My day’s off to another nauseating start
This morning, a coworker sent me an e-mail chock full of pictures of greased-down buff “cowboys”. You know the ones. This e-mail (with a subject line of “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”) was intended to brighten my day and, I don’t know, get my juices flowing. It did not.
Is there something wrong with me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure if ever I came across a sexy real-life hoss who was all sweaty from a hard day’s work wranglin’ doggies (or whatever), I could get pretty hot & bothered, as long as he kept his mouth shut. But to me, there is something so unappealing about a shiny male model with perfectly sculpted muscles bigger than his head (and no doubt his brain) playing dress-up and posing for the camera. These are not “real men”.
What does THIS do for you?
Is there something wrong with me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure if ever I came across a sexy real-life hoss who was all sweaty from a hard day’s work wranglin’ doggies (or whatever), I could get pretty hot & bothered, as long as he kept his mouth shut. But to me, there is something so unappealing about a shiny male model with perfectly sculpted muscles bigger than his head (and no doubt his brain) playing dress-up and posing for the camera. These are not “real men”.
What does THIS do for you?
