How I know I'm not a REAL guy
Every so often we need to take inventory of ourselves, and my most recent look at myself has confirmed what I have long believed; that I am not a "real guy." I offer the following as evidence that I should not be lumped together with other men into any kind of stereotype.
Mid-Crack Syndrome-- Having more than a couple of pounds of extra baggage is no crime, neither is having somehow not learned during the last 20 years how to buy pants that fit. However, if a part of my anatomy normally covered by underwear were suddenly exposed to open air in public, I have something called central nervous system that kicks in. I guess that makes me an elitist snob, just like that opposable thumb thing I do that pisses off some guys.
Viagra-- While a number of men have suffered in private over the legitimate medical problem of impotence, the record-setting sales of this drug point to a typical guy philosophy. Probably half of the sales of this pill have been to guys who couldn't get it up one time in 1989, and will do anything (short of developing a healthy attitude towards sex) to avoid having that happen again. However, the idea behind viagra is to revive a "sleeping giant," not to tweak him out like a speed freak on a three-day methamphetamine bender. I eat prunes often: I like the taste, the texture, and they're a good source of iron. But I only eat four at any given time. While I have done more than my share of the old "If-some-is-good-too-many-is gooder" thinking, I have never, after taking a dump, said to myself, "Damn that worked well. I'll eat a dozen now and see if I can pass my gall bladder out my anus."
Three Stooges-- I have absolutely no idea why any male who has learned to walk upright would find anything about the Three Stooges funny. I myself have not laughed out loud at any Stooges antic since I was able to tie my own shoes. I have often heard Three Stooges fans, without any trace of irony, make disparaging remarks about the comedy of Jerry Lewis. This is like a junkie copping an attitude towards someone who got a DUI.
Masturbation-- Real guys don't admit that they masturbate. The implication for most is that admitting to thumping one's dummy is an admission that you "can't get any" (or at least not enough). And that problem with admitting that you don't get enough would be...? I'm more than happy to admit that I polish the old flagpole on a regular basis. Have I masturbated in the last week? Of course. In the last 24 hours? Yes. I won't bother to get any more specific than that, but let's just say that I'm typing one-handed right now. If more guys would spend as much time masturbating as they spend perfecting their chip shot or making a two-bank shot around the eight-ball, maybe they wouldn't feel the need to spend a day's pay on viagra.
Oh no, I've just realized something. The fact that I've written the above disproves my theory, after all. I've just written something in the hopes that it will, in some way, help women think of me as "not like other guys," and therefore increase my chances of getting laid. Damn, I'm a "real guy" after all.