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originally posted by: ketsuko
Uh, according to these guys in the Amazon of Brazil, you have to wear Bullet Ant gloves for five minutes without crying a total of 20 times to prove you are a warrior and man, and you can't be counted on to provide for a family until you can be called a warrior. So, this is what they think it takes in 2014.
They're tougher than the average 1st World meatball ... that's for sure.
originally posted by: ValentineWiggin
2014: To prove his manhood a man must be an awesome Father.
originally posted by: beezzer
a reply to: jude11
2014- To prove he is a man, a man must; wear skinny jeans, cry during an HBO special, protest, get a piercing or three, some hoop things in his ears, a facial tattoo, wear a Che t-shirt when he visits his parents to ask for more money, and honestly complain why he can't get a job while defending the reasons why he is not working at any job.
originally posted by: jude11
originally posted by: ValentineWiggin
2014: To prove his manhood a man must be an awesome Father.
Chuck E. Cheez?
Can I just wrestle a Mastodon?
Peace
originally posted by: beezzer
a reply to: jude11
2014- To prove he is a man, a man must; wear skinny jeans, cry during an HBO special, protest, get a piercing or three, some hoop things in his ears, a facial tattoo, wear a Che t-shirt when he visits his parents to ask for more money, and honestly complain why he can't get a job while defending the reasons why he is not working at any job.
originally posted by: beezzer
a reply to: jude11
2014- To prove he is a man, a man must; wear skinny jeans, cry during an HBO special, protest, get a piercing or three, some hoop things in his ears, a facial tattoo, wear a Che t-shirt when he visits his parents to ask for more money, and honestly complain why he can't get a job while defending the reasons why he is not working at any job.
originally posted by: ketsuko
originally posted by: beezzer
a reply to: jude11
2014- To prove he is a man, a man must; wear skinny jeans, cry during an HBO special, protest, get a piercing or three, some hoop things in his ears, a facial tattoo, wear a Che t-shirt when he visits his parents to ask for more money, and honestly complain why he can't get a job while defending the reasons why he is not working at any job.
I thought he had to wear footie pajamas and glasses and spoil everyone's Christmas by discussing Obamacare and how great it is while sipping hot chocolate as he sits Indian-style on the couch.
Oh, wait! Is that racist to say Indian-style now? Maybe I should just say sits like a Kindergartner ...
originally posted by: beezzer
a reply to: jude11
I appreciate the humor, but in a more serious vein your thread brought to mind this. . .
If—
By Rudyard Kipling
(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!