Though “men,” for the most part, do all they can to shy away from the paternal (always demanding a DNA test on former trash TV staples like Maury and Jerry Springer), there is something biological that occasionally possesses them to, for no apparent reason, clutch to a woman’s stomach. It can be someone they know intimately or merely an acquaintance in passing. There is no rule for degrees of familiarity that will prevent a “man” from the impromptu stomach clutch.
Whether this is due to a woman’s so-called “ripeness” for pregnancy or because the “man” in question sees something in her that makes him want to father her child is indiscernible. All that’s known for certain is that any sensible woman would do well to keep her midriff area angled strategically from any and all “men” approaching, lest it be grabbed at random and for an indeterminate amount of time. I mean, what if she really was pregnant or something and didn’t want to call attention to it? It’s really enough to make a girl feel absolutely rotund from having to suck it in out of nervousness. Jesus, it used to be all you had to worry about was an ass or tit grab, but now we have to add the paunch to the mix, too? Oh, yeah, and apparently pussy thanks to Trump. Is no body part on the female sacred? Well, the answer to that was already made clear when God or whoever told us all that Eve was crafted from Adam’s rib. If she’s an extension of his body, then why shouldn’t he be able to paw at her as he pleases?
When you’re living in your condo, using a waffle iron to make waffles and wooing post-one night stands the morning after, it’s probably very likely that you’re the type of “man” who owns a bathrobe. Whether it is crafted from terrycloth or silk is of no consequence, a bathrobe on a “man” is always both frivolous and ridiculous.
“Men” who can barely function wear bathrobes
The one so-called acceptable “man” who has ever made a bathrobe work for himself is Hugh Hefner. And no one takes him seriously. To wear a bathrobe as a “man” screams either 1) you’re extremely depressed or 2) you’re trying too hard to “live the lifestyle.” Bottom line: the only thing a “man” should be wearing around the house is his underwear. Otherwise, he can dress his ass for company, not don a bathrobe.
I suppose there’s nothing wrong with carefully sowing your wild oats before deciding to relegate yourself to one woman. But there’s a difference between youthful folly and an utter lack of expressing interest in anyone or anything other than your own visual pleasure. Being into and aroused by every woman you encounter is not only exhausting for all involved, but it also infers you’re probably riddled with all manner of sexually and socially transmitted diseases. So if you find your eyes bulging out at every pair of tits you see walk past you from Driggs to Kent, try to remember to have some motherfucking discernment.