August 20th, 2013

Being a man fuckin rocks.

…At least that’s what my man friends tell me.

Thanks for the update.

But after a kick ass brainstorm, discussion and  ongoing e-mail thread confessing a slew of my guys firend’s badass ways, they requested I keep these confessions to myself because well,

“I don’t want to come off as acting superior to women (apparently bitches don’t like that) or truly bashing all females in one swing (once again, so touchy).”

And then about

1

2

3

Seconds later checked themselves and were like

Wait.

And continued to enlighten me like this:

Olive, Brian, Tucker, and Bentley Cooper present:

“7 Reasons Why It Feels Damn Good To Be A Man”

1. Getting our shit together in approximately 5 minutes

That’s right.

We men can pull our shit together and walk out the door lookin this adorable

Flawless.

IN SECONDS.

Why?

Because we wear the same shoes EVERY GODDAMN DAY.

Jeans. DONE.

Shirt. DONE.

Face. DONE.

You know what steps we just skipped that women just don’t?

Makeup:

Nope.

Hair:

Fuck that.

Picking out an “outfit” – Deciding they don’t like that shit – Rechoosing the damn thing:

YOU ARE SO BLIND RIGHT NOW. 

And finally

Arriving late and judging the SHIT out of other women:

What’s that? Special occasion, you say?

BOOM BABY.

I’ve got a suit.

Same suit I’ve worn for YEARS.

Same suit that I bought ONCE. And never had to buy again.

This is some timeless shit right here.

Have fun dress shopping for every major and minor event of your life, ladies. 

I’ll just be over here getting extra sleep and shamelessly reusing outfits

EVERY. GODDAMN. DAY. 

Suckers.

2. Our bodies don’t self-destruct on a monthly basis

GODDAMN not having a period is awesome.

You know what I do everyday?

NOT BLEED OUT OF MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS.

Awwwwww yeah. That’s right. My hormones remain CONSTANT, my flow only refers only to my ability to spit rhymes

HOLLA

And the only pads I need are BREAK PADS as I cruise to a stop in my car after enjoying another day of being a man.

GODDAMNIT I feel good.

I NEVER have to:

1. Gorge myself on junk food to tranquillize blood, cramps and irrational anger

HOTT.

2. Go completely apeshit anytime anything remotely disappointing happens.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NO PIZZA LEFT.

3. Excuse myself from events because the internal gears are impeding my ability to mingle.

Nope. Not minglin.

…Well…

Alright maybe I can relate a little.

Maybe after Mexican food or an “Indian” buffet.

…Word to the wise, never trust a buffet that serves ethnic food.

Not even once.

FUCK.

3. No babies poppin outta my penis.

It all starts when you meet a pretty lady.

Hey good-lookin.

And you swindle her with your smooth moves:

And she says YES.

THAT’S HOW IT’S DONE BABY.

…And one condom snappage later…

You find yourself in the delivery room witnessing the vagina that once seemed so damn fun, expand like a predators mouth and pop out a fucking LIFEFORM.

WHAT IN THE HELL.

I’m freaking out.

And I’m freakin out HARD.

But hey, I’ll take a lowered sex drive and mild panic attack in exchange for my party pack ANYDAY.

So.

Kudos, ladies

Keep that shit up.

And I’ll be sure to do the same…

4. We can be President of the United States

“Lolz.”

5. We’ve got total Freedom Pee-dom

OH YEAH.

The world is our oyster and we can pee on it with motherfucking EASE.

Chugged an extra-large Coke on an extra long road trip with no bathrooms in sight?

WHAT. EVER.

Park. Walk. Bush.

Strife free.

…Gave the other half of that extra-large Coke to your lady friend in the passenger seat and she’s now suffering from the same dilemma?

………..

Not quite as graceful…

Choose your public depantsing scenarios wisely, ladies.

You’ve got your ladyhood at stake.

But.

NOT ME.

6. We never get lost.

LISTEN TO ME.

I got this shit. Not every freakin fork in the road needs a ‘LETS PHONE A FRIEND” “ARE YOU SURE YOU KNOW WHERE WE’RE GOING?!” SHOULD I….DARE I…..ASK SIRI?”

Unbunch your panties and realize

“If Christopher Columbus didn’t need directions, neither do I”.

YA DIG.

Awesome.

7. We finish = You finish.

Feels good to be a winner.

Every goddamn time.

BECAUSE.

Pleasin a lady is hard fuckin WORK.

First we gotta swoon you with our ways.

Then sweet talk the shit out of you

And eventually we cruise you into >>  Pleasure town where

One thing leads to another.

And shit gets heated.

And it’s getting a little crazy.

AND IT’S GETTIN A LITTLE WEIRD

AND 

DONE AND DONE.

At least for me.

And you’re over there like:

But I’m not really that sorry  because

And there you have it. 7 tried and (relatively) true explanations as to why men think they’re the fucking JAM.

Women, you’re now on deck.

A kickass retaliation list is coming to a blog post near you.