10 Alternatives To Steak & Blowjob Day

Tomorrow is Steak and blowjob today, and despite being a huge fan of both I can't help but think we are missing a trick. I, for one would prefer a day without being asked questions or being interrupted on the throne...
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Tomorrow is Steak and blowjob today, and despite being a huge fan of both I can't help but think we are missing a trick. I, for one would prefer a day without being asked questions or being interrupted on the throne...

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There are many rumours and lies as to when and how March 14th became known as Steak and Blowjob Day, but the idea is simple. One calendar month after Valentine’s Day, when Men the world over have not bothered to do anything because ‘she doesn’t like it’ showered their other halves in love, women are encouraged to cook their men a fine piece of cow and perform mind blowing fellatio. There is even a website for it with, and I shit you not, guides to sucking cock and cooking steak. Now I like steak and blowjobs as much as the next man, but it does seem a bit Neanderthal to try and force through a day devoted to this coupling. Here’s some alternatives that involve little effort on her behalf but will make all the difference to you.

Stop moaning about my side of the bed day

I’m guessing your side of the bed contains some of the following. Shoes, fags, a referee’s whistle, books, magazines (not that sort), a crusty sock (yes, that sort), errant golf tees and all other sorts of shite. This annoys her doesn’t it. I bet you don’t care about the candles and pedicure kits, in fact I’m wagering that if she decided to have a live goat next to the bed you’d be fine as long as you could gag the fucker. Me too.

Whisky and Westerns Day

Women as a whole don’t like Westerns. Yeah she might have watched True Grit but let me tell you that is because she either dreams of being rogered by a bloated alcoholic wearing an eye patch, fancies Matt Damon or has an equine interest that goes beyond the saddle. What could be better than a day watching Once Upon a Time in the West and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance etc with a bottle of Whisky (or rum, it’s your disco) without any interruption? Add a hat and some cigars for the full effect, though I’d leave the boss-eyed 17-year-old hooker called Clara-Jane alone if you want to survive until…

I have heard whispered tales of men over the age of 18  who have to go to bed at the same time as their significant other

The 'go to bed anytime you want' day

Because I snore like an asthmatic bull that has just had his good lung removed with a rusty set of shears, this doesn’t affect me. But I have heard whispered tales of men over the age of 18  who have to go to bed at the same time as their significant other. Why they allow this is a whole different article, but today, just this once, those pussy-whipped souls should be allowed to stay up and play with their Tonka toys.

No questions day

From the benign such as ‘what time is it’ (she wears a watch, doesn’t she?) to the annoying (usually while watching a film) that arrive as thick and fast as an Elephant’s pop shot, innumerate questions are a feature of any man’s day. It would be nice, therefore, to not be queried for a whole 24 hours. And that includes rhetorical questions or even ones that we can benefit from, such as would we like three or four sausages. It’s always four.

The 'no live pause football' day

Pausing live TV is a wonderful invention, what with it allowing you to avoid bad advertising like the plague and, in the case of football highlights programmes, fast forward past twats like Colin Murray and Gary Lineker as they gurn cliché’s at you. But pausing live football for dinner with the in-laws is shit. All a man will do is then do is progress from x2 to x30 and stop if anything noteworthy happens. It’s like watching a match on a really heavy mix of LSD and Speed and ruins the spectacle entirely.

Go west, young lady, just don’t piss on my herb garden

Uninterrupted toilet day

Ah the Khazi, a place to sit and reflect with a brew and some reading material. A time to gather both your thoughts and enough bog roll to permanently stem Piers Morgan’s verbal diarrhea and attempt to find 30 minutes of solace when all else around you is Sunday morning mental. While they won’t admit it, most men will piss in the sink or in the garden after one knock on the bathroom door, while women will keep on knocking and break the silence with threats of castration and an alarming canon of highly personal insults. Go west, young lady, just don’t piss on my herb garden.

The 'Hawaiian pizza and arse sex' day

Terrible idea.

No 'what if' day

Men wonder about stuff all of the time. They internally speculate as to just how good they had been at (insert your dream job here) if they hadn’t stopped aged 8 or possessed no natural talent, they wonder as to whether Samantha Marston was really going to give them a blower at the Disco before she puked on their shoes, and they spend hours asking themselves silly questions about whether a Rhino would kick the fuck out of a giant Rhino-sized Baboon. It’s the dangerous, collective out in the open what ifs that we can’t stand. The ones that speculate doom based on a Trip Advisor review, or a weather report, or a fucking recommendation from Paula from school. We might be lazy, but we like danger, and choosing a restaurant in Spain based on instinct is as dangerous as it gets these days. We cannot deal with the thought that something we are looking forward to might be shit, and would prefer to shite through the eye of a needle for two days after a dodgy paella than worry about it beforehand. Let’s call it so what? Day.

We will act them out, we will wear costumes, we will shout. We might get naked

The 'no anything today' day

Just one day with no discernible form or structure, like James Corden’s shadow. Obviously we will reserve the right to have a panic attack and instantly make loads of plans that are impossible to pull off. On the flipside we might lollygag for seven hours, or chew our toenails, or give you a massage. We might even tackle the herbaceous border, but we’ll probably just go to the pub early and return even earlier knowing that we can’t cut it anymore and would prefer a cuddle and a bar of chocolate on the sofa. It doesn’t matter, just don’t plan the fucker.

The ‘Oh my days’ day

Just for the sheer fuck of it we’re allowed to reply to everything with ‘oh my days’ in a variety of accents without any anger in return. Works with everything from ‘the sink is blocked’ to ‘my Mum is having a sex change and will now be called Derek.’

'The day I' day

Men have a lot of boring stories that they think are scintillating. Until now they have been ignored. Today they will be listened to. The whole family will gather and sit there enrapt as we spout them off one by one. We will act them out, we will wear costumes, we will shout. We might get naked. These stories, pushed aside for soaps and things that really matter, will have their vengeance on March 14th.

Click here to go to the Official Steak and Blowjob day website