Manvice: Installment 2

Nobody cares about how much time you spent gelling your hair, chief. Nobody cares how many Tapout shirts you own, or how many times you pop your collar in a week. The correct number is 0, unless you’re putting on a tie. Nobody cares what band you support, or what era you endorse via your Iron Man or TMNT re-print.

Men don’t tan. Men work. Our bodies are supposed to stay a nice shade of pale. Our dark arms represent hard work. Our chests are not supposed to be smooth. This is why Zeus gave us hair.

Some un-males will have you believe that you are unattractive if you don’t have 31 sets of abs, or if you aren’t the right shade of Oompa Loompa. I do not want the men of the future to grow up thinking a spray tan, popped collar, Miata, or listening to euro-trash is what defines you as an Alpha Male.

Men, you know what defines you as an Alpha Male? Farmer’s tans. Plaid shirts with buttons. Dirty jeans, and physical labour. Put down your gel, hair dryer and bronzer. Pick up a pitchfork, there’s work to do, chief.


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