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Men are pigs.

So it has been said innumerable times before by women who have been raped, molested, abused, sexually harassed, and, well, the list has to be longer than a mile.

To Prison Break fanatics who are reading this, you know that Gretchen, that bad ass chick with grey eyes infamous for her supposed beheading of the show’s lead female character, Dr. Sara Tancredi, also said these words on the show.

Personally, as a representative member of the male sex, I would have to agree to a certain degree. I can agree because I know how men think, being a man myself. Although I think there’s a better, less insulting way of putting it:

Every man has a pig inside him.

After you’ve read the write-up I’ve made about this blog and my first blog entry which explained why I decided to start my own blog, you’re probably thinking:

Sure, you’re brave enough to try and be the beacon of light that will guide us to enlightenment and greater understanding of the world by proclaiming the unaltered truth loud and proud. But of course you can’t possibly be able to tell the truth all the time, right?

Well, this is how I prove to you that I can.

Before I begin to declare the truths I know about other, more interesting topics such as the upcoming elections, the price of gas, the hottest dudes and dudettes in the entertainment industry, and—of course—world peace, I would have to declare truths about myself. I have to come clean before I begin to bury you knee deep in my musings and rants—head first. And this is how I come clean: by being up front with you about the pig inside me.

I admit that I have a pig inside me, very much alive, always squirming, especially if a stunningly gorgeous woman comes into perfect view. Of course this pig is not the master of me. Oh no. Not while I have an ounce of sanity in me. But the pig is there, somewhere deep in a corner of my brain, patiently waiting for the opportune moment to sally forth.

To further illustrate the modus operandi of the “inner pig”, let me tell you about my most recent road trip to Los Baños.

Early in the morning of Thursday last week I went to the HM Liner station in Cubao and boarded a bus bound for Santa Cruz, Laguna. My stop would be Los Baños, which is about 2 ½ hours from the station. While the bus was still in the station, an attractive young woman (my best guess is that she’s younger than I am) got in, along with a guy who I think is her boyfriend, or at least someone equivalent to that. How could I tell? Well, because I felt the sexual tension between them even though I was two or three seats away from where they sat, and also because as the bus was leaving the station, the guy leaned towards the girl, planted a solid kiss on her lips, and then he was out of the bus before it got out of the station.

Anyway, only a few people got on the bus between Cubao station and South Luzon Expressway. And when we got to Calamba, Laguna, there was this group of 40ish men who boarded. There were a lot of vacant seats on the bus, but one of the men, in all his manly pride, decided to sit down beside the attractive young woman (let’s call her AYW from now on). As usual, I took note of this fact and proceeded to silently observe.

The AYW sat beside the window while the old guy (that’s right, I called the 40ish guy old) sat right by the aisle, and that meant there was at least a single seat space between them. Sure as I was that he would, the man spread his legs real wide as he sat, making sure to occupy two seats instead of one, and also making physical contact with the AYW—who was sitting there trapped.

At first the AYW didn’t complain. The tough girl steeled herself for as long as she could in order to give the man the benefit of the doubt. But as the physical contact went on for too long, she inevitably reached her limit. And with no sign that the man would move his leg away from hers, she hit the old guy on the arm, cursed him (loud enough for everyone on the bus to look towards their direction), and told him how much of a pervert he is. She wasn’t very polite to the “poor” old guy, and I really can’t blame her.

Needless to say, the old guy—after being publicly humiliated for letting the pig inside him take full reign over himself—stood up, went to the back of the bus, sat there, away from all of the other passengers, and wallowed in the shame he brought upon himself.

The story above is just one instance of the pig taking over and making an ass out of a man.

And after being witness to such a spectacle, I am writing now to help make sense of the pig inside every man.

Men go absolutely bonkers over women’s breasts, butts, and those seemingly never-ending, luscious legs. Women, you have probably noticed this long ago, no surprise there. Men, you know exactly where I’m going. We men can’t really explain the origin of this attraction ourselves, except that we’re pretty sure that it has to be encoded in our DNA—which would explain why every one of us suffer from exactly the same symptoms: the ogling, leering, and staring at those wonderful parts of the female anatomy. Oh right, I almost forgot to include drooling.

As far as my understanding can reach, without this attraction, the human race would have died out eons ago. But come on, men, it’s about time we faced the truth.

The truth is: we really don’t care how a girl is attractive­—could be she’s quite well-endowed, maybe she’s wearing something really seductive, or there’s just something about the way she moves. The whole point of the matter is: we always find ourselves distracted from whatever it is we’re supposed to be doing—say, looking at the road when we’re driving, or listening to our significant other while she’s talking. And—I’m sure I’m not the first to admit this—the fact is, what we are doing is extremely rude and potentially life-threatening.

As men, we should be more responsible.

As men, we are faced with a daunting number of women all around us, and so, we have a choice to make: fight the pig—by trying our hardest not to stare, ogle, and drool. Or listen to the loud snorting “Hey, check the boobsters on her!”

As men, we’re free to choose. But until we can train ourselves to consciously ignore or at least be neutral when we come face to face with women’s “hot spots”, we’ll most likely continue to make total asses out of ourselves and worse, we’ll continue to be insensitive to the women we adore.

There is no doubt in my mind that every man out there completely understands how utterly distasteful, sexist, and swinish we make ourselves look when we fall victim to the pig.

So, in behalf of all men who have fallen/continue to fall victim to their inner pigs, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies to any and all women who have been/continue to be offended.

* * * * * * * * *

Random Thought

—I loved the pace of the latest episode of NCIS (entitled Endgame)! Once again, a ton of fun moments to remember and watch a thousand more times—Gibbs being prepared with a decaf Caf-Pow for Abby, the new Mc-nicknames Tony came up with this time, Ziva smiling a lot than usual. Wow. And it’s also fun seeing the changes that some characters are undergoing: McGee in his romantic mood from the coffee shop, how Abby reacted to McGee’s romantic escapade, and there’s something about Tony’s looks at Ziva. Do you feel that the sexual tension between Tiva is finally going somewhere this time? Me thinks and hopes so. Tony even busted in the women’s bathroom to talk to her! I can’t wait to see next week’s episode.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. 12.November.2009 8:12 am

    i soooo love this entry of yours, lolo.. tsk.. how i wish “he” could read this.. hahaha!

  2. 12.November.2009 11:19 am

    A BIG idea is stirring in my mind…. I might end up acting on it… In a few seconds. Haha. 🙂

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