Chivalry is severly maimed and on life support

Chivalry is dead. There, I’ve opened with a cliché. Now put a sheet down over the carpet, because I’m about to lay this thing out and it could get messy.

Here are a few tips on being a gentleman. Let’s look at the word though, Gentle – Man. You take the raw testosterone of being a kill-a-bear-with-a-big-rock man and refine it, add some class, something smooth... you take those rugged good looks and sharp wit and pour it over ice like a fine cognac.

If you’ve never helped a woman with something heavy, opened a door for someone, let someone else get served before you because they were waiting longer or general stopped being a completely self-centred fuckwit for 5 minutes, I need to ask a favour. Get sterilised. Or move to the US. Just get the hell away from the normal people until you learn one tenth of being a gentleman. What follows is a brief summary of some of the finer points of being a modern gentleman:

Opening the door for her – In these modern times of gender equality and lesbians, it might be a bit difficult to figure out if the short-haired, overall wearing, crotch-grabbing individual walking towards you is an under-developed teenager or a kid with bitch-tits and awful clothes. Ok, that’s not the point but it just bugs the crap out of me sometimes. Rule of thumb: can’t tell, don’t ask. Boy or girl, pregnant or fat, ironic or actually-that-stupid. This applies to all of the above. ...What was I saying? Right.

Opening the door for her (really this time) – how hard is it to open a damn door? No-one is in so much of a rush that they can’t hold a door for a woman (regardless of age, 18 or 80). Don’t expect a thank you for it, that’s like expecting presents on your birthday: it should happen, but you’re not about to whine and complain if it doesn’t. I’ve had women snap at me saying “I’m a grown woman! I can open my own doors!” I’m sure she was on her way to her smashing the glass ceiling and raging against the constraints of some kind of man-spiracy, but that’s in the minority. Most of the time opening a door for someone else is a clear demonstration of a thoughtful person. You’re demonstrating that you aren’t self-centred and have thought about the people around you for more than a couple of seconds, you’re also demonstrating a basic grasp of the mechanical concept of a “door handle” which some people still seem to struggle with. This is also a great way to break the ice with a pretty girl or find out if a granny has a hot female relative your age (I once got set up with a cute little thing because I gave her mum a jump-start in a rainy car park one afternoon).

Get your wallet out – If you’re a gentleman you are master of your finances, regardless of how large or small. Managing your money is important; don’t go to fancy, expensive bars and restaurants if you’re living on a uni student’s poverty budget. In any case, buy a girl a drink, not because she thinks she deserves it, but because you’re a generous soul and understand that a happy friend or a smile from a pretty girl is worth more than a few dollars in your pocket. What were you going to spend that money on anyway? Another beer for yourself? Whether you’re out with friends or on a date, spend a little extra, buy the girl a cocktail, pick something from the top shelf. Be generous. Why? Because you work hard and earn enough that you have a little left over to share (if you don’t work hard and earn enough to share, go change that). A friend on your side is worth more than a dollar in your pocket.

Drink a proper drink – A Gentleman has taste. Jim Beam & Cola in a can is not taste. That’s mass produced crap that you’re struggling to digest. Even Fred Booker Noe III (7^th generation Jim Beam Distiller) considers Jim Beam Black Label to be the entry level Jim Beam product (White Label is a watered down version to reduce sales tax). He’s a man that knows a lot about bourbon, but isn’t so blind as to accept nothing else. I had the pleasure of attending a bourbon tasting presented by the legend himself and he spoke of scotches and rums he enjoyed as well, not just the bourbon he produces. An honest and balanced opinion. That said, occasionally try something from the top shelf, or just a step up from the basics. You’ll be amazed at the difference between a house scotch and something that might cost and extra 20%. You might also develop a more refined palate and a bit of sophistication. Don’t be fooled, no-one was born appreciating fine wine, liquor or art, it’s something that is developed. In any case, if you’re going to be a man of the world you should experience more than basics. Drink beer other than the stuff on tap at your local or on special in the retail liquor chain. Look for something unique and different. Learn something new about it, even if it’s just that absinthe cause’s loss of memories and eyebrows.

These are three little tips to try in modern life, two of them can be precticed in a bar! You really have no excuse not to try this. i don't care if you're a mormon and can't drink. You're already going to hell for laughing at the stuff I write. Bottoms up!

Being a Modern Gentleman isn’t easy, but it’s different. And that seems to be what so many people are looking for these days. Something other than the same crap you see out every weekend, the same drinks, the same shirts, the same hair, the same fights. It might be worth trying a different path for a while. This one isn’t currently having a dozen vodka-lime-and-soda’s spewed onto it.

-Worst Guy Ever

If I Keep Drinking They Might Shut Up

I should be dead right now. It’s true, various cancer council groups, family-friendly researchers and a whole gaggle of finger-pointing fun-haters are all baffled by my seemingly unbelievable ability to form words at all. I should have developed a dozen kinds of cancer, heart disease, kidney failure, liver cirrhosis, brain damage and jaundice. By no small miracle I appear to be fine. Yup, still got a pulse, just checked it then. Liver? Currently straining a pint quite nicely.

Now you might be a little confused as to what kind of affliction could possibly mean I should be suffering from such a selection of near/rapidly nearing death experiences. Have I been snorkelling in the lovely glowing reefs downstream from Japan’s happy-go-lucky Fukushima nuclear power plant? Did I suddenly develop a terminal case of being 65 or older? Perhaps I’ve taken up a job testing suspicious substances found by the post office by snorting the lot of it with the force of a jet engine. No sadly, it’s nothing so glamorous or welfare-friendly.

I’ve been drinking. Alcohol in fact, all kinds of it; Beers, spirits, wine, and a wide variety of cider too. I’ve mixed energy drinks with alcohol, I’ve knocked back shooters, bombs, test-tubes, jelly shots, chazwuzzers and quite a few drinks that require you douse their flames before you drink them. I have engaged in “high risk” drinking activities (as described by someone’s mum as having more than 6 standard drinks in one night). I called that pre-drinks before heading out. Hell, some days that was just how I got ready to go to work! Various health groups would see these activities outlawed, some of them already are.

There’s a bit of truth behind the argument that “there wouldn’t be a law to stop people doing this if they didn’t want to do it”.

I’ll admit it, I have considered it a “good idea at the time” to start an evening/afternoon/morning off with a few pints of champagne, vodka and cider (um, yeah, all in the one glass). It went down a fizzy little treat and I have to say made an excellent basis for the black-out party that occurred for the rest of the night inside my head. By all accounts I was charming, well-mannered and a great dancer. I felt like death the next day but I’m fairly certain I hadn’t been murdered or died of alcohol poisoning, much to the shock and disbelief of certain parts of the media.

I have injuries from drinking, many through stupidity, and some from a big Maori who didn’t like me judging by the scars. That’s right, I’m part of the statistics, I wouldn’t say I got into a fight out drinking. That would be inaccurate. I’d say I got the crap kicked out of me while I was drunk. I’m not upset, I got into more fights in school than in bars yet I don’t see a government push to ban fifteen year-olds. Drinking injuries are the same as bike riding/skateboarding/chair-racing or sexing injuries. You learn from them and improve over time. Failure leads to learning, you can’t have one without the other.

So why are we stopping them? Why is it becoming illegal for bars to sell people shots, or bombs, or giant cocktails served in a fishbowl? I’ll answer this in two parts:

Part one: Because people want to drink. They want to drink shots, or large crazy cocktails. Why? because it might be fun, it might be new and it might get them drunk. And, like peeing on powerlines, this might come as a bit of a shock, but young people like to get drunk.

Part two: Because there are a bunch of people from generation who popularised LSD, Weed, Acid, magic mushrooms, drink driving, and conscription that feel the need to tell us that we drink too much alcohol. You think? Well everything else is illegal now so that’s all we have left! Excessive drinking and partying might not be the best option, but it’s all that we’ve got these days.

The point is that despite all the government warnings in the world people are still going to drink and still going to survive. I spent a few years where I was more often drunk than not, I called it university, it was awesome and somehow despite all this recent tests showed that my liver, kidneys, and heart are all in perfect health. That’s right, it turns out your body can take a fair bit of punishment if you work hard and train it to handle a bath-tub of vodka per night despite what a bunch of whinging health groups would have you believe.

So I’ll keep drinking as much as I like and knocking back cocktails, shooters and buckets of gin at any hour of the day or night like I’m the Queen Mother. If we’re lucky the nanny-state health groups might become so enraged they fatally choke on their cous cous and bile while we enjoy the spectacle from the beer garden of our warm, fuzzy contentedness.

Because we live in a liberal society, not a kindergarten, and we should be able to do what we damn well want.

-Worst Guy Ever