Breast Man?
Many of you have opined that my blog has been doom and gloom of late, so I am happy to entertain you today. (It just so happens today's blog came up as a result of a casual conversation, and it seemed perfect to break me out of my misery.)
I find myself in the grocery store's hot prepared food section. Notably, I am in front of the fried chicken. Now, I know this stuff is bad for me, but this particular store has meat I have to eat. The aroma is like a damn aphrodisiac -- and it's fried chicken we're talking about. Forget about the calories, my arteries and such. Forget about anything bad anyone ever told me about fried chicken. Forget about the fact that the word "fried" has become such a stigma in this country that even Kentucky "Fried" Chicken became simply KFC. You think that made people forget about what they were getting into? Hell no. So, anyway, I am addicted to this fried chicken. I like the thighs, love the drumsticks and can't stay away from the breasts.
So, here's where I get down to the brass tax of today's blog. A few "girl friends" have asked me if I am a "breast man" or not. Come on, guys (and girls). You know what I am talking about. A breast man, I think? As opposed to what? A nose man? An eye man? A hair man? A hand man? Okay, you got me. I admit. I used to be a breast man. Now, I like everything. Drumsticks, thighs, breasts -- all of it. But, in essence, I find the whole concept funny that we men are thought of as "breast men" -- a category in and of itself; a category where men prefer "boobs" to the rest of a woman's body. I laugh silently to myself when I think of how you women view us based on how we view you.
Look, if you want me to be a "breast man", and pay more attention to that area of your body, fine. But, if you want me to be the "best" man -- seriously, I should enjoy those thighs, drumsticks and the rest of you, too.
I find myself in the grocery store's hot prepared food section. Notably, I am in front of the fried chicken. Now, I know this stuff is bad for me, but this particular store has meat I have to eat. The aroma is like a damn aphrodisiac -- and it's fried chicken we're talking about. Forget about the calories, my arteries and such. Forget about anything bad anyone ever told me about fried chicken. Forget about the fact that the word "fried" has become such a stigma in this country that even Kentucky "Fried" Chicken became simply KFC. You think that made people forget about what they were getting into? Hell no. So, anyway, I am addicted to this fried chicken. I like the thighs, love the drumsticks and can't stay away from the breasts.
So, here's where I get down to the brass tax of today's blog. A few "girl friends" have asked me if I am a "breast man" or not. Come on, guys (and girls). You know what I am talking about. A breast man, I think? As opposed to what? A nose man? An eye man? A hair man? A hand man? Okay, you got me. I admit. I used to be a breast man. Now, I like everything. Drumsticks, thighs, breasts -- all of it. But, in essence, I find the whole concept funny that we men are thought of as "breast men" -- a category in and of itself; a category where men prefer "boobs" to the rest of a woman's body. I laugh silently to myself when I think of how you women view us based on how we view you.
Look, if you want me to be a "breast man", and pay more attention to that area of your body, fine. But, if you want me to be the "best" man -- seriously, I should enjoy those thighs, drumsticks and the rest of you, too.
LOTS of woman need a reason to be insecure, to show they NEED a compliment, which is probably why you'll get asked "do I look good in this, does this suit my figure, do I look too FAT in these pants? are you a BREAST man, do you like mine? how about my legs, etc, etc..." it's just to get the attention for a MAN to give them a compliment....
I'd rather have the BEST man than the breast man myself.......the best one would look me in the eyes when he spoke ;-)
A
Posted by
Andrea |
8:34 AM
Yeah, the BEST would be ideal.
However, if I come across a BREAST man, so be it...I just hope he does a lot of nibbling. ;)
Posted by
Lily |
4:23 PM