Who's the Man?

Growing up I was overly misconceived with the falsehood that I would get more chicks if I could tell you the starting line up for the 1992 Portland Trailblazers.

Apparently, that is not the secret to winning a girl over.

For full effect, download “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

In my research as a single white male, I have come to the conclusion that there are four types of males that exist in this world, and women have the option to pick and choose which one of these “projects” that they would love to try and “fix”. True story, that’s why she’s dating you. Not because you’re hot, not because you’re talented, but because you have issues and she wants to change you.

Guy A, The Mechanic: This man has the same amount of brain cells firing in his head as a Ford Pinto has in horsepower. He is demented, diluted, dimmer than a pet rock, but has the ability to change out a transmission in under an hour. He compares engine sizes with his competitors that he attempts to blow out with his exhaust on main street. He loves vehicles more than he loves life itself.

Guy B, The Hunter: The amount of head trophies that are lining the inside of his garage would make Sarah McLaughlin want to vomit. He has more guns than he has pairs of underwear and a wardrobe consisting of strictly camouflage and bright orange vests. He never forgets to tell you about the night that he sat in a treestand for 81 consecutive hours to which he brought down that monstrous beast in his front parlor (which by the way looks like a doe with golf tees glued to it’s scalp).

Guy C, The Gamer: The least sociable of the four compadres, this creature is obsessed with things that can be configured into a 64-bit system. At times he speaks in a foreign language, calling out nerdy lingo such as NUB, or PWNED (don’t try and interpret them correctly, just say them phonetically). This creature also has difficulties with hygiene, bathing, and pure cleanliness, often losing track of time due to leveling up.

Guy D, The Jock: Statistically, the dumbest of the four organisms, mainly due to an accumulation of concussion-related injuries from athletic participation. This man lives and dies at the gym, and lets nothing get in his way when it comes to improving his physical appearance. Oftentimes, this man goes back to his room to polish his high school J.V. best bench player award he received for the men’s water polo club. His low self-esteem derides from the concept that he is no longer on the field competing.

Guy D-2, The Junkie: An appendage to Guy D, this individual is actually obsessed with keeping track of statistical information that has accumulated over the course of any team’s history, or a person’s career. They value the lifetime batting average of Derek Jeter over a potential date, and will make sure and explain the Broncos Cover 2 defense to a date that can’t tell who’s wearing what uniforms. Interestingly enough, usually a man of this caliber also lacks an extreme amount of social-self worth and confidence, and is often seeking out shallow compliments from his peers (i.e. Thunderstruck).

Men often fall into one of the four categories, with our motivational reasoning being that if we supremely excel in one area, our masculinity will be validated, therefore she will fall head over heels for us. That’s not the case. As a delicate beauty Miss OC Adele once said, “We do think it’s cool if a guy knows his sports, but what else can he do? If I see a guy who’s a really good ball player, I’m like, okay, yeah, you’re a man. What are you going to do next? Fix my car?”

May I put out the stipulation that it is very difficult to find a breeding of man that is overly dominant in more than one area, those do not exist. The bottom line is this: we are simple, stupid creatures.

Always remember that.