Here's to you, my alcoholic caveman.
Also so many cards about farting. Are men really so proud of their flatulence that it has become their celebrated, defining characteristic? Maybe. I admit my dad does play golf, does like to park it on the couch, does enjoy a frosty brew. Am I just fighting the true nature of men?
Here's the thing: As a female (writer), I am insulted by chick-lit. Fuck "Shopaholic does the mall." I like shoes but no more than muscle cars. I am a woman who objects to my stereotype. So, when I see so many men embrace this "King of Queens" character as their hero, and when I read that boys performance in school is on a steep decline, I get upset. Sure it takes some energy to resist the category, but effing do it. Or are you just too lazy?
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