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What Is in Jason Statham's Garbage?



Men, the time has come to man-up and do what it takes. Society wants us to do the dishes, wear pink, and listen to Celine Dion.... at the same time.

This is wrong.

The Man Blog is here to right these wrongs and give men everywhere an alternative to a life spent as a weakling.

Imagine: If you went through Jason Statham's garbage, what would you find? Probably a few empty bullet casings, a castaway pair of numchucks, an endorsement contract with BMW, Cuban cigars that didn't meet his standards, and the occasional '84 Bordeaux.

In my experience, such items never come in pink.

So go ahead. Wear that shirt, wash those dishes, but change the oil in your car and go to the shooting range to make up for it. Take a page out of Scott Brown's book and get named the Sexiest Man Alive and run for Senate. If it seems rugged, undeniably masculine, and violent, don't let society drain your virility. Maybe someday your garbage will reek of fine wines and enemies vanquished.



Godspeed, Brothers.

2.24.2010

You Can't Beat the House



Men, a tale of triumph: 

Yesterday I was arguing with a foolish young female freshman at my college – in the middle of class.  Neither of us had any real point, except to outwit and embarrass the other.  Twenty minutes after our little tiff began, the class ended, and so did our tiff.  I tried to forget about the incident.

I returned to my apartment after class and got ready to go to the gym.  But I knew that this brief burst of motivation wouldn’t last all the way to 23rd street.  Instead, I ate a bunch of Valentines Day candy (the benefit of having secret admirers) and gazed at my already awesome muscles, while reciting in the mirror “Are you not entertained?!”  I was entertained.

Anyway, I looked good.  But I decided to move on, so I walked into the living area of my two-room apartment, yelled at my roommates for watching figure skating, and logged onto Facebook to see if any cute girls had “friended” me.  I was disappointed.  The only thing waiting for me was a red flag in my notification box.  I clicked on the flag to find that the same foolish female that wasted my intellectual time during class was back for round two. 

Apparently she recognized that I had won the first match, and wanted to reestablish her emotional confidence.  This is basically how it went: she dissed me, I was cordial, she dissed me again, I was merciful, she tried a third time, I punished her.  My comment was a well-blended cocktail of intellectual knowledge, cleverly placed personal slams, and condescension.  I even threw in some philosophy and references to vector calculus for kicks.  I never got a response so I guess I won.

There isn’t a moral to this story, just a rule.  Men are born with the innate ability to be logical and witty.  Thus, when it comes to debates, men are the house (in casino terms), and the house never loses.  A female might be able to go on a run, but she can never beat the house.  The only part of the house that a female really needs to worry about is the kitchen (and the laundry).  Leave the business negotiations to the big boys – strike the “big.”

Note: I was just served cheese and crackers by this young lady. The universe is in order. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ou0X5D8KKB0


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2 comments:

  1. BG24.2.10

    Great stuff, very inspirational.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Tim Wainwright28.2.10

    Excellent.

    ReplyDelete

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