He clears his throat, adjusts his tie,
Declares, "Now, let me clarify."
You've studied this? He's read a tweet!
And he will tell you in a beat.
He says, "Your thoughts are interesting."
But you're the peasant, he's the king,
Then he goes, "You couldn't know,
But, no worries - Let me show."
His facts are wrong, his tone divine,
What he just said? That was YOUR line.
Repeat, rephrase, sigh in despair,
"Thank God, my love, that I am there."
"Now look," comes next, a grin so sly.
"Well, surely, I can tell you why."
"Don't take it wrong," his face will plead,
"I'm just explaining what you need."
He calls you "dear" to sound mature,
Repeats himself, "Just to be sure."
Won't let you speak, no questions asked,
Fragile pride, so barely masked.
And FINALLY, that man is done,
He'll smirk, believing he has won.
You tell him off, a deadpan face,
Middlefinger, perfect grace.
This was YOUR thing, not his, oh no,
So you tell him, WHAT you know,
Embarrass him? He asked for it!
And if that man should throw a fit,
Just remind him who YOU are,
And that you didn't get that far
Without your knowledge and your brain!
All of this? YOUR domain.
Tell him off, or kick him out,
Don't be silent, no, be loud.
Mansplainers stop only when,
You call them out, these fragile men.
Dec 21, 2025
Dec 21, 2025 at 3:35 AM UTC
He clears his throat, adjusts his tie,
Declares, "Now, let me clarify."
You've studied this? He's read a tweet!
And he will tell you in a beat.
He says, "Your thoughts are interesting."
But you're the peasant, he's the king,
Then he goes, "You couldn't know,
But, no worries - Let me show."
His facts are wrong, his tone divine,
What he just said? That was YOUR line.
Repeat, rephrase, sigh in despair,
"Thank God, my love, that I am there."
"Now look," comes next, a grin so sly.
"Well, surely, I can tell you why."
"Don't take it wrong," his face will plead,
"I'm just explaining what you need."
He calls you "dear" to sound mature,
Repeats himself, "Just to be sure."
Won't let you speak, no questions asked,
Fragile pride, so barely masked.
And FINALLY, that man is done,
He'll smirk, believing he has won.
You tell him off, a deadpan face,
Middlefinger, perfect grace.
This was YOUR thing, not his, oh no,
So you tell him, WHAT you know,
Embarrass him? He asked for it!
And if that man should throw a fit,
Just remind him who YOU are,
And that you didn't get that far
Without your knowledge and your brain!
All of this? YOUR domain.
Tell him off, or kick him out,
Don't be silent, no, be loud.
Mansplainers stop only when,
You call them out, these fragile men.
HA!
Mansplaining. What a sport.
Nothing in this world thrills me quite like encountering one of these wild specimens in their natural habitat.
My favorite case study?
A masterpiece.
I've played guitar since childhood. Worked in a music store for nine ******* years. Playing, selling, tuning, and repairing guitars. Breathing guitars.
Then in strolls Mr. Mansplain, clutching his budget Fender like a diploma. I'm sitting somewhere surrounded by guitars, fingerpicking my favorite song, minding my own business.
Before I know it, he's there, giving me "free advice."
Telling me I'm doing it wrong.
My nails? Too long. ( Left short. Right long. Perfect for fingerpicking.)
My tuning? Off, but he can fix it. (It was perfect.)
The top? Sitka, he says. Not suitable for women. (Solid Cedar, but hey, he tried. And woods are now gender assigned? )
The Strings? I should never use D'Addario strings. (They were Martin Strings.) And definitely not bronze. (Phosphor Bronze Babe here.)
Capo? Used improperly. (Nope.)
I nodded through it. Dead face. While my colleagues nearly **** their pants.
Then, the grand finale: he claims superiority because he's already been playing for a year (clocking in at twenty) and his guitar was 'adjusted by Elo,' a personal friend, working in that store. A legend when it comes to adjusting guitars.
I raised my eyebrows and saw my colleague (still love you for that) on the phone, giving me the widest smirk, nodding toward me.
Then, my work phone rang. I looked Mr. Mansplain dead in the eye and answered, "Music Store Name. You're speaking to Elo. How can I help you?"
I swear, he shed a skin tone a second - until he hit ghost.
Dude left within a blink.
BEST! MANSPLAIN! MOMENT! EVER!
Sometimes, when I'm feeling down, I think of him.