Another male breed, noted.
I'm one of those gals who has lots of guy mates, and that's a situation I'm totally cool with. However, after living with 5 of them for a year there were some things I started to notice as we grew more and more comfortable with each other. Specifically speaking, the moment that they all decided that it was totally acceptable to play with their balls in front of me. All the time. Fair enough, every now and then things need adjusting - I wear a bra. I understand. The thing is, it's become one of those things that has made me more aware of other guys fidgeting with themselves. Guys I don't even know. I'm starting to really wish it was just another one of those facts of life that I was ignorant of. Now, it's like when a friend gets a new car and it's yellow, so everywhere you look people are driving yellow cars. Only more disturbing.
Ever since my enlightenment, I've come to notice that it's not ALL guys, just a certain strain. The Gotta-Scratch-My-Balls-Man.
(Gotta-Scratch-My-Balls-Man (GSMBM)(n): A man who freely places his hand inside of his trousers (sometimes even his pants), in order to cup his scrotal area into a more comfortable location. Mostly spotted next to you in cinemas, on couches at house-parties or standing up on the tube. Often said action is committed during conversation. From the same school as Gotta-Pick-My-Nose Man, he believes that something so natural for him is one of those things that is invisible to the naked eye.
"Screw you, World" screeches GSMBM, "I've just copped a feel of my whole scrotum AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE!!!! Maybe I could use my powers for other things, like stealing Werthers Originals from Grandads, or curing cancer or something...")
No, GSMBM. It's not that the world can't see you, it's just that they wish they didn't have to. By conforming to this type of reckless activity, you've become one of those things society turns a blind eye to, like beggars, chewing gum under tables, or snot on someone else's face. Basically, either wait til noone's looking, or just stop doing it while I'm talking to you. It's thoroughly distracting. GOSH.
Ever since my enlightenment, I've come to notice that it's not ALL guys, just a certain strain. The Gotta-Scratch-My-Balls-Man.
(Gotta-Scratch-My-Balls-Man (GSMBM)(n): A man who freely places his hand inside of his trousers (sometimes even his pants), in order to cup his scrotal area into a more comfortable location. Mostly spotted next to you in cinemas, on couches at house-parties or standing up on the tube. Often said action is committed during conversation. From the same school as Gotta-Pick-My-Nose Man, he believes that something so natural for him is one of those things that is invisible to the naked eye.
"Screw you, World" screeches GSMBM, "I've just copped a feel of my whole scrotum AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE!!!! Maybe I could use my powers for other things, like stealing Werthers Originals from Grandads, or curing cancer or something...")
No, GSMBM. It's not that the world can't see you, it's just that they wish they didn't have to. By conforming to this type of reckless activity, you've become one of those things society turns a blind eye to, like beggars, chewing gum under tables, or snot on someone else's face. Basically, either wait til noone's looking, or just stop doing it while I'm talking to you. It's thoroughly distracting. GOSH.
posted by KJT at 12:05 am
1 Comments:
I'd like to add a comment in defense of men. No doubt the act in question may be an act that causes unrest amongst many people, especially women. I don't wish to state that one should condone their actions, neither do I wish to offer an excuse or an apology for their actions. What I'd like to mention is that some actions are not under the voluntary control of oneself and it may be the case that the scratching of one's private area falls into this category. Like a twitch occurring in one of your limbs or the blinking of your eyes, neither of these bodily performances are acts that in a certain sense oneself performs. In other words there is no conscious act; consciousness is inessential for the bodily act to take place; the thought corresponding to the act does not occur. It appears that the scratching in question can be classified into this category of actions too. My point is that the acts in question where not performed by the people you speak of, they were merely happenings like the blinking of ones eyes. As a male I do, on occasions, feel the need to perform the act in question. When I'm on my own there is no moral dilemma. I just perform the act WITHOUT 'thinking'; but when I'm in social situations their appears to be a moral norm that I have to adhere too - that being having a duty to operate such actions in a discrete manner. Sometimes this is unbearable. To make my point clear I will present you with an example of something that happened to me recently. I was standing on a crowded bus when I noticed the feeling of unrest in the area that is the topic of this comment. Becoming aware of the unrest only made the twitch ‘grow’ more apparent in my mind and become a lot more intense. I looked around to see if anyone was looking but this act of looking around, which I presume I did very inconspicuously, just made people take notice of me more and with this happening the unrest grew even larger. I started to go bright red which drew even more attention too myself. I couldn’t bear the nuisance anymore and thought about getting off the bus. Unfortunately the bus was stuck in traffic and there was no timeline present as to when the bus would be stopping next. I started to rub my legs together discretely to try and ease the agony but this only produced two unconstructive effects. The first was that it increased the intensity of the hindrance which was magnified by my ever growing red face. The second was that a young woman, who was sat on the seat near to where I was stood, had spotted my act and had looked ‘down her nose’ at me. She then turned away in disgust and started referring the incident to her friend who laughed. My embarrassment combined with the now, severely, awkward itch led to sweat dripping from my brow. Something had to be done. I had my rucksack with me and removed it from my shoulder. This had to be performed tactfully; The bus was still jam packed and I didn’t want to knock anyone with it; I didn’t want to bring any more attention to myself. I slowly removed the bag and started to move it south towards the problem at hand. One quick swift and I thought the problem would be over. It wasn’t. I tried a slower approach hoping to dislodge the problem, moving my hips around and over the bag for a good angle. I turned around to notice a group of people staring at me. For how long I do not know but they were clearly enjoying my actions (of ‘secrecy’) which must have looked as if I was attempting to hump the bag. The bus stopped and I rushed off bombarding past several passengers who looked at me with angry eyes. I ran as fast as I could to a back alley where the turmoil was finally put to bed. The relief was awesome but not one that I would like to have to go through again. If only this act was morally exceptable.
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