I love men. I really, really do.
Check these photos out:
Although I admit that I love their collective hotness, ignore that for a minute. The toned torsos and cut arms are just a bonus.
Focus on the enthusiasm. It’s absolutely raw.
For each photo, the caption could be changed from “Man wins medal” to “Man finds nachos,” “Man receives morning BJ,” or “Man sees boobs,” and the expressions would be just as excited.
Men are simple. For the most part, they’re happy with what they get. Toss the occasional proverbial bone, and you’re met with this sort of enthusiasm each and every time. I absolutely adore it.
There’s no wondering what he’s thinking. There’s no pondering your future. You don’t have to talk about feelings. Either he’s excited when you come home, or he’s not. The end.
When I hear women talking about changing their boyfriends, I want to shake them. What in these photos would you ever want to change?
So he leaves him socks on the floor, toothpaste in the sink, and forgets to pick up milk. Big friggin’ deal. Do a quick sweep of the floor if it bothers you that much, brush after he does to rinse everything down, and remember there’s a 7-11 across the street.
I haven’t had a boyfriend in a long damn time. Four years ago I celebrated a boyfriend’s 31st birthday by having a box of meat delivered from a ranch in Texas. You would have thought I got him free unicorn rides for the rest of his life. I haven’t had many moments since then when a man has that gold-medal enthusiasm, but I really look forward to it.
Keep it up, guys. You’ve got a fan in me.