Posted on 09/16/2006 10:16:58 AM PDT by mcg2000
After making a great play in his team's last game, Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker Joey Porter came to the sidelines and kissed his coach, Bill Cowher, on the neck. Not to be outdone, after catching a pass in his team's last game, Dallas Cowboys wide receiver Terrell Owens came to the sidelines and gently cupped one of coach Bill Parcell's sagging manboobs.
It's not coach Parcell's fault.
He didn't ask for manboobs.
Manboobs happen.
Sure, it's a great marketing slogan, but good luck getting grandpa to wear the t-shirt. There are few who are proud enough of their sagging manboobs to brag about such a feature with a shirt-sized billboard. That doesn't matter, of course, because the manboobs themselves serve as beacons of their own existence. It's impossible to hide manboobs. Although the cast of Seinfeld made great sport of the possibilities of such clothing items as the “Bro” or the “Mansiere”, the fact is that if elastic support for manboobs does exist, it has yet to make inroads to society at large.
They're hanging right in there.
We're still seeing them every day.
Quite a bit of that, I suppose, is the fact that manboobs are prevalent hanging from the chests of the older generation. Many who walk around in NFL-style sport shirts, as coach Parcells, accidentally accentuate the fact that they're now double hung like a set of windows. Perhaps it isn't an accident after all. Most older guys I have known lost any interest in fashion long before they reached the golden years. Surviving was enough. What to wear and how it looked moved much farther down the agenda with the added years. Do we really expect men who wear black socks and sandals on their shorts-clad chicken legs to show concern about the two nipple-studded sacks of fat napping where their chests used to be?
Looks don't count for much, say the manboob men.
That leaves it to the rest of us to be shocked and dismayed by Uncle Vernon's proudly displayed swinging udders. We know there's not much you can do, Vern, but, geez… do you have to take ‘em out at the family picnic? Right in front of kids? I'll be paying for little Timmy's therapy until I'm old enough to have some manboobs of my own.
Speaking of which…
There are a few annoying situations that have begun to show their ugly attitudes as I stumble through my forties. My eyesight is decreasing and my need for sleep multiplies. Hangovers are lasting much longer. Hairs are fleeing my head in gangs. None of that bothers me to the point of having a surgical mall doctor laser eye procedure or signing up to be the next lucky man to have colored fishing line sewn into my scalp.
But, frankly, the thought of manboobs is frightening.
As I mentioned, there's nothing you can do about manboobs. It's not your fault. It would be easy to say, “Well, that guy is fat. I'm not fat. I don't have to worry about manboobs.” Unfortunately, I have found through vast minutes of internet research (which, incidentally, has replaced actually going to a doctor for any ailment) that growing a set of milk-dry man breasts has no connection whatsoever to fitness.
Or al-Qeada, as proven in the Senate subcommittee's findings.
Similar to in-laws, manboobs could arrive at any moment without notice and stay for the rest of your life. At first, it may seem as though they're just a temporary condition. You haven't been working out as much as you'd like or you've been eating the wrong sorts of foods. So, off to the gym you go. Say goodbye to Oreos after midnight. A year later, you notice that you're lean and mean and in possession of a pair of C-cups.
What sort of cruel joke is this?
Don't laugh, my friend. It's coming for many of us. The only thing we can do is be prepared. No, that plastic sheeting and duct tape Tom Ridge recommended a few years back will not help, unless you wrap yourself in the sheeting, hoping to lose weight while your manboobs are held in place with the tape. Real preparation involves doing some leg work.
If I may suggest – get on the phone today, right now, and ask your medical insurance company if they will cover non-work related breast-reduction surgery for men. If they give you a hassle about it, do what the rest of America does: lie. Tell the insurance company that your manboobs have grown so large you caught one of them in the machinery at the factory. Chances are they'll opt for shelling out a couple of grand to have those puppies axed from your life.
In the least the insurance company will have to foot the bill for an elastic shirt.
Now, there's a future to look forward to, huh? Walking down the beach with black socks and sandals, searching for loose change with your metal detector while wearing an elastic support shirt for your manboobs. Lucky for all of us that the baby boomers, the biggest lump of population in our country, will be reaching manboob age together.
So many guys will have manboobs that it will become not only fashionable, but accepted.
Perhaps even, dare I say it, sexy?
And who knows? After manboobs hit the cover of GQ in 2015, who's to say what could be the next big trend?
Look at that guy with the hot combover.
Do you think those manboobs are real?
They look fake to me.
But he has added a nice piercing on that left nip.
IBTZ
Not news. Chat. Didn't you have anything better to do today?
Blech. Even Parcells deserves to be left weth some dignity. The author of this piece is a cad.
Gay?
aside from the conversation of a grown man preferring to call themselves a child-like name ... I don't know ... such as "Johnny"? The post was written by a syndicated AM morning-show writer ... take for what it's worth.
People who are insecure and/or question their own sexuality by leftfield comments are a riot! lol
Gynecomastia bump!
You speak like a feminist.
Ted qualifies in two categories: manboob and boobman.
This is hysterical!! But sadly true. You should see what I have to look at some days where I work. I send 'em back out to their cars to get a shirt!
Those are his personal floatation devices! They come in very handy in certain circumstances.
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