doesn’t matter what you look like! It’s what’s inside! You are a beautiful person!" And then I realized- first of all, when I would write that back to people they would, like, never write me back, ’cause I think they could just see through the phoniness.

In other words, the new answer is  “We’re feminists, but you’re fat.”