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Dear American Males (and Females who come into contact with said males),

WTH?  I’ll say it whether anybody else has the guts to, or not!  It’s time to man up, America!  Where have all the beer-drinking, old college t-shirted, Levi’s wearing, sports-talking, regular guys gone?  Did Y2K get all of you while everyone was focused on their computers possibly crashing?  Okay, there’s still a few around, but they should not be the minority!

Why is no one discussing the epidemic we have on our hands?  A crisis has been brewing over the last couple of years and there appears to be no immediate cure.  People, men are wearing scarves!  And I’m not talking 45-degree-below-zero fleece or wool scarves. I mean dainty, girly, tie-in-a-side-knot, fringe-hanging, fem fatale scarves!  An ascot by any other name is still a scarf!  Horror of horrors!

The sad reality is that it doesn’t stop at scarves!  If you see a scarf, you don’t have to look too far down to find skinny jeans and breakdancing loafers ala 1985.   First off, no man should have ankles the size of a Smucker’s lid. Secondly, they’re like human versions of poodles with fluff at their neck and weakling little legs that could snap like a guitar string.  Bolton log rule #324:  No boy calves should be smaller than his girl’s calves.  Third, when the line-up includes Prince and Michael Jackson and they don’t stand out in the group as fem, Houston, we have a problem!  Finally, if it were just skinny jeans and scarves it would be one thing, but it’s actually more atrocious than that!

With summer approaching, we are entering the depths of man capris, or as my husband would refer to them:  non-kahona coolots.  That ain’t right, people!  Nor are the tube socks they wear pulled up to their thighs like Vivian Ward hooker boots.  I worry it won’t be long till we’re back to ancient time knickers, and I cannot fathom white tights and wigs on a man I’m kissing much less standing behind in line at Starbucks.  I guarantee you I’m taking a pic on my cell phone and texting you a note asking if you’d like me to hook you up with George Washington!

And don’t even get me started on the primping!  There are teenage boys with more product than my sum total after 38 years of life!  They’ve had more highlights by age 18 than the reels at ESPN.  To be honest, I’m half scared ESPN will go the way of Cop Rock if this trend keeps up.  There’s hair product.  There’s spray tans and moisturizers.  There’s eyeliner.  No lie… There’s more black paint on some twenty-something guys than on a graffiti bridge in Latin King territory.  Oh, and don’t forget the damn nail polish that matches the make-up.  Seriously?

I am just completely baffled.

Red Green used to always say if the women don’t find you handsome, they should at least find you handy.  Ain’t no chance of that now!  They might break a freaking nail!  Plus, we couldn’t possibly find them handsome.  We’re more likely to find them “pretty!”  Perhaps I am one of the few, but I would much rather have ruggedly stocky builds than Bieber-fied chicken legs.  Quite frankly, it just creeps me out.  I look around and there’s piercings as far as the eye can see.  When a guy’s sporting more bling than the QVC channel, I have to wonder what he’s hiding.  Of course, his package-hugging pants leave nothing to my imagination so I can deduce he’s not muling any socks, but still…

At the end of the day, I am all for wearing pink and supporting a cause.  Metrosexual is completely welcome.  I even get a little touch-up when you’re a soap star on camera, but if Ellen looks butch alongside the guy next to you, then I beg of you to step up and help me save mankind.

Crank up the stereo.  Belch the alphabet and say it with me, “Man up, America!”

I don’t know about you, but I want manly men back.  I want guys that open doors for women, eat beef jerky after they just pissed on the side of the road, and own their token pair of tennis shoes that they wear to every event except weddings and funerals.  I want a man that would rather goose you than sip Grey Goose from a martini glass.   I want a man who checks the oil in his car more often than his appearance in the rearview mirror.  Forget manscaping.  It’s time to go back to landscaping.  I’m looking for more John Waynes and less Spencer Pratts!

Are you tired of wussies, pansies, and girly boys?  Then leave the thin manskin pants on the racks!  Hang the Hermes silk back on the divas, not the drama dawgs!  Pull up those man panties!  Help make manly men prosper again!

This is a full-scale SOS.  Reach out to others.  Spread the word!  I call on you to take our country back to the days of men being men and shaking off sprained ankles and awkwardly hugging their mothers.  Man up, America!

P.S. – I’m doing this writing platform challenge where I am supposed to call you into action and ask you to share my cause.  If you feel so inclined to hit the share button on my blog, I would feel so inclined to love you even more.  Thanks!

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