So, what does it mean to be a man? The question really has come up a lot in my head since I turned thirty. Whether it just be the natural course of a mind at this age or the societal expectations around me, I cannot help but keep falling back to the matter and wondering if I measure up to the ideal in any form. Thoughts on the subject were only
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...unless you're a squirrel, as they're the gayest rats on the planet.
The male of species do have biological clocks of sorts. However, it's wound up so tight that they cannot tell left or right.
If you have to define yourself by using others as a barometer, you and everybody else is going to fail.
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And don't diss the squirrels. Wait... can real men love squirrels?? I've failed again!
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