And ever after, Hal Jordan's stools came out like Spirographs.
Because Sinestro is the manliest villain in the DC Universe, I thought I would walk everybody through a typical day of every man on the planet. If you're female and you ask a male in your life if the following scenario is true, don't expect him to acknowledge the facts although you might see the corner of his mouth turn up in a repressed smile of brotherly acquiescence. Don't mistake that acquiescence with agreement with you! He's just awash in the recognition of a routine he's known since puberty which he will always deny as truth in the face of a female he loves dearly, lest he lose her completely, for who can love another after looking deep into their heart and soul and seeing nothing but facile juvenility scented of fart jokes and stale semen? The mind of a man is not an easy thing to confront, and few are those that walk away with any respect left for it.
The first decision of every man's day is an important one because it sets up the tone for the rest of it: to orgasm or to walk around the entire day as a gigantic, incompetent, drooling boner? Unless you want to be mistaken for a professional sports player or a member of a college fraternity, most will choose to orgasm. The next great question is how to go about it? Masturbation is the obvious answer and, for most guys and for most of their sorry, pathetic, video game, elf role playing lives, it's the only answer. But if you have a partner, that's cool too. I suppose it's easiest if you have a male partner because I imagine you just wink at each other cartoonishly and then grab each other's dicks and begin wanking each other off. But I wouldn't know since I've never copulated with another male no matter how many eyewitnesses you can find that are willing to attest to the opposite. It just so happens that there was a guy that looked almost exactly like me during college.
If your preferred partner is female, that presents some other problems, or so I figure from watching thirty years of television sitcoms about the relationships between men and women. I believe if you want to have sex with your female partner, you poke her in the back with your erection, she slaps it away, she calls you a pig, she stomps off with her hot self that's probably two hundred pounds less than your overweight form (but still sexy in its way! Especially with the raging, throbbing sexual organ you're waving about the room), and storms off to call her friends and call you a childish man child with no sense at all. I think in the history of all television situational comedies, only two women actually enjoyed sex: Peg Bundy and, when she wasn't busy proving her superiority, Claire Huxtable.
But since I have no idea how to get a woman to sleep with me more than the first time before she's quickly disappointed with nearly the entire package, I can only rely on my television viewing experience to summarize how to achieve orgasm with a female partner in the morning. I don't even know how to get them to stay after the inadequate sex, the stifled tears, and the spontaneous three A.M. confession where I account every single fault in the relationship between me and my mother. So masturbation is probably the best bet anyway.
Occasionally I've fucked the cat but you know how hard it is to get dried semen out of cat fur? The cat just licks and licks and licks like it's never coming out. And then I always declare never again when, later, it greets me with a cute little headbump and meows in my face, expelling a nice, steamy cloud of semen scented cat breath. Ugh!
So masturbation it is! It's probably best even if you have a partner because who wants to deal with the fragile bonds of intimate contact with another human being first thing in the morning? The desperate need for acceptance. The fear of rejection. The denial that your love for the other person only exists because you couldn't live another day without knowing that somebody fake loves you just as much. It's all just too overwhelming. So, once again, you do what you've been doing since you looked down at that mysterious erection and wonder why it's suddenly doing that? And then you think, "Well, what would happen if I do
this?" And you suddenly know how you'll be spending at least a little bit of every day of the rest of your life.
Men know this. They all know that the first act of the day of every other man was probably spent masturbating and yet they all still insist on shaking each other's hands. It's disgusting!
Next on the man's list of decisions to make is where to masturbate! The shower is obviously the easiest choice but sometimes you just don't want to get out of bed! And even if you don't have a partner, one never really feels entirely comfortable just ejaculating right there onto the sheets you're going to have to sleep on again that night. And what man has ever washed a sheet in his life? So you either lie on your back and just see how high up your chest your ejaculate shoots, or you grab the crusty hand-towel you leave stuffed under the bed behind the Trivial Pursuit game that you haven't played in years, or you just yank the one sock that didn't fall off during the night from your foot and shove your penis in that. It's like a wool condom for cleanliness! And cleanliness is next to Godliness!
I just had a thought. Being that I'm an Atheist (and as all Atheist's know, there are no strictures against masturbation in
The Secret Atheist Handbook, or How To Ruin Everybody's Fantasies of Immortality), I don't struggle with the act. Like every other animal, I just do it, get it done, and allow my natural instincts to guide me through the rest of the day. But if you believe in the afterlife and spirits and ghosts of dead ancestors, how do you masturbate?! I have often heard people say things like, "Dear Grandpa Joe is always looking down on me." Gross! What kind of a sicko pervert was Grandpa Joe?! Do religious people have "masturbation shields" which spirits can't look through which they hurriedly climb into when the feeling comes over them? You know, that actually sounds exactly like something a Mormon would have. Anyway, it doesn't really matter. As a man (Atheist, Jewish, Christian, Muslim, or any of the other religions that are even less believable than the Religions of The Book), we find a way to masturbate whether it's through denial or just the pure love of the act.
If a man chooses not to orgasm in the morning, he has no more choices to make for the rest of the day. He just wanders around leering at those members of society he finds sexually attractive while he constantly readjusts the front of his jeans. This readjusting or "grabbing of one's crotch" serves two purposes. The first is to just shift the erection around so that it's most camouflaged in whatever the man is wearing. Depending on the type of pants and the curve of his manhood, he can put it up so it's stuck in his waistband or shove it down one leg of his loose slacks while walking slightly hunched over with a strange gait. The second is just the decision that he should have orgasmed earlier and now he's just going to touch himself as often as possible until he jizzes in his pants. This is why I never associate with men that touch their crotches. Take care of that before you leave the house, you filthy, crunchy-underweared monsters!
After a man has cleared his mind, he must now, if he's managed to hold onto a job being that he spends over half of his waking hours playing video games or sports and trying to copulate with partners sexually attractive to him, he must get ready for work. The most efficient men have already taken a shower. And the moster efficient men than that will also shave in the shower, being that that is the next major decision in a man's day. All men hate to shave. This is one area where the sexes can come together (which happens rarely, am I right ladies (Winky face (if only there were an easier way to show I were winking because of my sexual subtext in the preceding parenthetical reference))? Men have spent many long hours in deep philosophical thought coming up with ways to allow us not to shave. I have to admire the new generation, and particularly in the areas of the (pardon my nomenclature as I mean no judgment but one will readily identify what I mean when you read it) hipster sub-groups, for their ability to really turn not shaving into some kind of fashionable statement. I always thought "I'm just lazy" was an adequate reply to those who would wonder why I sported the beard. I never thought to pretend that I just love facial hair so much! Maybe that's because I don't. Beards are uncomfortable and annoying. But shaving is as well! The struggle between shaving off the irritating beard and being too lazy to shave is right up there with a Jedi's constant struggle between the light and the dark sides of The Force.
I could claim that the man's next big decision is what to wear but that mostly just involves sniffing the armpits of some shirts lying around and the crotches of some underpants before throwing on the least smelly outfit he can find. And then he heads out majestically into the day to pretend that he is the most confident and beautiful of all this world's creatures, not so that he can become a rich and powerful man, but because who wants to sleep with an ugly asshole full of self-loathing?
The next part of a man's day is so secret that I can't share it with anyone that identifies female. But I'd like to mention it because it's so much fun and it's so exciting and, well, it's what men talk about when we sneak off to use the restroom in groups. You might not notice since men don't sneak off to pee with other men that they're currently hanging out with. Generally if we're at dinner or some kind of function, we make eye contact with a number of men we admire by the stoutness of their masculinity and, sometimes, by the cute dimples when they smile as you casually make eye contact with them, you know, one man to another, neither one trying to prove anything with a handshake, and a little voice reminding you how carefree those college days were. We make eye contact with them and maybe nod (you've all seen this nod, I'm sure). We'll watch and eventually one male stranger will get up to piss and several others in the restaurant, no relation to each other at all, will get up and head to the bathroom together. It is then that we talk about what I'm going to write about next. So I'll need you to enter your Man Password of Approval in the box after the input screen.
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