Where are the men? I don’t want to hear from metrosexual braggarts who spend more on face cream and furniture than my car costs; men who are more excited about going to the mall than I am; men who have on more jewelry than I do! Give me a man in a t-shirt and jeans. And those jeans better not cost more than thirty dollars either. We’re in a recession, damn it. And while we’re on the subjects of clothes, take off that t-shirt that looks like a dress! And find one that doesn’t give epileptics seizures! Why are you dressing like a toddler? No one will buy your subpar ringtone music if you look like you’ve completed puberty? Put on some clothes that fit properly! Buy a suit that isn’t velvet or a Day-Glo color. Act like you have some class and functioning retinas when you appear at an awards ceremony!
I want to hear from a man who makes me want to whip up home-cooked meals; a man I’d bring a beer and a sandwich to while he watches the game; a man that doesn’t scramble to get R. Kelly on a remix or crack jokes about “fast ass” little black girls. Real men don’t tolerate child molesters. Real men plant and nurture seeds. They don’t pluck them. Real men don’t act like children with wounded egos. They don’t make YouTube clips to throw shade. They don’t run to gossip columnists or mixtape DJs to snitch about someone else being a snitch. Why? They’re too busy minding their own business. And making that business grow.
I’m so tired of these fools. I swear.
As an aside, I want to make clear that cooking or bringing a man a beer and a sandwich is not a woman’s role or something a woman is obligated to do. I just like making my partner feel comfortable. If I were a lesbian, I’d still be making sandwiches and bringing beers. And if I were man, I’d do the same.