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The Student News Site of Saint Louis University

The University News

The Student News Site of Saint Louis University

The University News

Real Men of ______________

Seeing as I’m essentially a self-proclaimed wiener, I look upon the faces of classic tough guys as if they were gods. Names like John Wayne, Samuel L. Jackson, Janet Reno and Wolverine come to mind. These were men who never took guff, men who looked into the face of certain danger and, after taking a puff of a cigar and drinking several gallons of pure rubbing alcohol, said, “Hey . nope.” These were true men, like Harrison Ford who would just as soon smash you in the face with a bar stool as look at you. I say all this sadly, since the opposite sex no longer seems to see any attraction to these rugged types but rather to a type of men who have frosted their hair more than once in their lives.

The tough-guy image is completely different in a woman’s eyes. Where there used to be a mighty gut full of beer (and possibly magic) is instead a chiseled six-pack made rock-hard by rigorous training schedules. A long, threatening drawl made gravely by decades of smoking is simply nothing to a woman-and forget about faces that look like baseball mitts, the leathery look that only comes with years of fighting banditos in the hot Texas sun. You know, the work of a real man. Instead we have the wrinkle-free Paul Walkers and Freddy Prinze Juniors who look as if they should still be dripping baby oil. What about the men who didn’t need dashing good looks but only their fists and dip to survive? Women seem to have no need for men who wear fedoras and race Nazis to Holy Grails and Arks of Covenants, and Molorams to sacred rocks of Indian villages, whoever they may be.

In perhaps the most alarming turn of events, shirts several sizes too small are an absolute hit among resident “tough guys.” Not since Shakespeare was most likely trying on puffy shirts with the froofy prince of Wales from Braveheart has such a terrifying trend in torso-wear occurred. Near the infamous and quite vertical clock tower in the middle of campus, I had a candid interview with one male passerby who in addition to wearing an extra-small pink polo shirt complete with popped collar also had apparently been working out, sans break, since the fall of the Berlin Wall. His arms, which looked to be about the size of canoes, jutted out the sides, and he walked as if carrying invisible suitcases. His hair was short and gelled and there was not a lick of facial hair. For brevity’s sake, I will simply refer to this gentleman as “Chet the Absurdly Muscular Guy.” Our conversation went something exactly like this:

Me: Good afternoon, sir! Do you have a moment?

Chet the Absurdly Muscular Guy: Not for pathetic dingleberries with no hopes of scoring chicks. I just finished my plate of Creatine and gotta snatch up one of the lat machines before Derek gets to the gym and gets them all sweaty.

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Me: I just have a few questions, if you please. May I ask why are you wearing that pink shirt and why is it so tight? Could it be that it was originally intended as a gift for your girlfriend’s Pomeranian, Betsy Sue?

Chet the Absurdly Muscular Guy: No. This shirt speaks worlds about who I am and what I’m about. (Chokes down a pitcher of raw eggs.) I wear it so the ladies can enjoy the view. It’s like they’re on vacation to cloud nine. Later, brah. Frat hard, frat often.

And I had my answer. You have probably noticed these types of individuals in bars. I do not get out that much, seeing as I have approximately three friends, most of whose names contain the word “mother,” but you may notice them. They are the guys hitting on women and ACTUALLY SUCCEEDING in getting digits. Real men used to spend most of their time cutting down trees and laying waste to armies of zombies and/or the cast of The O.C. Still, women see these campus “tough guys” and are being exploited into thinking they’re actually tough. They have clearly been led astray, and this wrong must be righted-or at least slightly frosted for sake of sweetness.

The change starts with you, ladies. If a man offers to buy you a drink at a bar, take a good look at him first. Sure, he may look strong, dark and handsome, but inside he’s really just the kid who sat next to me in third grade and used to punch me because I wore black socks and sandals to school that one day. These are NOT men.

So I urge you to find a real man, a man who can throw a cow clear over the business school or even a man who can simply eat an entire box of nails and then say, “Tastes like Mom used to make ’em!” A guy who can defeat the Emperor and save his dad from the dark side. A guy who can fly. A pirate. A prospector. Any guy named “Shaft” or “Ash.” These are just a few examples. We must turn this trend around once and for all. So stand up for what’s right and kiss a man with a hook for a foot!

Rob Gartland is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences

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