Last night, at an outing with my work team, one of my co-workers told me that although he is not my blog's number one target group, he does read it and like it. That made the ol' noodle start storming with the possibilities of who/what my target group consists of: Avocados? Buffy? Ex-Sephora employees? My mom? Charmander? I couldn't conceive of a group of people that my blog would be specifically catered to, so I asked my co-worker what target group he was referring to. "Chicks," he said.
Now, although I like to think that I have a strong, devoted, hunky, male fan-base that isn't just my boyfriend, Sam, I am now entertaining the possibility that I could be wrong. So, without further ado, here is a post that's not about makeup, homemade sea salt hair spray, or gynecologists (cervix goblins) and is, instead, about the things that are really important in a man's world.
Grabbing a rib from a giant pile on a plate and chomping the meat straight from the bone makes you feel like a strong, powerful lion (except lions rarely use plates). Ribs are delicious and lots of animals have edible ones. Whether baby back, short, spare, or Adam's, ribs are always a delicious, manly treat. Without counting the wheel and fire, ribs are probably one of the most well-known caveman accessories (talking out of my ass at about 80 knots here [I'm not sure why I'm on a boat either]). Fact: Men can perform surgery on themselves, breaking off their own ribs which will then generate into a human woman.
Tom Selleck's Mustache
|Need I say more?|
Blowing Up Old Spice Headquarters
Picture it: Explosions that smell like pine and musk, people running for cover from "Playmaker"-scented smoke clouds and fire, you standing there, covered in soot and sweat, surrounded by dynamite. Albeit a bit on the dangerous and life-threatening side, blowing up Old Spice headquarters would surely earn you a spot in the Manliness Hall of Fame (which I just made up). You'll probably be arrested afterwards but hey, that's the risk REAL men take.
Hard Liquor Just
No juice. No soda. No tonic water. No vermouth. No. Fucking. Ice. I'm not talking about throwing it back in a little, baby 1 oz glass either. Ordering scotch, whiskey, bourbon, moonshine, or anything else that will burn like turpentine going down without anything to dull down the potency is the way to drink like a fucking boss. I did this once in the comfort of my own home and was immediately mistaken by one of my roommates as an alcoholic, male intruder. Two sips later and I stopped menstruating.
Owning Something That Could Kill People
Don't listen to your friends when they tell you that buying a gun, cobra, black widow spider, or machete is a bad/dangerous idea. If you own something that could kill someone, you call the shots. Why? Because if someone else tries to, you could murder them. A man doesn't sit back and let others steer the boat (the one I was on before, I guess?). He takes the wheel (paddle?) into his own hands and tells everyone else what to do. What better way to insure that this happens than carting around toxic pets or lethal weapons? I can't think of any.
Picture it glistening on gigantic, hairy pecs. Go on, do it. Sweat is where it's at if you're a man. Fact: Most men actually conserve their own sweat and use it as bathwater biweekly. Pro-Taylor Tip: Deodorant isn't just for the underarms. Smear that shit everywhere if you sweat like a beast or just rub it on your forehead to prevent nasty, greasy, sweat-drenched bangs. If you're a man, ignore the above tip. Just sweat all over the place and don't give a single fuck.
So, you have your plate of ribs, you're Tom Selleck, you just blew up the Old Spice headquarters, you're drinking scotch in a fancy glass, you have an uzi and a box jellyfish at your disposal, and you're all hot and sweaty. So, what are you lounging on? You bet your ass you're lounging on a bear-skin rug. Nothing says "I'm a fucking man" like being in a complete state of relaxation on the hide of a dead carnivore. The only think better and more suited to the comfort of a true man would be if velociraptor-skin rugs were available. I sense a business venture!
So, now that I've captured the attention of men everywhere with this list and have about a zillion new male followers, I'd like to break the news to you that this list was complete bullshit. I have a vagina and I love all of the things on this list. In fact, there's probably nothing on this earth I wouldn't give up to have Tom Selleck's mustache on my face and a velociraptor-skin rug to stretch out my stems on. A couple makeup posts here and there does not a chick blog make. Let this be a lesson to you all!