Boy, oh boy

Now I don't know too much about this thing here called life, but it dawned on me not too long ago that a lot of it has to do with boys. Go figure. Let me explain. It seems, when you think about it, that everyone is after boys. Read the missed connections in the personals section on Craigslist. Maybe 75% of the posts are people trying to track down boys.

Sound odd? Think about it. First, there are the girls who like boys. They make up the vast majority of boy chasers. Then, there is a growing group of potential boy suitors. That group being boys. Yes, boys who like boys. Not all that much of an abstract idea, is it? Okay, then we have the girls who like girls who look like boys. A niche group, yes, but not exactly a big aberration. Of course you also have the clergy members who take a peculiar liking to boys. I group them with the folks over at NAMBLA. And lastly, the group that scares me the most, are the boys who like girls who look like boys. Now, I'm a man who certainly goes for a nice young chick with a crop cut and some flats, but I stop long before tattoos, muscles, and fitted caps. The rest of us go for girls! Just plain, cute to sexy women folk.

So, what is it? What's the lure of boys? I used to be one. They tend to grow into men. Hair grows in places we find unpleasant, and it stops growing in places we feel it should continue. We wear scowls and curse like drunken sailors. And we fancy libations. Very few people take a fancying to men. Though it's true, we do age like fine wine. I tend to think of myself as a cheap Malbec. But still, wine is fine just so long as it gets you to wobble after enough of it. Right?

So folks across the world, lay off the boys. You fucking pervs and pedophiles.

Today I'm feeling:

Like the kettle who got called black by the pot.

And I'm proud, I quickly replied!

Sorry I made no mention of Mother's Day yesterday. It appears that Mother's Day isn't one of the holidays we celebrate with beer, wine, vodka, rum, whiskey, or champagne. So I found it to not be worthy of mention. Plus, mothers rarely take "walks" to the store for a pack of cigarettes. There's no lore to the mother. A good blog post does not a fine mother make.