Archive for the Talking to myself Category

Chocolate or Strawberry?

Posted in Talking to myself on July 4, 2008 by benntan

 

There comes a point in every boy’s life when he becomes a man. For some, it could be the time they finally decide to get married. For others it could simply be the first time they get jiggy with it. For me, it was visiting Toyko DisneySea. You see, I was, unfortunately, born with an absolute fear of heights. So when my newly wedded wife decided to drag my pansy-ass on board the Tower of Terror Ride, it was only natural that I screamed and waved my arms around like the blonde victim in a slasher flick. And it wasn’t till we finally got on the ride itself that I stopped my flawless impersonation of a lost little girl – because it was then that I decided to start acting like a man. After all, I was surrounded by a bevy of hot Japanese girls who didn’t seem the least bit frightened about plummeting 13 stories downwards at 100km/h.

 

Two minutes later, the ride was over and I am proud to say that I didn’t scream one bit – it is a little hard to scream while you’re unconscious. When I finally came to, and after washing off the pee stains on my jeans, I told my wife how impressed I was by the bravery of all the Japanese girls that were with us on the ride. She then said something that shocked me more than the time I found out Vader was Luke’s father. They were not ALL girls. But how could this be? Did my eyes deceive me? Or was I just too distracted by the prospect of plunging to my death to do my routine scrutiny of all hot women I come across? It didn’t matter. The fact remains – I thought that they were all girls.

 

Let me take things back a little. From the moment that we arrived in Tokyo, all I could think about were two things – Japanese food and Japanese women, both of which makes me salivate uncontrollably at the mere mention of them. Why their food? That’s because I’m a greedy slob. Why their women? Does one even have to ask? I’ll admit, Japanese women may not necessarily be the prettiest women on earth. I mean, have you seen them smile? It seems as if most of them have spent their formative years chewing iron and drinking hydrochloric acid. Think of the O.K. Pocky! woman when she sweetly smiles and says, “Chor-ko-rate or Staw-beri!” but ten times worse and I think you’ll get the picture. But despite their mouthful of shortcomings, these Japanese girls know how to dress. Knee-high leather boots, mini skirts, layered tops and an overdose of bling around their necks coupled with delicately put on make up and styled up hair – and that’s just the mothers.

 

So how on earth was I not able to distinguish between a Japanese male and female? I believe the fault lies with what I’d like to call, “The Gatsby Generation.” We’ve all seen the recent commercials for Gatsby’s hair wax and hummed along to the catchy jingle while styling our own hair. Yes, the one with the long-haired actor twirling his hair and body around like a ballerina on pot. Great ad. It certainly made my hair stand without the wax.

 

As an observation, this latest long-haired urban male look is also accompanied by a penchant for tight tapered jeans, torn jackets and Elvish styled boots – the ones that curl upwards at the toes, think of Santa’s helper Elves rather than the cool ones from Middle Earth. To top things off, hip Japanese males also pluck their eyebrows. The hipper you are, the thinner the eyebrows. And I’m not talking about trimming a uni-brow, I’m saying some of these guys actually had eyebrows better groomed than some Singapore women you see on the bus everyday. Wow. How thoroughly manly.

 

But seriously, what has happened to the man’s man? The tough, couldn’t-give-a-crap-about-the-way-I-dress or how I look, beer guzzling, cigarette smoking, t-shirt and jeans guy? Is this image of the alpha male slowly vanishing? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for better understanding between the sexes. Men should be more sensitive to a woman’s needs. I just don’t believe we should start dressing or looking like them to feel more in tune.

 

As a proud supporter of freedom of expression, men wanting to look more feminine for the sake of fashion shouldn’t grind my gears as much. But when I am ogling at a potentially hot girl from the back, I do not want to be greeted by a Decepticon in the front. If so, then, “Autobots! REEETREEEAAAT!”

 

What I’m simply trying to say is that men should act like men – play sports, drink beer, go fishing, watch porn. And do all this, without having to worry about a pedicure, which Elvish boots to wear or the evenness of their eye brows. Could you imagine what would happen if John Rambo decided he was not ready to fight because his eye brows were not trimmed or if Indiana Jones wouldn’t explore the Temple of Doom because his chest hair wasn’t groomed? I shudder at the thought. For it is truly my sincere hope that one day down the road everyone would still be able to easily differentiate chocolate from strawberry.

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