Dudesville

I raided a roadside sale to furnish my first apartment.

For a couch, I purchased a bench seat from a Ford F-150.  For lamp tables, the choice was milk crates.

Had I not wed two years later, my living room might still look the same.

Real men keep it simple.

Give us a cold beer, a game on the tube and some occasional — scratch that, regular — female companionship, and we can survive nuclear winter.

Dudes pee outdoors, wash unsorted clothes and worship their Weber grill. We like to be told where to go — unless it’s hell  — instead of being given options.

Want drama? You won’t find it in the testosterone zone.

Make no mistake. Guys like to mix it up, particularly on a court or field. Jaws flap and dukes come out, sometimes landing. But the minute the competition ends, so does the emotion.

This is no indictment of the opposite sex.

A man without a good woman is potential wasted.

She overlooks our flaws, accentuates our strengths and spares us embarrassment.

We are better men for it.

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