The Man Rules, Volume One

Men have rules. They’re unwritten, mostly because writing things down feels like homework. But somebody has to put them on paper before the next generation starts doing stuff like wearing shorts to a funeral or leaving one sip of milk in the carton.

So here it is. Volume One. Memorize it. There will be a quiz, and the quiz is called “life.”

Rule 1: You do not leave one beer in the cooler.

You either finish it or you leave enough for a man to have a real drink. One lonely beer floating in melted ice water is a crime against humanity. Finish it or claim it. Don’t abandon it.

Rule 2: If a buddy is moving, you help him move.

No excuses. You can complain the whole time. You can say, “Why the hell do you own this many books?” every single trip up the stairs. But you show up. Payment is pizza and beer. That’s the contract. It’s older than the Constitution.

Rule 3: The urinal buffer zone is sacred.

If there are five urinals and a man is at number one, you take number five. Not two. Not three. Five. If the only option is right next to him, you take a stall. Eyes forward. No talking. This isn’t a social event. It’s a mission.

Rule 4: You return the tool better than you borrowed it.

You borrow a man’s ladder, you bring it back. Clean. That day, ideally. If you break it, you buy a new one, and you buy the good one, not the cheap one. Borrowing a tool is borrowing a man’s trust. His ladder is his heart, basically.

Rule 5: Never ask another man how much he paid for his truck.

He’ll tell you if he wants to. He won’t want to. He paid too much. We all paid too much.

Rule 6: Say “I’m proud of you” to your buddies at least once a decade.

Say it quick. Say it while looking at something else, like a grill or a game. Then immediately insult his haircut to restore balance. Emotional moments must be followed by an insult within five seconds, or the universe collapses.

Rule 7: When another man is backing up a trailer, you shut up.

You may guide him with hand signals if he asks. You may not shout “cut it, cut it, other way” from a lawn chair. Backing up a trailer is the hardest thing a man does in public, and it deserves silent respect, like a golfer’s putt or a guy trying to parallel park in front of a full patio.

Rule 8: You don’t touch another man’s thermostat.

Whatever temperature he has picked, he picked it for a reason. That reason is money. It’s always money.

Rule 9: Your mom gets a call on her birthday. A call. Not a text.

She did the whole birth thing. You can do eight minutes on the phone hearing about her neighbor’s gutters. Put it in your calendar. She will notice. She’s always noticing.

Rule 10: Never trust a man who doesn’t eat the crust.

He’s hiding something. I don’t know what. But he’s hiding it.

Bonus Rule: You can talk shit about your buddy, but nobody else can.

That’s the whole deal right there. Roasting your friend is a sacred act of love. Somebody else roasting him is an act of war. Brotherhood is a closed circuit. Those are the rules.

Print them. Hang them in the garage. Tape them up next to the throne. Read them every morning until you live them. Volume Two is coming, and it has a whole section about tape measures.

Shop the damn thing: Man Rules posters and stickers.

Sound off in the comments: What’s the man rule we forgot? Submit your amendment below and the Chief will consider it for Volume Two.