Baby Dad and I watched "Shooter" last night. It has Mark Wahlberg in it who plays a sniper and the movie is well-rounded dopeness. Well, afterwards I knew predictably that Baby Dad was gonna have to get on Call of Duty 4 and pretend like he's shanking and sniping dudes.
Now, this reminds me of when I was a kid and my brother and I would watch 80's Jean-Claude Van Damme and right as the credits would begin to roll I would catch a glimpse of a 200 pound blur in my left peripheral. In a second my jugular would be attacked by a British Knight and I'd by on the floor in the fetal position. This would also apply to WWF. I'd be laying on the couch minding my business when I'd see my brother launching off the arm of the sofa, yelling "DDT!!!!!" and would get a good blow to the ribs and the wind knocked out of me. I was also an unwilling opponent in arm wrestling after every "Over the Top" viewing at our house. If we had a scorpion laying around, you best believe I wouldn't have a hand to type right now.
Why must guys do this? It seems to be a reflex and nothing even premeditated...just a primal instinct to internalize the violence and unleash it on the nearest innocent bystander. Women are perfectly satisfied living vicariously and thinking "Oh, it would be nice to be so badass." Not boys...they've got something to prove in 10 minutes and then they're back to reality.
I expect some explanations....
-LC
1 comment:
I'm convinced I'm flat-chested because when I was young, my two older brothers would jump off the couch and land on me Jimmy Superfly Snuka style after watching WWF. My boobs ache just thinking about it...phantom pains.
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