Tag Archives: john devore

Mind Of Man: Why Men Prefer “Innocent” Girls To “Whorey Slutosauruses”

This week’s column was inspired by a recent article on MarieClaire.com entitled “Why Men Prefer Innocent Girls To Bad Girls.”

The other day, some guys and I were chillaxing in my pal Josh’s sweet hot tub doing what guys do which is hang out and be real and we were discussing “innocent” girls versus “wang-hungry she-beasts.” Across the board, the guys agreed they prefer an “innocent” woman, like a nun or a coma patient or a 16-year-old girl, over a “bitch.” And then Josh was all “dude you got a boner” and everybody high-fived and a couple hours later we all put our clothes back on. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Why Frat Boys Are The New Hippies

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To those of you too busy reading about the historic uprisings in the Middle East, let me catch you up really quickly on the ongoing turmoil in the faraway country of Charlie Sheen. The millionaire sitcom star has been publicly self-destructing. Years of alleged substance abuse, marital problems and bizarre behaviors have, apparently, climaxed. Over the past week or so, he has seemingly divided like a cell into multiple versions of himself and simultaneously appeared on every live television talk show currently being produced. But like most modern celebrity scandals, the personal immolation we’re witnessing isn’t really about the vaguely human celebrity whose antics and flaws and outrageous moral lapses are beamed from dozens of differently shaped boxes directly to our brains. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Why You’re Not Married

The reason you’re not married yet is because I don’t really care why you’re not married and no one else does, either. Seriously, nobody cares. You shouldn’t care. Marriage isn’t a tiara. It’s not a ribbon to cut or one of those big novelty lottery checks. You don’t “deserve” a husband. You’re not Veruca Salt. You should be happy with whatever life gives you, because the only thing you truly “deserve” is a grave, although there just aren’t enough funeral pyres in these modern times. But I don’t want you to freak out. If you’re not married, or single, or unhappy, then life is working out as it should. No one has a right to happiness. As Americans, we only have a right to the pursuit of happiness. This explains why we love cars so much. The road trip is more important than the tourist trap. Enjoy the view. Roll down the window. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: How We Say “I Love You” (Without Actually Saying, “I Love You”)

In honor of Valentine’s Day, we’re rerunning the very first Mind of Man which originally was published in February 2008. It’s an oldie, but SUCH a goodie.

OK ladies, check it out: We love you. We love watching your sleeping face glow on our 150-thread count pillowcases. We love that mischievous glint in your eyes that says both, “You know what I’m thinking” and “You have absolutely no idea what I’m thinking.” We love that momentary moment of punch-drunkenness when we catch a whiff of a new fragrance that makes you smell like flowers. (And we don’t even like flowers. Doesn’t anyone realize flowers are just the clown genitals of the vegetable kingdom?)

So there you have it — we love you. Can we move on now?

We didn’t think so. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Snow Sucks When You’re Single

As I write this, the floating concrete mall known as Manhattan is experiencing a “wintery mix,” which is what happens when Old Man Winter has food poisoning. Walking to work this morning I got snow up my nose, elbowed in the fat wings by a grumpy Hobbit wrapped in scarves waiting for the subway, and went ankle deep in an enchanted ice puddle. It had to be enchanted, because I’m sure it laughed at me as I cursed. As a little kid, I was certain that snow was just God shaking a giant powdered donut over my house, but now that I am older, I know that snow is just Death’s dandruff. The winter is only enjoyed by Vikings, Tauntauns and people in relationships. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Why Men Cheat (The Abbreviated Version)

So long as love rides shotgun in your life, nothing can ever truly be that bad. It is the singular prize that trumps all others, the reward that sweetens every success. Truly, it is the hot fudge on the ice cream scoops of personal achievement. Now, excuse me while I puke a little in my mouth. Actually, I’m going to shotgun a cheap beer and play some Grand Theft Auto 4 to make amends for such an unforgivably cheeseball observation. More on love and rewards and, ZOMG, trust, after the jump…. Plus, a fable!

Keep reading »

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