Any time I see some tall, fit, handsome man it makes me feel like “Oh, THAT’S what a man is supposed to be.” and I’m like the cheap bargain inferior generic version of what a man is. Like that guy is the Kellog’s Froot Loops of men, to my store brand “Fruity Rings” of men. Like that guy is the Mattel collector’s edition Superman action figure, and I’m the cheap plastic luchador toy painted to look like Spider-Man and sold in a pack with a cheap Mr. Incredible and a purple Batman at the 99cent store. Like that man probably takes women home and picks them up in his strong arms and the lady is all like swoooon I feel so safe, and then he tosses her on his sturdy bed that he built himself, and it’s an overhead toss too because he’s so strong, he’s all like “RAAAH!” and then after he’s satisfied her completely she’s like “Let me call a taxi.” but he’s like ” No need.” and he tosses her on his back and he runs her home at full sprint. When she gets home she realizes she’s somehow already 5 months pregnant because his seed was so potent. When that baby is born it has a 5 o’clock shadow, even though it’s a girl, that’s just how manly his genes are. He’s a man. He’s like the big budget blockbuster version of a man that general audiences crave. I’m also technically a man, but I’m like the SyFy channel ripoff of that blockbuster movie that has a niche audience of people who’ve got nothing better to do and don’t mind silly things. He’s like Legos, and I’m like that other knock-off shit where you stick the blocks together and you can either never get them apart or never get them to stick together.
But if I’ve got anything going for me, I am like super good at being self-deprecating. The best maybe.