The following is an excerpt from a [review of my Gynecology Oncology rotation](http://members.iglou.com/piercy/rotations.html#Gynecology Oncology) from my web page:
Dr. J
Re: women’s understanding of men
Damn. We’re in a tight spot.
Re: Shoes
I was in a shoe store a few years ago (aged 24 or so) with my mom and innocently asked “Mom, what are pumps?” This other woman overheard me, I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret or anything, and she just about died laughing at my naive male question. sigh
Actually, I hear clothing designers are mostly gay men, so they don’t even have the advantage of looking at women’s bodies much. Which possibly explains the ‘Misses equals no hips/boobs’ problem.
I was born female and I dunno what the hell pumps are either. The last pump I bought was for the water in my basement…
I want a urinal. Ramoth thinks it’s disgusting. I now have one more arguement to throw at her 
Also, people, I own ONE PAIR of shoes. That’s IT. I wear my steel-toe, steel sole CATS outside, or I go barefoot.
As for ask the non-male, I gotta know: I understand that it takes you two hours to get ready. I realise this, I’ve seen reasons why and how and I’m well over the constant choosing and rechoosing of clothes, makeup, etc. I get it.
But why, oh god why, if you know that it’ll take two hours to get ready, do you start getting ready fifteen minutes before departure, making us (read: me, the guy who refuses to be late for anything), late? And why do you get pissed at me when I keep reminding you to start, saying, “I’ve got two hours! C’mon! shut up!”. YOU know as well as I do it’ll take two hours! Start already! AAH AHHH AHHHHHHHH@#@#!
Sorry. Question stands.
Apparently you picke the wrong dragon… takes me 15 minutes to get ready to go out. And 10 of that is spent getting Poet’s butt off of the couch…
Except for going to work, it generally takes me at most five minutes to get ready to go. I wear makeup for work, and for that it takes me about a half hour.
Well, Mnementh, in MY house, I begin to get ready fifteen minutes before we have to leave because the previous hour and forty-five minutes were spent ironing WryGuy’s shirt, finding daughter’s shoes and combing her hair because when he combs it he only manages to get the comb through the first layer of hair, then I have to wrap his aunt’s gift, which I also had to go out and buy because he could not find Target if his life depended on it, then I have to pick out his tie because he is prone to wearing bizarre color combinations, then I have to pack up the potato salad I made for the party, THEN I can get dressed and throw on a layer of makeup. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! (Sorry.)
Without the WryGuy and the kid, I am out the door in seven minutes flat from shower to shoes.
Can’t speak for Ramoth, though I’ve heard that it’s not a good idea to piss off a queen dragon.
I meant grope around near the top of the tank, where you’ll find the seat and seat cover, if they’re up. No need to plunge your hand.
And now for a really girly question. 
Do you have any nicknames for feminine hygeine products? And are you shy about mentioning them in front of men, or strange men, or acquaintance men?
For instance, here’s an example. (I don’t have any cutesy nicknames, except for a joke with my ex where one of us would refer to tampons as Black Cats and the other would say “do NOT light the string. You won’t like it.”)
I go to Target with my roommate. If he and I are wandering near the soap and toothbrushes, I may say to him, “Hang on, I need some tampons.” But say we run into a mutual friend or a friend from work, and I’m talking to them. He goes down that aisle while I’m talking and says “Need anything?”
“Errr, um, no,” I will stammer and blush. Or blurt out, loudly, “Yes! TAMPONS!” and then blush.
Am I alone in this? I took thespark.com’s Gender Test and I’m embarrassed to say how it came out.
Corr, who likes to confess, “Yes, I wear women’s underwear!”
According to spark.comI am definately male. Which raises some interesting questions about the two children I allegedly gave birth to… damn that was some nasty pot. 
I don’t gave much shyness about mentioning tampons and the like in public or to men either. But then I do enjoy pushing people’s buttons.