The Objectification of Men (Finally!)

Hello world!

So I had a religious experience this weekend. It was full of wisdom, deep insight, and I left feeling completed, sated, and spiritually blessed.

I had my revival service at the Magic Mike XXL premier this weekend.

As I was sitting in the theaters, watching the many previews, and waiting with bated breath for my favorite boys to light up the silver screen, I was thinking about the objectification of women.

In society, especially in the good ole’ U.S. Of A. women are judged constantly by what we wear, how we act, and what we should want versus what we actually want. (Good old fashioned, toe-curling, coma inducing, hair pulling orgasms, [yes plural] followed by good food, conversation, and possibly a relationship) However, if a naked woman comes on during a commercial break, and says anything remotely sexual, or holding anything representing a phallic shape, best believe the National Organization for Women will be on that commercial like white on rice.

Don’t get me wrong; I agree with all the women’s organizations, and such. No woman should be objectified, criticized, or demeaned just because of what is on her chests, and between her legs. But say we took a different approach; What if some women (Not all, of course) basked in the objectification? Men do it sometimes, (As seen throughout the film) and seem to flourish under all the attention. Are we being too sensitive?

Again, just an observation, nothing else.

I’m not calling Magic Mike XXL a stimulating, intellectual, IFC film; What you see is what you get, and the title says it all. But what if we took the same approach as the magnificent strippers and just not give a fuck?

Now wait! I’m not going to sit here and waste over 1,000 words boring you about all the gorgeous men and their abs, the dancing, sex, lots of ass, Twitch, abs, roll on the floor laughter moments, Tarzan, Matt Bomer, abs, long *ahem* manhood troubles, (did I mention abs?) and such. I’m not even going to tell you about Mike’s past life, and his alter ego, (A.K.A. white chocolate) or the amount of feels you’ll get listening to some 90’s, and early 2000’s throwback music.

No, I’m not going to say go see it at all.




Because All Of Those Girls Are Practice………


That’s what I feel,
When I see YOU.
This ill-conceived notion that,
I NEED a man,
I NEED leadership,
I NEED direction,
Is complete bull.
Help ME understand.
Help ME see.
Maybe I’m blind, and can’t understand the need.
I HEAR women changing their ways for men.
My EYES see a woman who gives up her morale for a man.
My BODY shakes with rage at what we WOMEN allow.
I never said I didn’t want a man.
Oh, girls,
I want one.
I’m like the rest of the female population who wants someone to hold me a night,
I’m with the rest of you who wants to feel incredible both inside and out.
I want someone to tell me it’s going to be all right and actually MEAN IT.
“So,” answers Nikki, “What’s the cost cross road demon?”
Laughing menacingly he answers, “Oh,let me enlighten you Nikki.
Loss of individual thoughts,
Loss of the correct speech,
Loss of common sense,
Loss of intelligence,
Then you can keep him!
Sound good?”
“Uh,” replies Nikki, “Can I think on it?”
YOU HAVE NOTHING to offer me.
Because if you look here you see a woman.
But not just any woman,
A woman with a brain,
A woman who doesn’t think the same,
A woman completely unhinged,and untamed.
Where did we go?
How did we get lost?
Can we come back?