Still A Guy

In recent reflection of not only the pussification of America but the world as well, I happened recently to chance upon a country music station broadcasting out of Sacramento. I heard a song by Brad Paisley entitled "I'm Still A Guy" and, I must admit, in consideration of the state of this nation, I thought the lyrics were appropriate for reproduction here:

"I'm Still A Guy"

When you see a deer you see Bambi

And I see antlers up on the wall

When you see a lake you think picnic

And I see a large mouth up under that log

You're probably thinking that you're going to change me

In some ways well maybe you might

Scrub me down, dress me up but no matter what

I'm still a guy

When you see a priceless French painting

I see a drunk, naked girl

You think that riding a wild bull sounds crazy

And I'd like to give it a whirl

Well love makes a man do some things he ain't proud of

And in a weak moment I might walk your sissy dog, hold your purse at the mall

But remember, I'm still a guy

I'll pour out my heart

Hold your hand in the car

Write a love song that makes you cry

Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground

'Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

I can hear you now talking to your friends

Saying, "Yeah girls he's come a long way"

From dragging his knuckles and carrying a club

And building a fire in a cave

But when you say a backrub means only a backrub

Then you swat my hand when I try

Well, what can I say at the end of the day

Honey, I'm still a guy

I'll pour out my heart

Hold your hand in the car

Write a love song that makes you cry

Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground

'Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

These days there's dudes getting facials

Manicured, waxed and botoxed

With deep spray-on tans and creamy lotiony hands

You can't grip a tacklebox

With all of these men lining up to get neutered

It's hip now to be feminized

I don't highlight my hair

I've still got a pair

Yeah honey, I'm still a guy

Oh my eyebrows ain't plucked

There's a gun in my truck

Oh thank God, I'm still a guy

Thank God I'm still "kickin' it Old School." I don't always agree with my woman. I'm not a carpet. Too much detail drives me crazy. I like action movies. Football season arrives for a reason. I like beer; life is too short for cheap beer. I open the door for my wife. I kiss her and I hold her hand in public because I'm proud she's with me. I know how to cook, how to vacuum, how to do wash, I'm independent. I decorated my own house and I'm clean. Matter of fact I'm infinitely cleaner than my first wife and my last girlfriend. I don't read female authors because they don't write for me. I like guns because they're fun and they make people uncomfortable and because I believe in the Second Amendment. I didn't make my fiance my wife because I had to; I made her my wife because I chose to. I don't like parties. I don't dance. I couldn't much care less about socializing just to socialize. I don't speak much unless it's required. People who talk on and on are stupid and insecure.

And those are just a few reasons I'm glad to be a Guy.

BZ

P.S.

Hmm. Maybe I should listen to more country music.