Good news, ladies! Men are back.
Or rather, MEN are back. And not just MEN, either, but REAL MEN,
men who know exactly what you want and stand unafraid of giving
it to you in precisely the quantities they know you need. Men
of old, men of renown who perspire freely. Land grabbers, warmongers,
men who want nothing more than to work on their motorcycles all
day while not wearing shirts. Men who don't know how to cook,
and don't want to know; men who wouldn't even if they could. (Truth
be know, these men don't even want to eat. They just want to drink
beer.) Men are back, surly morons who all look the same and play
pool all night, men whose fetching come-hither scent is bewitchingly
reminiscent of Bambi's soft-and-tenders. Men who don't loaf around
in the library all day. The men you've been pining for have finally
returned.
But there are changes! Perhaps not changes, really; merely new angles, new facets and facades of MEN that you may have never seen except in this bright new masculine light. For example: would you have ever thought that a REAL MAN would wear pinstripes and a tie? But there he is! Real MEN know that there's power in America that goes beyong the bicep: a man isn't really a MAN unless he's Doing the Deal, making wheels turn! The MAN who's REAL knows, just as he knows that women desire him, that money is where it's at. The MAN remembers how to push people around (and that includes you too, gals). But don't worry: even though he's greasing the gears of Capital, he's still the rugged behemoth you want to fawn over. All you have to do is take off his very expensive shirt, and there's the broad hairless chest you've been waiting for. And always in evidence is the perfectly styled hair, with that one lock always slightly out of place as if it had just fallen there by accident; and always there is that casually cruel expression that tells you exactly what you want to hear -- "I couldn't care less about you. You are my plaything. I have chosen you to amuse me." But there's still plenty of surprises in store: is your REAL MAN embarrassed to be seen cavorting barefoot on a beach with a gigantic Earth ball? No he is not! Because, of course, any opportunity to appear shirtless. Does our REAL MAN pale at the prospect of wearing spectacles? No he does not! Because despite the presence of sissified glasses, he knows that you've figured out they're fake; and besides, he's still got the hair and the chest and the look and the cold blue eyes (contacts under glasses: our MAN is a man of many levels!) and that cowcatcher chin. And he can always take the damn cheaters off.
Your MAN looks sexy in jeans again. Your MAN is surly, a Brandoesque wifebeater lurking beneath each cologne ad. Your MAN is wealthy again, goony football stud inprobably driving a Lexus, women everywhere knowing what a big cock he must have to drive such an expensive yet sound automobile. Your MAN is dumb again, the meager thoughts behind that sweat-sexy forehead never straying far from the subject of his next shot, his next lay, his next beer. Your MAN finally has his priorities straight, wasting not time being sick or going to school or trying to understand someone as different as his woman. He knows that what's important is making himself (and you) happy in your own little world, no matter what it happens to cost you. Your MAN is finally yours, every finely sculpted, silent, starkly photographed, low-angled, dramatically lit, flash-frozen pixel of him; and he's yours at a cost well within our means.
Good news, ladies! Men are back. Buy now, while supplies last.
Quote of the Day: "The greatest crimes are caused by surfeit, not by want. Men do not become tyrants so as not to suffer cold." (Aristotle)