Preteen Dreams & Grown Man Wishes

This post is in serious violation of "MAN LAW", and I am fully aware of that. It's a good thing that I don't buy into any of that BS, so I have absolutely no qualms with the following statement:
Men need to grow up!

Yeah, I said it. And I don't mean in the "You're how old and still playing those damn video games while I'm over here in my new lace, tiger-print, Frederick's of Hollywood lingerie?" kind of way. I don't even mean it in the "They're only shoes; who cares that he stepped on them and didn't say sorry?" kind of way. I mean it in the Al Bundy drooling over the centerfold of the Jugs magazine kind of way.

Now, don't get me wrong; I am truly a fan of the female physique. Along with The Pyramids and Machu Picchu, the feminine form is one of God's most amazing creations. Poets and sculptors have crafted masterpieces from its inspiration. Amazing lyricists like Carl Carlton, "Her body measurements are perfect in every dimension~She's got a figure that's sho' 'nuff gettin' attention~She's poetry in motion, a beautiful sight to see~I get so excited viewin' her anatomy," and Sisqo: "She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck~Thighs like what, what, what~Baby move your butt, butt, butt," couldn't help but pen classics in honor of a woman's body.

And I understand that. But I don't understand what drives men to the point of losing their damn minds over the mere prospect of seeing ass and titties.

When I was young, I used to sneak under my uncle's water bed mattress to find a deluge of dirty magazines. It was a preteen's paradise. The mere sight of naked breasts was enough to work my burgeoning libido into a frenzy. Every chance I got, I would sneak a magazine out of the house to share with neighborhood friends. You would then find 5 or 6 googly-eyed adolescents smiling wildly as they stared at things our young minds could only imagine of experiencing first-hand.

But we were kids. We had nearly the same reaction when my friend Jarvis showed us his new G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu grip.

Why do grown ass men have the exact same reactions when it comes to strip clubs? I don't get it. Friends have tried to explain the merits. Some even talk about the great food many establishments serve. Maybe it's my aversion to germs. Maybe it's my ego. But I have never been a big fan of paying for a sweaty stranger to invade my personal space.

I was recently a groomsman in one of my really good friend's wedding. As is customary, the Best Man did his due diligence of organizing the bachelor party. To the delight of almost everyone invited, the itinerary basically consisted of strippers, dinner, and more strippers. (I hope my boy's new wife doesn't read this.) Almost to a man, everyone was happier than a rooster in a hen house when talking about the dancers. They were even willing to forsake a good meal just to see naked women. They reminded me of that huddled corner of kids I used to be a part of.

I'm not knocking a person's desire to view the physical form, or to toss money into the vicinity of the hard-working women. And if you're helping someone get the school, keep their lights on, or pay for their panther paw tattoo, isn't it all worth it in the end?

I just question some of the personal lives of those who go crazy at the thought of seeing naked women. Come on, man; you're an adult. Behave like one. Save all of your drooling and panting for the privacy of your own home...in front of your own computer screen...watching whatever porn site you choose.

Cuck Fupid!!!

Okay. It's One Question Quiz time.

Ready?

1. What is the most ridiculous singular day on the calendar?

Ground Hog Day? While a day in which the world waits for a rodent to determine the transition of the seasons is unbelievably inane, it is not the correct answer.


April Fool's Day, you say? Hmmm...a day when everyone, children and grown-ass people, alike, try their hardest to concoct some elaborate rouse just so they can have the pleasurable experience of yelling, "April Fool's Day" to someone who should be skeptical of any out-of-the-ordinary occurence does seem like a likely answer, but...WRONG!

I'll give you one more try. Okay, here's a hint. A large percentage of the population celebrates it with as much reluctance as certain members of Congress and the Senate have about referring to "That One" as Mr. President.

Still no clue? Okay. I'll tell you. It's Valentine's Day.

Now, this isn't your typical male rant about the day of pinks and reds. I am far from a non-romantic. That's just it. There is nothing romantic about Valentine's Day.

How romantic is it for someone to show their love for you on the day that the rest of the world has decided they should? Sure. Reluctantly giving you a gift because I don't want to hear your moaning is sooooooo romantic.

True story: There's this guy. He'd been married for a few years. During those brief years, he'd been with seven or eight other women. She'd "expected" his infedility (read: she knew but never had any concrete proof.) Needless to say, their marriage was in shambles. What kept it together? He would rush in at around 11 pm with a silly plastic-wrapped gift basket containing a bear and some old chocolates, and somehow, this would build up an incredible amount of goodwill that would last until her birthday came around.

So much importance was put on one day, that this woman sold her dignity for it.

Now, I believe in love and all that shit. Flowers are great. Who doesn't like some nice chocolates? Ferrero Rocher is my favorite. And you can never go wrong with a brand new bottle of "smell good". But having one day that you're "supposed" to show your love is plain stupid.

When I was younger, I loved the thought of going to school on Valentine's Day and exchanging little Scooby-Doo cards and chalky candy hearts with messages like "you're sweet" and "be mine". It was innocent, then. But even then, if someone you weren't great friends with didn't give you a Valentine, you felt slightly hurt. You tried to recall a time when you didn't share your crayons or took too long on the swings: anything that would have caused them to pass you by.

Today, the importance of this day has increased exponentially. It's become some sort of measuring stick for lovers. If your significant other is the only one in the office who doesn't receive flowers, chances are, you won't be "receiving" anything for a long time. Who cares if she doesn't like flowers or if some of the other women sent flowers to themselves?

Tip O' The Day:

Don't try and do the truly romantic thing like write a poem to her. If your sonnet isn't accompanied by something from FTD, Godiva, and your local your jewelry store, you might as well had written last year's winning lottery numbers on that paper; it would mean the same thing to her.

We, as a society, have become so wrapped up in the external matters of life, that the truly ethereal things don't matter. If you can't touch it, taste it, smell it, or show off to your friends then it doesn't really matter. So, with that, Valentine's Day has reached the pinnacle of pertinence, especially for those whose love language is "gifts". (By the way, whose love language isn't gifts? Don't we all like gifts?) Does a spontaneous, heartfelt gesture on a random day in August truly carry less weight than a box of undesired, coconut-filled chocolates on society's pre-established day? It seems that way.

I'm sure on February 14th Facebook statuses will change to reflect fanciful notions of love. And profile pics will transform to hearts and pictures of embracing lovers or a naked nymph ready to shoot his arrow at unsuspecting hearts. But why isn't that spirit of love and romance a constant? Women: If you truly want to be treated a certain way, why accept the opposite on 364 days of the year?

Somewhere a man is being hated for his anti-love stance. Somewhere else, a woman is hating herself because all of her loneliness is compounded on this day and she equates her flowerless desk as a sign that she is truly unloved. But that shouldn't be.

If you "looove" love and think that February 14th is the most romantic day ever: good for you. Just make sure that you don't substitute one day for substance. One bouquet of roses and a seafood dinner make not a romance. A box of chocolates and a Victoria Secret's Secret gift card do not prove his love. And if he brings you a gift basket from the corner, he's probably sleeping with your sister, or brother.

Bottom line: When all else fails, buy yourself a Scooby-Doo card and candy of your choice. And love yourself!

Should Two Roosters Be Able To Cluck Each Other?

Okay. I have serious dilemma. I have come to an impasse regarding an extremely important decision in my life. Rarely am I completely torn, but this is one of those rare times. So, I'll treat this situation like I have done most of the important decisions in my life: I'll write about it. Usually, once I start writing about things I gain some clarity. Sometimes the clarity comes about in the midst of me writing and before I put the final period in place, and on other occasions, I need time to reflect on the things I committed to paper that were stuck somewhere in my confused or afraid subconscious.

So...the problem.

Should I stop eating at Chick-fil-A?

Now, some people may scoff at my quandary and feel it warrants little contemplation. You may chalk it up to a simple dietary decision.

I can already hear my vegan and vegetarian loved ones' comments on this. They're probably shipping me some tofu and hummus, and emailing me their best tofurkey recipe. Thanks.

But this is serious.

I looooove Chick-fil-A.

I am not a heavy partaker of fast food at all. I can't recall the last Big Mac or Whopper I enjoyed; it had to be in my teens. I have even weened myself off of McDonald's fries. (Even when they are fresh, hot, and perfectly salted.) I am an overall healthy eater. I've even learned to reduce my portion size. Now, I'm only slightly gluttonous.

However, a #7 with extra-large waffle fries and a lemonade with little ice is a sin that I proudly confess to. But the recent controversy regarding my favorite chicken spot has caused me to put a pause on all of that. I've passed by a few times, my taste buds crying out for those potatoes dipped in barbecue sauce, but I kept driving.

But should I really stop eating there because they have donated food and/or funds to organizations that lobby against gay marriage? Hmmm.

Well, friends have compared it to patronizing a company that supports the KKK. Of course I wouldn't buy a soy caramel macchiato from Starbucks if they provided free coffee at a David Duke rally, so shouldn't I feel the same way about Chick-fil-A?

Should I? Many people who support the rights that gays have to get married and be as miserable as heterosexuals are proponents of all rights and freedoms for all people. So, doesn't that apply to religious beliefs? And if I am free to have my personal religious beliefs. can I not be an entrepreneur as well? And if I am a religious entrepreneur, should I not be able to espouse my beliefs and run my business at the same time, as long as I don't break any laws?

The argument on gay marriage is not simply one of politics, but simple humanity.

Dr. King said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." And I understand that. My beliefs about gay marriage are clear: we should all have the right to fall in love, get married, become disenchanted, and get divorced. But does that have to get in the way of me enjoying a tasty meal?

It's okay that I patronize a company that may support an organization that has some beliefs that vary from my own, isn't it? I am an advocate of fathers being significant part of children's lives.

Chick-fil-A sponsors a program with that exact purpose.

Hmmm...I'm still confused.

Does everything in the world have to become politicized? Can Chick-fil-A just be a spot that makes a damn good chicken and sandwich and not the Don Imus?

Okay, I think that's it. I think I'll go and get some Chick-fil-A today, tomorrow, or the next day. And I'll eat it while making a donation to the ACLU.