Real men don't change socks
This morning I managed to slice my ankle open quite nicely on the sharp edge of a piece of furniture. I was getting ready for work and swung my leg into it while walking into the bathroom. After a few choice swears, I washed it out in the sink and continued to get dressed. Now my sock is bloody and I can feel it sticking to the open wound.
Oh yeah. I feel manly.
But besides mistreating an injury, what else can one do to feel like a real man?
How about killing something? Yeah, that has a manly flair to it. How about hunting cats. No, not big dangerous man-eating cats. Nooooooooooo... I'm talking house cats. Free-roaming house-cats. I can just picture it:
Tex: "Hey Rex, how did you do today?"
Rex: "I bagged me a Tabby and three Calicos."
Tex: "Not bad, not bad. I got me a Siamese -- see, I tied 'em onto the hood of my mini-van."
Yep, nothing says manly like killing something that drinks milk from a saucer and purrs while it rubs against your leg.
Here's another good one for you under-testosterated-types -- go to watch a sporting event, and punch someone while they're in the midst the game. Nothing says "big man" like cold-cocking someone when they not only will never see it coming, but didn't do anything to deserve it. Of course, the manly response is to hold onto the ball and hit the person back before you get back to the game, while allowing two runs to score. Yep, that's getting your priorities straight...
Or, if you're more the passive-aggressive type, there are still ways you can avoid being a total pantywaist and look like a man. For example, why not name a slime beetle after the president of the United States. These tough-guy scientists say the were honoring this powerful political icon, but I think it's just a thinly-veiled ruse to start the mother of all revolutionary slap-fights -- one that will slowly rise from being totally insignificant and dorky, to being extremely ignorable and dorky. But only time will tell... their progress shall be measured one bug at a time, my friends, one bug at a time.
Oh yeah. I feel manly.
But besides mistreating an injury, what else can one do to feel like a real man?
How about killing something? Yeah, that has a manly flair to it. How about hunting cats. No, not big dangerous man-eating cats. Nooooooooooo... I'm talking house cats. Free-roaming house-cats. I can just picture it:
Tex: "Hey Rex, how did you do today?"
Rex: "I bagged me a Tabby and three Calicos."
Tex: "Not bad, not bad. I got me a Siamese -- see, I tied 'em onto the hood of my mini-van."
Yep, nothing says manly like killing something that drinks milk from a saucer and purrs while it rubs against your leg.
Here's another good one for you under-testosterated-types -- go to watch a sporting event, and punch someone while they're in the midst the game. Nothing says "big man" like cold-cocking someone when they not only will never see it coming, but didn't do anything to deserve it. Of course, the manly response is to hold onto the ball and hit the person back before you get back to the game, while allowing two runs to score. Yep, that's getting your priorities straight...
Or, if you're more the passive-aggressive type, there are still ways you can avoid being a total pantywaist and look like a man. For example, why not name a slime beetle after the president of the United States. These tough-guy scientists say the were honoring this powerful political icon, but I think it's just a thinly-veiled ruse to start the mother of all revolutionary slap-fights -- one that will slowly rise from being totally insignificant and dorky, to being extremely ignorable and dorky. But only time will tell... their progress shall be measured one bug at a time, my friends, one bug at a time.
1 Comments:
You're the new Curt Schilling!!
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