UNIVERSAL DONOR: MA VIE EN CROUTE
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Universal Donor
We can ill afford another Klendathu You are just a number to me! And that number is: PAGES UD MADE: My Books Page My Reviews Page My Reference Page My Music Page My Pictures My Store UD-RELATED PAGES: My LiveJournal My MySpace music page My Flickr page My del.icio.us page My Last.fm page My Amazon Wishlist HEAVY ROTATION Dan Deacon: Bromst Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavillion Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago Vampire Weekend: Vampire Weekend Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes BLOGS ETC claude le monde nuncstans rock 'em stock 'em tomato nation postmodern drunkard tuckova 22 ghastly mess constintina total virility fuzzysquid drunken bee stacey nightmare elyse from ANTM stereolabrat dark side points jf_franklin 123 i love you READ NOW brotherhood 2.0 NOT BLOGS ETC qwantz (dinosaur comix) go fug yourself the burg cat and girl book of ratings married to the sea icanhascheezburger fire joe morgan fivethirtyeight.com READ NOW hospitality on parade WEIRD LOVE dead amusement pks craters! all content © 2002-2010 Jeremy Broomfield
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Monday, July 12, 2004
I've probably said a million times that I don't have a lot of male friends, or that I don't usually get along with men, or even, if I was feeling particularly snarky, that I don't like men. Sometimes I just say "most of my friends are, and always have been, female." Whatever. I just sorta let you know, and you can do with it what thou wilt. I realize that I've never explained why I can't hang with the XY. I've never actually thought about it too hard, because I never thought it was a real problem, but maybe it deserves a little rumination. And let's put aside, for now, that the root of the problem is almost definitely a lack of masculine role models during my formative years, and instead examine the effect.
I think it's that I'm always afraid of what will happen if I just hang out with a guy. I have foggy notions of what straight men do together, mostly assembled from movies or television. But correct me if I'm wrong about the following ways men interact. 1) STRIP CLUBS. I'm always afraid that I'll be hanging out with some dude and he'll be like "let's head on down to the strip club." Is there a way to say no without showing your violent nauseous disgust with the dude who suggests it? I find it horrifying that men do this. First of all, the idea of a place where the entire purpose is to get drunk and stare at naked woman for money is just fucking stupid. Stupid. Also, it's gross, and it's emotionally stunted. Now when you see scenes in movies of women going to a Chippendale's-type place, they're always whooping it up and giggling, looking at each other and waggling their eyebrows, covering their faces, and generally having a blastaroo. It's a social event, a shared transgression. But with men, it's not celebratory at all, nor is it shared. It's furtive, or sleazy, and solitary, even though they're there together. Right? 2) TALKING ABOUT WOMEN. The idea of a man saying to me: "wow, check out the tits on that one! Wouldn't you like to take those home and squeeze 'em?" (or whatever) makes me almost crap my pants. How is this different from him saying: "Check out the vagina on that one! Wouldn't you like to move your penis in and out of that vagina until you ejaculate?"? it's only a matter of degree. Oh, disgusting. Again, when women do this kind of thing, like make a statement about some guy's "butt," it just seems like their hearts aren't really in it. They want to piss on the man's behavioral turf, but their plumbing makes it too difficult. This is all so stupid, so I'll stop now. Aside from the fact that I can't hold my attention span together long enough to make this coherent or comprehensive, it's also totally disingenuous. Because I have a bunch of male friends, and I can hang out with any of them without fear of the above happening, because they are sensitive, intelligent, creative people. I don't hate the kind of man that I am most likely to come in contact with in my social circle -- I hate the other men, the slack-jawed, muscle-pumped doofi of the world. AND IF YOU'RE READING THIS, YOU DO TOO. But it's not a problem, because I almost never have to deal with Manly Men in a meaningful way. So what the fuck? Maybe I feel overprotective of all the girls that have to swat these monkeys away every time they go out for a drink, and maybe I feel a little ashamed of the fact that I could not physically defend any of my friends from an overbearing ogre, that in fact a Girl Scout could kick my ass with one hand bowlined to her badge sash. I have to post this unpolished because I am now having a total panic attack because I just found out that I'm hosting trivia night at a bar on Wednesday and I have done NOTHING TO PREPARE. I AM SO FUCKED. GABBLE! 0 comments |
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