Wednesday, April 18, 2012

I L-word Being a Man

As most of you know, I grew up in a very unique household surrounded by women. I say that meaning that I had 11 sisters. Sisters who were very girly, very feminine. However, I stood my ground and maintained my masculine side. And I have a few things to say about how I love being a man.

I love being a man. I love not worrying about whether my toilet seat is up or down. I love getting excited about watching things blow up. I love reciting the story line of the 2004 NBA finals. I love not worrying about if my pants match my shoes. I love not having to put on makeup before I go out in public.

I love getting out of the shower, stopping and flexing in front of my mirror, and thinking that I’m the sexiest guy in the whole world. True story ladies, every guy does that. I love being able to get ready for the day in under five minutes. I love not worrying about excusing the mess to guests at my apartment, simply because most guys are messy and I have a reason for my messiness.

I love lounging around in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts all day long and not feeling guilty about it at all. I love eating a double cheeseburger at one in the morning and not worrying about if any of it is going to my thighs. I love watching the Super Bowl not just for the commercials. I love ogling over a picture of Carmen Electra just because I can. I love not having to worry about the agony of childbearing.

I love discussing the latest car trends with a group of my buddies not any of us having a clue of what we’re talking about. I love not asking people for directions when I’m lost. I love watching Dumb and Dumber hundreds of times and still laughing at the same jokes over and over again. I love talking about hunting stories with my buddies that we’ve all been on, and exaggerating the details until the story is nearly unbelieveable. I love growing a beard and pretending to be the Brawny man, or Paul Bunyan.

I love having enough pride to cheer on a football team that hasn’t had a winning season in seven years. I love going camping, not showering for five days and still feeling like a million bucks. I love not asking my buddy if the pair of pants that I’m wearing makes me look fat. I love talking about whose truck could beat up whose. I love having the ability to go to the bathroom wherever I want to. I love having a simple life. I love being able to be pleased easily.

I love understanding how an engine works. I love having the words testosterone in my vocabulary and not estrogen, as well as in my body too. I love watching movies that have massive explosions and fast car chases, and not ones that have long distance love, and romance from beyond the grave. I love not crying at the sight of a deer drinking out of a pond at sunrise while classical music plays in the background.

I love getting excited over a good set of nachos. I love seeing how many gummi bears I can stuff in my mouth on a Saturday night after drinking a 24 pack of Mt. Dew with my buddies. I love watching four hours of Sportscenter a day and being entertained throughout it all. I love pretending to know what I’m talking about when a girl asks me something about cars. I love being a man.

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