The Daily Minutiae

It seems like I'm sneaking across the front lines in the dead of night every time I do, though.  The conviction!  Sometimes it almost feels like women think men get together and convene about what the next salvo of jerks we're going to send their way will be like.

This article I found today has me convinced that somewhere out there women have a two-word nomenclature for men.  It's probably in feminese or chicklish or some language every man wants to learn.  I just have to look a little harder, I guess.

The Homme Fatale (or grammatically correct, L'homme Fatal) is apparently manhood's answer to the age-old Femme Fatale stereotype.  The writer describes L'homme Fatal as just the opposite to its fatal female counterpart: intellectual, not necessarily attractive, self-effacing, but somehow still confident.  L'homme Fatal plays the emotional game, and rarely pushes for physical relationships, which, coupled with their typically boyish features and voice, makes them seem innocent. Once they're in, they wait a few months and then bail without a word.

The result?  A woman-devastating marvel with effectiveness somewhere between Russia's new conventional "father of all bombs" and a full-on T-850 series Terminator.

These new operatives in The Battle of the Sexes are reportedly very hard to detect.  They are normally flanked by a posse of women that would otherwise be out of their league, which can be mistaken for almost anything.  A relative, a gay friend, a boss, or even a sugar daddy.

You know, I don't think this is anything new.  We skinny runts have been around for ages.  I hate to say it, but women are finally just catching on.  First to go was the spousal abuser, and we can all agree that was for the better.  Then they went after the one-night stander.  And now the average dude looking for a pretty lady is under the gun.  [Enemy code name: emosogynist]

For L'homme, it is all looking very fatal.  Who knows?  Maybe one-night stands will be fairy tales for our grandchildren, which isn't a bad thing, only a sign of the times.

Yes, very fatal.

I am not one to divulge my blogspace to spreading Internet videos, but this one ... this one is a doozy.  I'm not entirely sure I frown upon what this man did, and the question comes up, "What would I do?"

The video explains it all.

To bad it was only a size 10.

Shiva?

But one this morning got me to thinking of an alarming trend.  The story tells of a 70-year-old Indian woman having her first child.  It says it fulfills the woman's dream of having a child she's had for a half a century.  

What's alarming is that this story doesn't surprise me one bit.  In fact, I call it mild.

An Indian man was highlighted on ABC some time ago for having a rare condition known as fetus in fetu, where a person develops in the womb alongside their twin.  But when the twin fails to form, it becomes absorbed into the other twin.  The result is a tumor-like growth these "hosts" carry with them until surgically removed.  The twin's fetus grows but never develops vital organs.  Believe it?

Sadly, on August 28 of this year, a baby Bangladeshi boy died three days after being born.  What's debatable was whether one boy or two boys died, as the child had two heads.

On a lighter note, a little Indian girl seems to be a happy kid --with her extra set of arms and legs.  Little word has come out recently about Lakshmi Tatma, the girl born with eight limbs, but from a 2007 article, things seem to be going well and she's all smiles.  I would be too, if I were considered the reincarnate of the Vishnu.  

These are all without including the countless children born with tails, of course.  One such case is this 2004-born Cambodian girl, whose tail has lifted her family out of poverty.  By charging roughly 50 cents to see her wondrous tail, the little girl has become the family's main breadwinner.  Her mother reportedly had a dream of an old man bringing her a baby monkey while she was pregnant with this "deity."

So the next question is, "What the hell is going on in Southeast Asia?"

To that, I have my well-constructed answer: "Nothing; we Americans just know how to keep our X-Men under wraps."