It is pretty funny though. My lady & my friends goof on me all the time about how they’re going to sic the Fab 5 on me & get me a Queer Eye makeover. It’s very funny because this will never fucking happen.

In their eyes I’m a sloppy slovenly man. In my mind I dress for comfort when I’m not at work. My usual garb is jeans, a t-shirt of some rock band & a flannel shirt. I have long hair that goes past my shoulders & I usually have a beard, sometimes a goatee. I like to think it helps me indulge in my fantasy to be a mad hermetic writer emerging only for trips to the supermarket & wrestling Pay-per-views with the boys. Yes, I’m stuck in the 90’s & they can’t have their flannel back, no matter how often they call.

So I wouldn’t subject myself to Queer Eye For The Straight Guy for fear of commiting a hate crime. I’m not homophobic. Gays are fun & I support gay marriage (Strangely enough I’m against straight marriage because they are tedious events to attend). I say I’ll commit a hate crime because I’ll stab anyone who tries to cut off more than 3 inches of split ends from my hair. So what if my black jeans have faded to a tired shade of gray? Should it matter if I’m wearing a 12-year-old Guns N’ Roses shirt? I’m comfortable, goddammit!.

I like comfortable cheap clothes. I like to lounge when I’m not at work & I don’t care if my drink matches my belt. Women of America, stop wanting your men to be like women. You take too long to get ready as it is. We love you & want to make you happy. We’ll try to put a smile on your face, but if all we’re doing is going to a diner, who gives a fuck if my hair is longer than most of the women in the joint?

I’m going to tell all the ladies something. It’s a universal truth that few women acknowledge. YOU CAN’T CHANGE MEN. Many women try. Many women find a guy who’s an asshole, or a drunk or something & think they can change them. You’re wrong. Take a deep breath. Let it sink in. Let’s continue.

I won’t watch Queer Eye, even though most of my male friends do. I’m not sure why. I don’t care about couture. I don’t even know what that is. But I’d watch an episode where they send cameras back into the homes of the guys they’ve made over 6 weeks after the first visit. I guarantee that those homes will have socks piled up in the corner & coasters would not be used on all that Pier 1 furniture. Humans are habitual. We’ll go back to conditions that we can control & that give us solace. So go back & look at those straight men that have been made over. I’m sure they’re shaving against the grain & that bottle of apricot facial cleanser that has only been used twice now sits forgotten in the medicine cabinet behind a bottle of NyQuil.

Ladies, you are loved because you are ladies. We’ll attempt to be what you want, but if it’s not what we want you are so fucked. But your man will try, but fair is fair. What about what we want? All straight men want 1 thing, to be Hugh Hefner. We can’t have the millions of dollars or the plethora of poon tang. We want the Hef date. The Hef date is perfect. Hugh Hefner lays in bed with is cumdumpster for the night, watches movies, then rolls over & gives it to her hard. Not every woman is a cumdumpster of course. But we all want that date. Me, I just wanna lay in bed with my lady, watch Battle Royalle & give it to her hard.

Also I’m not gonna speak for all men, but I don’t tell my woman how to look. I like women who don’t wear a lot of make up. I like seeing my lady bum around the house, late at night in an oversized t-shirt she wears to sleep. Hell, I like when women belch loudly after a good meal. Fuck manners & metrosexuals. In some cultures, belching is a compliment to the chef.

We are who we are. Nobody can change anybody else. So give up. As long as you have someone as crazy as you who makes you happy, just give it to ‘em hard.

R

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