The downfall of manhood - metrosexuals

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!

One of the few pleasures I get from dragging three children to the barber shop is the small thrill of seeing cute young college boys in the barber shop or watching them walk by. Our favorite place to go is located right on the campus of the University of North Texas. But, today, I was sadly disappointed. All I saw were the artsy dorks on skateboards with cigarettes, some Mexicans and trailer trash ripping up a street (big shock - here, the streets are ripped up daily by city crews and left for weeks before they're repaired, but that is another blog entry entirely) and a whole slew of fag-boys carrying man-purses. Who the hell inspired this trend? What happened to the good old Jansport backpack?

I'm sorry if I offend my homosexual friends - you know I love you - but come on. Straight men should NEVER ever consider carrying a man purse. It is wrong. And, speaking of wrong, the Fab Five Queer Eye for the Straight Guy guys should be shipped back to San Francisco with the rest of the hippies (quoting Cartman here) because this is just messed up. If I want to screw someone prettier than me, I'll get a girlfriend. I think this thing has gone way overboard. Yes, we do like a man who will shed a tear when his dog or his grandpa dies. It is okay to let a tear stream down your cheek when your wife gives birth to your first born son. But, for God's sakes, leave it to me to cry at the Deep Space Nine season ender or the Kleenex commercials. You are not allowed to cry over something like that. But, back to the faggoty man-purses. I was deeply saddened to see so many otherwise hot young guys looking like homos carrying purses. Now, you can tell a husband who is carrying his wife's purse so she can tend to the children or carry her shopping bags or try on some new lingerie at Victoria's Secret. All are perfectly acceptable reasons to carry a purse, but if you're carrying your wallet in there - your man card is about to be revoked.

I read a great piece from Espn.com about the metrosexual trend last year and it is a good read. This woman speaks for many of us - me included. I want a sweaty, hairy, nut-scratching guy. Yes, he grosses me out when we're going to sleep and he rips a stinky fart, but you know what? That is what men do. And, I'm sure in some deep dark recess of our brains, we secretly are jealous of their ability to do that and not turn 14 shades of red. I love relying on my man to protect me, mow my lawn and fix our effed up air conditioning unit if he has to.

This ESPN Page 2 column tells it like it is.

I did a websearch to see how prevalent these things are and this fagmo has a whole website dedicated to where you can buy these things. Ohmifreakinggod. He even likes to shop for this stuff. Where does the insanity end?

I'm just glad that I have a real guy. I know, I know. There are moments when I would give my left boob for him to be a little more sensitive to me - there are too many occasions to give a great example, but he has his moments and for the most part, I would rather him be one of those guys that does the "I'm so macho" naked dance around the house than someone who spends more time grooming than a super model.

You can find out if you're a metrosexual by taking this quiz.

And, let's try to get rid of the man-purse thing. Please.