So tell me — what are those girls underpants parties all about? I never have understood that. Guys don’t do those. Guys don’t say things like, “Say, Bubba’s getting married — let’s buy him some new Fruit of the Looms and jock straps and sit around swilling a few brewskis and giggling while he opens the packages.”
Women think that when men are apart from them they talk about sports and beer and make ugly noises out of bodily orifices. The truth is, we engage in heated debates about particle physics, flower arranging, the madrigals of Don Carlo Gesulado, and the poetry of Wallace Stevens, but don’t want women to know it.
Sometimes we also tell cute kitten jokes.
That’s it. Now the secret is out. It had to happen eventually.