The "Old Block" Tells All.

  It is more than just a mathematical equation. If we as husbands could solve, dissolve, and resolve the “if factor” in those magnificent creatures that we are so blessed to call “wife”, we could discover every wonderful woman in the world in just one person. At one time, the number of women in the world eclipsed the number of men by a large margin. Today, that is not so. Players and Playboys had their pick of the litter back then, and built unsanctioned harems of internationally beautiful women all over the planet. There are still a few clusters of “Ballers”, “Players” and “Playboys” in circles that we regular guys do not and cannot infiltrate, because of financial illness. (Luckily it is not yet a terminal illness.) The sexual climate has changed drastically since those days and has evolved into something that challenges the legal, moral, and social systems to keep up or be trampled under the stampeding hooves of carnal insurrection. Gone are the days of men only seeking women as sex

Come on, dad. Wake up! You are the ultimate educator and adjudicator in your home. It is time to step up and give your progeny a fighting chance. Teach them everything, but when they are old enough, “Let them drive their own car.” You provide the GPS and maybe a little fuel, but the destination should be their own. You should only intervene to prevent them from driving off a cliff or having a head-on collision with misfortune. Daughters are very special. They get their first free hugs from you. (Little boys and big boys want them to pay dearly and severely for symbols and actions that denote love and affection.) Don’t let your daughter leave the house hungry for love, hugs or kisses. Fill her tank up with the good stuff, so she can make it back home safely, to get filled up with more free hugs again and again. Sons, however, are knuckleheads until they grow out of the “passenger” phase of life. You know how they are. They follow and emulate the “alpha dog” in their pack, and perfor

  Okay, ladies, turn your heads away for a moment. I need to render some mental images and pose a few queries to the men folk in attendance today. Yes, this is the “Old Block Church of What is on Your Filthy Mind”. You are a man, right? That instantly qualifies you as a purveyor of the almighty three “F’s”! (Food, Fighting, and F*cking, for the coarse among us. Gentlemen never use such terms, whether in mixed company or not, and certainly not in church!) So, the question on the table is, “Can you discern whether she is a flower or a weed?” Look around the congregation, and point that powerful digit of discernment at each lady in attendance, asking yourself, (or the digit), “Is she a flower or a weed?” (If you are a gynecological botanist, you are instantly disqualified from this exercise. You know way too much already!) Allow me to lay the groundwork for this little social experiment. Some girls are like delicate, fragrant flowers, but if they are in someone else’s garden, you can