Anonymous
Mon Jan 31st, 2005, 09:34 AM
Manliness in danger of extinction
By Zach Parks
I pump iron, because iron-pumping is manly.
I returned to Oxford after a long winter break to find
that my gym had been taken over by idiots. Every
January these collar-popping pansies pollute my gym in
hopes of gaining last-minute beach muscle in time for
spring break. Then, by March they're gone. This futile
attempt to reverse a semester of binge drinking is
turning my palace of testosterone into a combination
of TRL and the Mickey Mouse Club, this annual
phenomenon also illustrates the general lack of
manliness in today's society. Kids these days lack the
sufficient couth, persistence and sportsmanship to
maintain a grueling, manly year-round workout. These
girly-men need to get the hell out of my gym.
I miss days of our grandfathers, back when men were
real men.
Back then the game of dodgeball was played with rocks
and the game of dodgerock was played with knives. I
miss the days when everyone was a badass.
Somehow between then and now fate decided to take a
steaming hot dump all over Darwin's grave as a
generation of salty war veterans gave way to a
generation of scarf-wearing vaginas.
It hurts me to think that for years society stands
idly painting its fingernails while icons like Clint
Eastwood are replaced by wieners like Ryan Seacrest.
If these generations of manly men were still alive
they would spit tobacco juice in Ryan Seacrest's face
and then make him wash and wax their Trans Am.
Back in the good old days things were much simpler.
Back then you could walk into a café and not be
totally confused. This is because back then it didn't
matter if you were trying to order, cappuccino, mocha
latte or espresso they were all called the same thing
- scotch.
Back then four out of five doctors recommended
smoking. This isn't because of doctors' ignorance to
the dangers of smoking. This is because lungs used to
be much more manly. Lungs used to be a manly shade of
black instead of a girly shade of pink. But these days
our lungs have devolved into an advanced state of
weenie-ism making us incapable of enjoying rich
tobacco goodness.
When manly men aren't eating pieces of s*** like you
for breakfast they're eating sausage wrapped in bacon,
wrapped in more bacon and topped with a fried egg, and
they wash it down with a glass of bacon grease, topped
off with a doctor recommended cigarette.
Look at any grumpy old man and the first thing you'll
notice is that he smells like a medium-sized pile of
garbage that is sitting on top of a large-sized pile
of garbage. This is because of years and years of
stink that has built up from a combination of
bare-knuckle boxing and bare-knuckle lumberjacking.
Wimps, weenies and vegetarians are ruining our great
nation. America is on a downward spiral, we've got a
fever and the only prescription is scotch, red meat
and lumberjacks.
By Zach Parks
I pump iron, because iron-pumping is manly.
I returned to Oxford after a long winter break to find
that my gym had been taken over by idiots. Every
January these collar-popping pansies pollute my gym in
hopes of gaining last-minute beach muscle in time for
spring break. Then, by March they're gone. This futile
attempt to reverse a semester of binge drinking is
turning my palace of testosterone into a combination
of TRL and the Mickey Mouse Club, this annual
phenomenon also illustrates the general lack of
manliness in today's society. Kids these days lack the
sufficient couth, persistence and sportsmanship to
maintain a grueling, manly year-round workout. These
girly-men need to get the hell out of my gym.
I miss days of our grandfathers, back when men were
real men.
Back then the game of dodgeball was played with rocks
and the game of dodgerock was played with knives. I
miss the days when everyone was a badass.
Somehow between then and now fate decided to take a
steaming hot dump all over Darwin's grave as a
generation of salty war veterans gave way to a
generation of scarf-wearing vaginas.
It hurts me to think that for years society stands
idly painting its fingernails while icons like Clint
Eastwood are replaced by wieners like Ryan Seacrest.
If these generations of manly men were still alive
they would spit tobacco juice in Ryan Seacrest's face
and then make him wash and wax their Trans Am.
Back in the good old days things were much simpler.
Back then you could walk into a café and not be
totally confused. This is because back then it didn't
matter if you were trying to order, cappuccino, mocha
latte or espresso they were all called the same thing
- scotch.
Back then four out of five doctors recommended
smoking. This isn't because of doctors' ignorance to
the dangers of smoking. This is because lungs used to
be much more manly. Lungs used to be a manly shade of
black instead of a girly shade of pink. But these days
our lungs have devolved into an advanced state of
weenie-ism making us incapable of enjoying rich
tobacco goodness.
When manly men aren't eating pieces of s*** like you
for breakfast they're eating sausage wrapped in bacon,
wrapped in more bacon and topped with a fried egg, and
they wash it down with a glass of bacon grease, topped
off with a doctor recommended cigarette.
Look at any grumpy old man and the first thing you'll
notice is that he smells like a medium-sized pile of
garbage that is sitting on top of a large-sized pile
of garbage. This is because of years and years of
stink that has built up from a combination of
bare-knuckle boxing and bare-knuckle lumberjacking.
Wimps, weenies and vegetarians are ruining our great
nation. America is on a downward spiral, we've got a
fever and the only prescription is scotch, red meat
and lumberjacks.