i’ve known some heroes in my life. men unaware of their own valiancy. this imbecil is not one of them.
women are a #%*&@ to understand.
on my morning run, a guy on a motorcycle [scratch that. metal dick] grabbed my ass mid-transit.
brief space for conventional reactions.
he actually had to cross the road into oncoming traffic. oh, the bravery.
i gave him the finger and yelled something useless in incoherent spanglish. he had already passed. he didn’t see my vulgarities. i should likely be grateful. less incentive. i think they like it when you swear.
don’t take lightly the danger to which this renders a real heroe’s future interraction with excellent women. the more this happens, the harder it is for us to find you. ironic peice of shit, isn’t it.
i am starting a personal campaign. “down with arrogance”, i’ll call it. idiot.
i’m just saying…it ruins chivalry. we become feminists because we think that we need to. they mistake an overabundance of ego for genuine self worth. we stop believing in heroes. and i’m left with a sting on my glute. what the hell, man.
i really have known some exceptional men though. still do. i must still hurt a little from the non-heroes, though. i file good men together with santa claus. as if one day a real adult will break it to me that it’s not just the ones in mall, with the fake beards and sausage breath, that aren’t real. the real thing isn’t even real anymore. ouch.
that’s not the end of the story. i believe in joy, and i still believe in heroes. i just don’t know how far we’ll need to go to find them.