Someone actually posted this on a Mom's forum I am on, so I figured it may not run in the same circles of e-mail forwarding and whathave. I thought some of you would get a kick out of it. Not the most cleverly written, but the sentiment is amusing.

Fine.
This is the word women use to end an argument when
they are right and you need to shut up. No you cannot
be right so you might as well just leave her alone
until she speaks to you again.

Five minutes.
If she is getting dressed, this is half an hour or
more. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have
just been given 5 more minutes to watch the game
before helping around the house.

Nothing.
This is the calm before the storm. This always means
"something" and you should be on your toes. Arguments
that begin with "Nothing" usually end in "Fine".

Go ahead.
This is a dare, not permission. Don't do it. You risk
life and limb in pursuit of this and death may be
preferable in the end.

*loud sigh*
This is not actually a word but is a non-verbal
statement often misunderstood by men. A "Loud Sigh"
means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she
is wasting her time standing here and arguing with
you over "Nothing".

That's okay.
This is one of the most dangerous statements that
a woman can make to a man. "That's Okay" means that she
wants to think long and hard before deciding how and
when you will pay for your mistake. Possibly the
coroner will be able to identify your body after she
kills you.

Thanks.
A woman is thanking you. Do not question it or faint.
Just say you're welcome.

Send this to the men you know to warn them about
future arguments they can avoid if they remember the
terminology!

Oh, and before we forget "Whatever"...it's a woman's
way of saying "Are you really that stupid?" while she
looks for the most painful way to make you suffer a
slow and agonizing death.

I was sitting at my computer, doing my music selection for the evening and settling down to patrolling flames and (attempting) some posts. As I'm checking out VGcats hilarious comics, my girlfriend walks in and asks if we're going out tonight.

'Sure' I said.

She then asks where, who, when, etc. So its with my mates, we might hit Cardiff Union but we're definetly down the Woodville for befores. We have a quick laugh around, trying to adjust the schedule and open a bottle of white wine. After acting out some Spaced quotes (great comedy, Brian is by far one of the best characters ever) I'm glancing at Media Player while it plays Tenacious D and she asks:

'So, whats my theme for tonight?'

I'm trying to think of something witty, and I shrug. Maybe Wonderboy?

'You know, let me know because I have to get changed quick!'

Eeep. Whats she expecting here? Something dashingly romantic, or is she trying to set a mood? Foo fighters is what I like before going out.

'Tribute, because we'll be waiting for that song on the Dance floor and it'll never come.' (Tribute is a Ten-D reference to Stairway)

'No, really. Whats my theme here? I got to know NOW!'

How did I piss her off? I didn't do it!

'Barbie girl?'

'#### you! How am I supposed to dress up like barbie?'

'I don't know! Do what you want!'

'Be serious! This is important!'

'Leave me alone, woman.'

*whap*

Turns out, she was trying to figure out what 'theme' her clothing was meant to be. ####, if I had themes to my clothes they'd be 'work' and 'not work'. Apparently, these people have wardrobes for all occasions. If its not 'rocky' enough, its got to be 'dancy'. Everytime I suggest a skirt, she screams at me because I'm trying to freeze her legs. After this night, I'm just going to swear off suggesting clothes. Its alien territory.

Yhorian.