Fluffy

I will preface this blog post by saying not every man needs to be a prize fighter, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Black Belt, steroid eating gym bro, or former SPECIAL RECON FORCE SEAL RANGER SNIPER NINJA (sorry if I left any one out) but FUUUUUUUUUCK! If you have a set of testicals swinging between your legs you ought to be able to do some pushups, see your dick, defend yourself/loved ones, and not look like a “get the crane out” morbidly obese woman. It’s not asking a whole fucking lot.
A male should look like some version of a man, without needing to squint and turn your head sideways for a ten minute visual analysis.
We can add potbellied bean poles to this as they are just as useless and will likely live longer, thus using up more resources and still contributing nothing. It’s just that “The Fluffies” were all fucking over that day and grabbed my attention.

As I walk through the airport on my way to some hippie stronghold for the weekend, I notice something. It’s like that bite sore in your mouth you can’t keep from running your tongue over, or that scab on your knee you couldn’t help but pick as a kid. I don’t want to see it, but there it is; step after step, head turn after head turn, I can’t escape it. I am surrounded by weak, doughy, fluffy, titted men. 1 out of 15 or maybe even 25 don’t look like eunuchs. Their body types may vary dramatically: apple, pear, watermelon, cornucopia; but their mannerisms... well they might have all learned them at the same college course. Shoulders slumped, eyes on the ground or their phone, paunches protruding, hips swaying, and a shambolic gait a zombie would admire. As they pass, I can’t help but wonder if the planes have enough seatbelt extenders, if Starbucks has enough pastries and Macchiatos, these are “men” in the loosest sense of the word. Scratch that. They’re not men, they’re just male. These males would be of no use in any crisis situation, nor would they be able to defend their loved ones or even themselves. They rely on others, on Alphas, to do the job of Protector and Defender because they refuse or are incapable. As a matter fact, the only crisis I see them playing any kind of positive part in would be “Remote Plane Crash”. The role: well-marbled meat for the able-bodied survivors.