Hello ladies. I'm a man. A very marvelous man.

My name is Slim Jackson and I’m a man. I burp, lean to the left and cut the cheese, play sports, cook steaks, assert my manliness by inserting my manliness into (attractive) members of the opposite sex, and I swear. When disrespected, my testosterone and ego sometimes get the best of me and I end up going Hulk. I even once suplexed a man into oncoming traffic because he bumped into my shoulder when he was walking his poodle. I also hold open doors for women, listen well, and get teary-eyed when I watch shows like Undercover Boss and Intervention. I do not, however, own a snuggie.

A lot of things that men do are often attributed to their chromosome makeup. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard someone use “Because I’m a grown ass man” as an excuse for why they did or didn’t do something. We’ll also engage in a lot of dumb sh*t just to prove that we’re 100% testosterone and to avoid being called effeminate or catching the ATL side-eye. I mean…women like manly men. I get it. The thing that trips me out is that I can ask 10 different chicks how they would define manliness and I’m likely to hear something about taking charge, their back breakability quotient, and not b*tching up and sobbing like someone ate his porridge.

There are a few myths out there about certain actions and behaviors that take away from a man’s liness and put him in the less than humpable category for the women that seek shaft. You damn right. I’d like to think that I’m a bit of a myth buster. And with that being the case, I wanted to debunk a few of them –partially just by existing– and offer some advice to the lads out there that are risking injury and their lives just to prove their men. Don’t get it twisted though. When it comes to basketball or thronxing, I play through the pain. There’s is no coming out of the game unless I..well…came.

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Men who get manicures and pedicures are metrosexual and possibly eating pillow.

The only feathers I’ve tasted are the ones on the hood chinese food spot’s fried chicken. Manicures and pedicures are a semi-regular thing for me. Sometimes clipping the nails and putting lotion on the appendages isn’t enough. I see nothing wrong with paying attention to the details. I don’t look like a model so best believe I’m going to do everything in my power to maximize my attractiveness. For me, that includes having nice hands and feet. The smallest detail could be the difference between “Yeah, I’d love to go out with you this weekend” and “I have a boyfriend.”

Men that aren’t good with tools are flimsy.

Aside from the one that I was born with, I’m not smooth with tools. I hate drilling (not the fun kind), nailing, hammering, painting, and assembling. Why would I do something that I can pay someone else to do if it’ll make my life easier? Yeah, I could change this tire on the side of the highway with oncoming traffic, but I’ma call AAA and not die. Thanks. However, if a woman asks me to come over and help her assemble her living room set from Ikea and more importantly her bed, I will do it. It’s in my best interest because men like sex. Assembling her bed may increase the likelihood of me getting into it and disassembling her bra strap.

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The Magnum makes the man.

You probably think I’m going to talk about Python Jackson. I’m not. This is actually for the idiot guys who go out and buy magnums when they’re average or need a snug fit. There are few things that are more embarrassing or costly than getting in bed with a chick and having on a baggy condom. How do I know this? It’s simple. Women will talk about bad d*cketry. It’s amazing what you learn when drinking and playing spades. So yeah, don’t be buying Magnums just to impress chicks and raise your inner-man when you know that a pencil is a lot different than a permanent marker. Nothing good will come from it. Did you see what I did there? Did you see it?

Men should only cry at funerals and when they get divorced and she takes half.

There’s a difference between being a b*tch ass negroid and having a full range of emotions. I’ve noticed that as I’ve gotten older I’ve become more sympathetic and in tune with mine and others (Yeah, I know. That’s some real Pisces ish). When I’m watching some heartwarming story or see something moving, I may get a little glassy-eyed. Sh*t, I cried when Barack won the election. It wasn’t so much that we had a black president as it was the fact that my dad, who was born in 1938 in the deep south, wasn’t alive to see it. I also think that this “men shouldn’t cry” business stunts emotional growth and the ability to communicate feelings. I know that I’ve purposely not shared things bothering me at my core simply because I knew what would come with it. I did more damage to myself than anything else. Go ahead man, cry. Just don’t be sobbing because you stubbed your toe.

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Wrap It Up

Yeah, I was thinking the same. These are just a few of the things I hear about manliness. What comes to mind for you when you think of what a man should and shouldn’t do? Do you agree or disagree with any of the above? Under what circumstances do you think it’s cool for dude to cry?

I keep telling you. Don’t call me emo,