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I’m a stay-at-home dad to twin 4-year-old girls who are already smarter than me, and my wife is a brilliant doctor who kicks ass and saves lives every day.

From an article by a nominal man who feebly spurts many words onto Slate’s page describing how much his penis scares him.

Congratulations, Mr. Andy Takes-It-In-The-Hinds, your utterance is event horizon manboobery.

The manboobs have been emerging from their micropeen dens in force lately, poking their cock thimbles into the daylight for a breath of fresh air. There is no depth of self-degradation which they will not entertain to relieve themselves of the burden of being born male.

It’s enough nauseating masochism and putrid suck-uppery to make one wonder if the whole thing, written on the Slate halls and the Salon walls, is one giant schtick. Performance parody art that has somehow gelled organically to coax the mischievous participation of male simulacra from across the media landscape.

If only it were so. But no, the likelihood is that these loathsome creatures are sincere. Blame it on estrogen in the water, the lack of a cleansing apocalypse, or feminist shrikes lashing fat nerds with their six inch clits, the fact is that the sack of America is shrinking and her bitch tits are filling up with ululating manboobs.

Some readers may wonder, if this guy is such a grotesquerie in spirit and mind, how did he manage to get a wife? Well, quality matters. If you’re fishing around the dregs of womanhood, it’s not hard to wife up. The orcas and pasty frumps and stubbly manjaws will practically throw themselves at you. Another thing to keep in mind is that just because a guy can claim married status doesn’t necessarily mean he’s enjoying the marital fruits, if’n ya know what I mean.


A charitable reader suggests that this manboob is actually engaged in a form of psychological passive-aggressive warfare with an intended audience of one: His breadwinner wife. He wants his ballbusting, careerist Asian wife to know he has options, or at least that he has been thinking about having options, and the manbooby way to deliver this message is by puling about how ashamed he is of his lustful thoughts for all the hotties he sees every day. Of course, he wouldn’t have to put on this circus if he wasn’t a stay-at-home castrati married to a Tiger doctor. But he is, and so he finds himself using a warped variant of Dread Game to keep his wife interested.


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