Hello! Readers! How are we all doing then, this cold September evening? I, well, I'm feeling quite manly, which goes in some way to explaining the above average level of aggression in my traditional opening greeting. (Not that I wish to imply that all men are aggressive nor that women can't be aggressive).
What is the reason of my rocketing testosterone today? Well, I've been reminded today that in my capacity as, I hope, a modern gentleman, one must really analyse the word gentleman itself with particular emphasis on the fact that it consists of "Gentle" and "MAN". (Not that I wish to imply that any woman should behave like a man if they wish to become a gentlewoman, unless they want to).
Specifically I was reminded of it when I was sat in my room this afternoon, listening to "The Count of Monte Cristo" on audio-book and playing "Shadow of the Colossus", two pursuits that, when combined, are what experts everywhere describe as frickin' awesome, when I hear a voice float up from downstairs telling me that I was needed for MANUAL LIFTING.
Well, what could I do, a gentleman such as myself? I put on my vest and my trousers with braces and picked out my finest mustache. Then I got to work.
There is something delightfully refreshing about engaging in an activity that requires physical exertion, such as what I was doing - emptying a room to make way for builders, that leaves one feeling curiously happy in a detached way, especially when, like me you go through most of your days lifting nothing heavier than your laptop. I tell you, it transformed me from a geeky social reject to some sort of hybrid of Hercules and Bob the Builder.
That's not of course to mention the great feeling of manliness it gave me! (Not that I wish to imply that one needs to be a man to be able to lift things). I was on such a testosterone high that afterwards, when walking my dog I found myself exploring new paths down through unfamiliar territories. Suddenly, I was now Christopher Columbus mixed with Kraven the Hunter.
If you think that these fantasies are childish, can you really honestly look me in the eye and say that you have never entertained such a heroic image of yourself? And, yes, it does count if you did so ironically.
Anyway, I seem to be occasionally gripped with these manly feelings at strange and seemingly random intervals. Once I remember, at a birthday party, I didn't have a sleeping-bag so instead opted to sleep in a chair, despite their insistence that they had plenty of blankets. But no, I had a bee in my bonnet, yesterday I was merely a boy, but today I was some sort of cross between a manly hobo and a... busy guy who fell asleep in a chair. But not only that dear readers, oh no. I decided that opposed to a blanket I was going to use only my denim jacket. There was so much testosterone in the air that everyone within a hundred mile radios immediately sprouted a beard. Of course, the effect was rather ruined as during the next sleepover I shared a bed with another man. (Not that I wish to imply that one must be a man to sleep in a chair or that sleeping with men if your a man cannot be in every way as manly as not doing so or indeed sleeping with a man if your a woman).
Well, I hope you enjoyed my brief foray into the wonderful world of manliness, but now I'm afraid I must go to bed... in a bed.
Good night.
What is the reason of my rocketing testosterone today? Well, I've been reminded today that in my capacity as, I hope, a modern gentleman, one must really analyse the word gentleman itself with particular emphasis on the fact that it consists of "Gentle" and "MAN". (Not that I wish to imply that any woman should behave like a man if they wish to become a gentlewoman, unless they want to).
Specifically I was reminded of it when I was sat in my room this afternoon, listening to "The Count of Monte Cristo" on audio-book and playing "Shadow of the Colossus", two pursuits that, when combined, are what experts everywhere describe as frickin' awesome, when I hear a voice float up from downstairs telling me that I was needed for MANUAL LIFTING.
Well, what could I do, a gentleman such as myself? I put on my vest and my trousers with braces and picked out my finest mustache. Then I got to work.
There is something delightfully refreshing about engaging in an activity that requires physical exertion, such as what I was doing - emptying a room to make way for builders, that leaves one feeling curiously happy in a detached way, especially when, like me you go through most of your days lifting nothing heavier than your laptop. I tell you, it transformed me from a geeky social reject to some sort of hybrid of Hercules and Bob the Builder.
That's not of course to mention the great feeling of manliness it gave me! (Not that I wish to imply that one needs to be a man to be able to lift things). I was on such a testosterone high that afterwards, when walking my dog I found myself exploring new paths down through unfamiliar territories. Suddenly, I was now Christopher Columbus mixed with Kraven the Hunter.
If you think that these fantasies are childish, can you really honestly look me in the eye and say that you have never entertained such a heroic image of yourself? And, yes, it does count if you did so ironically.
Anyway, I seem to be occasionally gripped with these manly feelings at strange and seemingly random intervals. Once I remember, at a birthday party, I didn't have a sleeping-bag so instead opted to sleep in a chair, despite their insistence that they had plenty of blankets. But no, I had a bee in my bonnet, yesterday I was merely a boy, but today I was some sort of cross between a manly hobo and a... busy guy who fell asleep in a chair. But not only that dear readers, oh no. I decided that opposed to a blanket I was going to use only my denim jacket. There was so much testosterone in the air that everyone within a hundred mile radios immediately sprouted a beard. Of course, the effect was rather ruined as during the next sleepover I shared a bed with another man. (Not that I wish to imply that one must be a man to sleep in a chair or that sleeping with men if your a man cannot be in every way as manly as not doing so or indeed sleeping with a man if your a woman).
Well, I hope you enjoyed my brief foray into the wonderful world of manliness, but now I'm afraid I must go to bed... in a bed.
Good night.
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