Rob Azevedo offers a poetic view on statistics and tendencies that don’t define him as a man.
What doesn’t define me as a man?
The number of wrinkles on my face.
The color of my teeth.
The size of my ass.
The car I drive.
The number of friends I have.
The college I went too.
The city I was born in.
The girth of my gut.
The length of my cock.
The square footage of my home.
Whether I served in the armed forces, or not.
My SAT scores (660–combined!).
The books I’ve read.
The movies I’ve seen.
The beer I drink (High Life).
The type of porno I watch (I’m all over the place).
Leading to the number of times I masturbate each week (varies from hour to hour).
Who I voted for.
Whether I can dunk a basketball or not.
The number of homeruns I have hit in my life (one).
The size of my feet.
The places I have traveled.
How many times I’ve been in love (twice).
The size of my tax return.
Who I work for.
The coast I live on.
How many women I’ve had sex with.
How many fistfights I have won…and lost.
Whether I shave my balls or grow it out like a wilder beast.
How many times I have cheated, stolen and lied.
How many bowel movements I have each day.
The number of times I’ve been arrested.
My favorite baseball team (Red Sox).
The dope I smoke.
How many times I’ve been tossed out of a bar.
Whether I pray—or not.
Whether I work out—or not.
Whether I’d rather watch Brickleberry or Nightline.
The last time I went to confession.
The God I honor.
The country I live in.
How I like to kiss (lots of tongue).
Whether I like to perform cunnilingus (Hell Yeah!)
The number of times I have been a best man (8).
The number of grooms I still keep in contact with (two, maybe three).
The cut of my lawn.
Whether I’m a Democrat or Republican (I’m a Patriot).
The number of jobs I have held (between 40-50).
The number of times I have blacked out.
Or the food I eat.
So, what DOES define me as a man?
Simple: Whether my kids are rank, disrespectful, unappreciative assholes… or not.
That, I believe, defines me as a man.
Photo Credit: Τchasty/Flickr