Boys are Yucky

Boys are gross. That’s a fact. They do gross things, and find gross things awesome. They can go four days without a shower and not notice. It’s gross. To further prove my point Reddit conducted a “what do you do” type poll and these are some of the results, none of which are shocking.

This is what men admit to doing on the toilet and my response to it:

“Pretend stream of piss is a power washer for removing the hard to get stains from the toilet.”- Why are there stains? Clean your toilet with real cleaning supplies or buy those blue things that hide them!

“Like most people, I pee in the shower. Unlike most people, I hold my penis upwards when I do it sometimes. It makes a really cool fountain.”- That is not “like most people”. You stand in urine. Then you spray urine up towards your face. Gross. So freaking gross.

“Tried to spit directly into your stream while pissing.”- WHY?!!?

“Flush mid piss and race the toilet.”- This I understand.

“I am quite confident that all men with a bathroom scale weigh themselves before and after they poop to see how much it weighed.”- So simple…men are so simple.

“When taking a piss make a circle with your fingers around the stream and try to make sure you don’t get on your hand.”- But you do get it on your hands…the pee sprays on your hands, disgusting.

“Take an epic dump so intense that you had to remove your shirt because it got so hot.”- It should not be such hard work…change your diet.

“Saw a turd in half with super-power piss-stream.” I can’t. I can’t even…how do you not gag? You know what…no…just…no.

This is what men admit to doing with their balls and my commentary:

“When your balls get stuck to your thighs in a public place, you open your legs as wide as possible without looking like a freak and let the balls slowly unstick. Best feeling.” “After you took a piss and a lil ballsack meat is stuck between your boxers and you just lift your leg like a dog who’s about to pee.” “Do a little leg kick mid walk in an attempt to unstick your balls from your leg.”- Three different ways unsticking your balls is amazing. You simple lovely creatures.

“Sit there and watch your ball sack move in and out by itself like some weird alien being. I can sit there and stare at it fluctuate for …

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The Death of the Manly Man Revisited

Some people freak out over change; it’s well-documented.  It tends to wreak havoc on emotions.  Perhaps that’s why major media outlets are starting to address the concept that women are increasingly becoming the driving force in the work field.  Young college educated ladies in large metropolitan cities are receiving higher paychecks than their male counterparts, and women are earning more PhD’s than dudes.  And unsurprisingly, guess what?  Some people are not at all okay with theses changes.

Many recent articles, including a Newsweek cover story titled “Men’s Lib” and  Atlantic’s article called “The End of Men” are reporting on the loss of manhood and the crisis …

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How Skinny Jeans, Lattes and Feminists Murdered the Marlboro Man

Masculinity started its downward spiral sometime around when that harlot and presumed feminist, Eve, convinced poor old gullible Adam to eat the apple. I mean, after Michael kicked them out of Eden, it was all sharing feelings and antiquing and man purses.

But even though masculinity has always been on the decline, its most feared opponent — skinny jeans — has sent manhood into an all-out death spiral.

So says Jane Gilvary of The Bulletin: Philadelphia’s Family Newspaper.

Jane begins her article with the following strange and more-than-slightly-homophobic diatribe:

Despite what feminists might argue, real men don’t wear skinny jeans. Real men also don’t wear V-neck tees, or accessorized scarves, and they avoid purple and pink like the plague. The mere idea of a pedicure or waxing makes a real man nauseous. If a woman hangs out with this kind of girly-man routinely, it’s only because she wants to share his wardrobe and his non-fat caramel macchiato. A woman can’t imagine a man reloading his double barrel shotgun or chopping wood when he’s donned in Donna Karan and drinking an Appletini. Men were meant to wear rugged Wranglers, leather jackets and boots, like they belong in a James Dean movie and not an episode of “Will & Grace.”

We feminists just love ruining things for those cross-stitching, pie-baking “real women” who want their men sweaty, hairy and gassy. Need I remind Jane that many of the men Grace actually dated were not scarf-wearing, latte-sipping “quasi-queers,” but the very manly-men that she describes? The point of Will and Grace was that Will and Jack were actually gay — not her metrosexual boyfriends.

I am so endlessly sick of the “decline of masculinity” argument. Masculinity will be on the decline when men, on average, make less money than women. Masculinity will be on the decline when “paternity leave” isn’t considered silly. Masculinity will be on the decline when the phrase “You throw/hit/drive like a girl” is no longer an insult. Masculinity will be on the decline when the United States has had 45 female Presidents. And even if masculinity is declining — and it’s not — studies prove that even the very metrosexuals that Jane fears get chosen for jobs over female candidates.

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Art Student’s “Machine” Simulates Menstruation

Every twenty-eight days, I curse Eve from the bottom of my soul. “I hope that freaking apple was delicious, you selfish jerk!” is about the nicest thing that comes out of my mouth. While menstruation has become everything from an art medium to a convenient excuse for men to write off the “misbehavior” of women, it’s still a subject that tends to skeeve people out.

And I’m one of them. It’s bad enough to have horrible cramps (abdomen, back, and legs), stained underwear, violent diarrhea at the onset, bloating, a headache that lasts throughout, the inconvenience of sanitary napkins and tampons (I am seriously looking into the diva cup), the impact on your sex life (I had a memorable and utterly humiliating experience once where my period was done … but then somehow restarted again while in a compromising position—I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed in my life), being aware of the smell, food cravings, and I could go on but I’m sure you get the point.

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