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You’ve got male

25 Apr

Congratulations, girl guide! Despite the astronomical odds not in your favor, you’ve managed to track down and unmask an unzombified human male (UHM). He’s standing before you in all his be-jeweled, be-wigged, be-dressed and be-makeuped man glory. Now what do you do?

Rule #1 No sudden movements.
Blenders—UHMs who dress up as women to blend in with their surroundings—are easily spooked. They assume every woman is a heat-seeking missile waiting for the opportunity to home in on their pelvis and touch their groin.

Rule #2 Don’t touch his groin.
Yes, I know the novelty of a fully intact penis is a lure almost too irresistible to withstand but you must. Even though men divested themselves of all responsibility for society, legally, they still have the same inalienable right not to be touched by a stranger as you do. Unauthorized physical contact is considered harassment in most jurisdictions.

Rule #3 Go in for a good look.
Just because you can’t lay on hands doesn’t mean you can’t caress him with your eyes. Go on, lean in closely. The feel of your breath on his neck doesn’t count as assault. Check out his eyes, nose, face, stubble, jaw line, broad shoulders, anything that seems notable or particularly masculine.

Rule #4 Strike up a conversation.
It’s all right. You can ask him anything. What’s his life like? Does he ever get tired of being pampered and cosseted? How does he live with the fact that he’s a drain on society? What’s his favorite color? The vast majority of UHMs will not answer even the most harmless of questions because they fear engaging with the public. But you might get lucky and find one willing to chat. If so, buy him a latte. UHMs like when women buy them things. It makes them feel special.

Rule #5 Share the love.  
Don’t be shy about your discovery. Tell everyone you know about it. For many women, unzombified human males are more myth than reality, and seeing an actual man in a familiar environment can help affirm their existence. (Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus! And, no, his skin isn’t molted purple. Yet.) Snap a picture with your phone and send it to your friends and family with the caption: “Look what I found!” Even better, submit it to the New York Post‘s Man Candy Monday contest and win 100 bucks. An unzombified human male and mad money? Best. Day. Ever.


Male-watching basics

13 Mar

All right, girl guides! Now that you know where 96.4 percent of unzombified human males are (still not sure? See our color-coded breakdown), it’s time to go out and find one.

Oh, yeah. Find one. These anthropological curiosities won’t be around for long, so grab your binocs and hit the street before they disappear completely.  Here, everything you need to know to male-watch with the best of them.

Know what you’re looking for.
Chances are, you’ve sat next to a UHM on the subway or stood behind one in line at the supermarket. You just didn’t realize it because he was dressed exactly like you.  The vast majority of UHMs are blenders—men passing as women to blend in. Men blend for a variety of reasons: They’re embarrassed by their own lack of productivity; they’re ashamed of how they behaved when the plague first struck; they want to avoid a fuss.

The best way to identify a UHM is by his Adam’s apple. A man can don a dress and a speak in a falsetto, but he has few options when it comes to hiding the projection in the front of the neck formed by the largest cartilage of the larynx. Be suspicious of any woman wearing a wool scarf in the middle of summer or indoors. A UHM will typically claim to be an opera singer keeping her vocal cords warm. To confirm, ask her to sing Der Hölle Rache from The Magic Flute. Most divas have the aria down pat and will happily show off their technical skill. Other suspicious characters? Clowns and scuba divers.

Know where to look.
When the daily grind of their total pampered existence takes on a minutely uncomfortable edge (“What’s that pea doing under my mattress?”), UHMs like to come down from their penthouse suites and immerse themselves in the teeming humanity of everyday life. Their chosen spot to remind themselves of the hyped-up anxiety and rude discomfort of the true daily grind? Starbucks. But not just any Starbucks. UHMs prefer the ones with the tightest quarters, the better to be annoyed by their fellow patrons queuing impatiently for their macchiato lattes. For kicks, they will always mutter their name, then laugh at the barista’s closest approximation.

Know how to look.
Finding a UHM requires three crucial things: good binoculars, an excellent bladder and a mildly engrossing book. Male watching is a full-day activity, so arrive early and grab a table with a clear view of the door. (Skip the counter; stools don’t provide back support and you’ll be facing away from the action.) Since you’re settling in for the long haul, it’s important to pace your purchases. A good rule of thumb is one drink every two hours. Go for small tea or regular coffee; fancier drinks will up your budget and calorie intake quickly. Keep your binoculars handy and don’t be shy about using them. Other women won’t mind the attention, and UHMs won’t risk their cover by complaining. Hold steady. Male watching might seem like a wasted effort but if you persist, I guarantee you’ll eventually see a human male. Which begs the question: What will you do when you find him?

Guys! Guys! Guys!

1 Mar

Welcome to the other side of the looking glass!

Today, for the first time ever, the Girls’ Guide to Dating Zombies turns its steely gaze and keen intellect to the matter of—wait for it—men.

Yep, you read that right. In this one-time-only, three-part series, we discuss the other half of the species: that elusive creature known as the unzombified human male.

What is there to say about him? Frankly, not much. After the great H1Z1 outbreak of 2000, the UHM went into seclusion—in penthouse suites, castle courtyards and ski chalets—and never reemerged. Instead, he chose to avail himself of the many luxuries bestowed on his randomly immune Y chromosome.

In the first installment in our series, we address the eternal question, What do men do? Not surprisingly, they work in exclusive industries that, prior to the outbreak, were not available to the vast majority of them. Here, a breakdown of the zombified human male population by occupation. As you can see, none of them are manning the checkout counter at the local bodega.


Stat source: International Institute of Men's Studies


52.4 percent: movie star 
Post-plague, any man, regardless of looks or talent, can be a movie star; all it takes is immunity and a willingness to show up at the appointed hour.

19.6 percent: companion
For one hundred bucks a pop, a man will sell the simple pleasure of being in his company, and the pleasure stops there: For a Benny Franklin, all you get is the right to occupy the same space as a man and a keepsake photo; conversation is extra.

12.5 percent: sperm donor
 Unlike sperm donation centers of previous generations, current ones have no genetic or medical requirements. All donators are welcomed and provided with a generous living.

11.9 percent: pharmaceutical researcher
This is a fancy way of saying pampered guinea pig. To find a cure to the zombie plague, drug companies need unlimited access to the DNA of survivors, and those who are willing and able to provide it can have their every desire fulfilled.

3.6 percent: other
No hard data exists for this segment of UHMs, but the IRS speculates that they are the intimate friends of extremely successful women (read: companions with benefits).