Wednesday March 30, 2005

GUY THING. Like many men with computers, I trawl the web late at night looking for the magic key that will unlock the secrets of poontang. In this evening's quest I found an article in the little-noted Citizen Journal called "Sex, Women, and Conservatism -- I" by one Dallas Claymore. Dallas! I thought, Like the cheerleaders! Yeeee-hawww! and, unloosening my pants, delved in:

For those who grew up in the seventies and eighties, it was a time when boys were expected to follow both the mandates of chivalry and equality. The result often was confusion. It is bewildering for a young man to make sense of how one should behave towards women when every public authority proclaims “Men and Women Are Equal” while these same public authorities rig the laws to favor women over men via affirmative action hiring practices, the creation of a sexual harassment industry, and the unjust treatment of husbands and fathers in divorce and custody courts.

This put me off a little: I somehow got laid in the aforementioned decades. Affirmative action didn't stop me none, no sir. Still, fueled by drink and desire, I pressed on:

The current situation can be depressing and disheartening, but my message to the reader is strictly one of hope. Certainly the culture has become toxic but that does not preclude us from exploiting it to our own advantage.

This piqued my interest; it had a more scholarly air than the usual MAKE WOMEN CUMM spam messages, yet its promise to reveal tools of sexual exploitation were right out of the old playbook! I fished into my trousers and read on:

In light of this, in the chapters that follow, I will identify and analyze many of the tank traps blocking our advancement and suggest the most efficient and least costly ways of getting around them. I certainly am not King Solomon, but I do regard some of my ideas as being valuable and applicable to others.

Yeeee-haw! I thought. Never mind that King Solomon shit -- the only thing I wants to split it that beaver! Yeeeee-haw! Lay on, MacClaymore!

I certainly was never a Don Juan and never will be... the only areas of life in which I outshined others were the result of study and effort.

Uh-Oh, I thought, Nerd alert! But then I thought: This might be the traditional, pathetic come-on -- I was a loser in high-school, girls laughed at me -- before the righteous pornographic reveal! Pants around my ankles, I read on:

Few achievements came naturally, but this is why I am able to convey worthwhile advice. The fact that I am not gorgeous, rich, or connected in any way to famous people is perhaps the reason why I have something legitimate to say about this topic. The mediocrities of my birth necessitated a need for me to pay attention... It’s no accident that Bill Belichick and Bill Parcells were not outstanding football players but turned out to be tremendous coaches because natural phenoms rarely have much of an understanding as to how challenging it is for the average person to perform their craft.

After some squinting and mumbling to myself, I rejoined enthusiastically: I get ya, buddy -- maybe some sorta Jamesian wound took you out of the game, but ya still know something the rest of us can use! I'm with ya, buddy! Preach it!

The freshman co-ed in the Womyn’s Studies ovular has been just as fooled as the manicured Metrosexual with Prada shoes at an Indigo Girls concert. They’re both unwittingly part of an experimental grouping within a sick study created by our social engineers.

YEAH, buddy! Them stupid kids with their fancy shoes don't know nothin'! Preach!

A woman responded to me that my stance was selfish. I countered, “Shouldn’t I be selfish about my own interests?”

Heh heh indeed! Let's do 68 -- you blow me and I'll owe ya one! Heh!

Just last month, I met a guy at the gym who sniffed, after a comment I made about a girl on the Stairmaster, that he “doesn’t look at women in the gym.” I gazed at him with the same bewilderment that I would if I encountered an Ocelot walking down the middle of Madison Street. Why would anyone want to avoid staring at girls in the gym?

Yeeee-haw! I got me the same response when I told this one funny-boy his woman looked like she could suck the chrome offen a tailpipe! Well, I also got my nose broken, but I'm sure Claymore got mystifying powers to prevent such calamities! Come on, Perfesser, let's get to the money-shot!

Lastly, there is the topic of “conservatism” which is part of my title and thank God for that. For one thing, it alerts readers that I may just reference God once in awhile in these pages and will not do so in a mystified or angry manner. For my enemies, this will be a goddessend, as it will allow them to paint me as a religious fanatic which fits in perfectly with their pre-primer understanding of those who are not politically correct.

Aw, shit, I likes to humiliate the ladies as much as the next feller, but damn, buddy, I been readin' all night an' you ain't got it tight! Now come on! Make with the pussy-juicin' secrets!

Finding women attractive is not a political statement. It’s a personal statement and, oftentimes, what is attractive to one of us is not attractive to another. We can live with that To us, the purely personal can remain personal. For this reason, this book could be appreciated by many men who are not conservative in the political sense but are old school types who revel in just being the way they are and despise having to pretend to be something they are not. That is why I ask all of you to join me in this impromptu tour of our milieu and insist that the rest of society tolerate our diversity.

What the motherfuck! WHERE BE THE MONEY SHOT! I spent twenty minutes readin' your come-on, and I ain't learned nothin' 'bout getting my wick dipped! Yuh gimme a stiffee but I lost it in a jiffy, thanks to your political bullshit! Cripes! Lemmee check the Bull Moose site -- they sound kinda manly.
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