… it’s as if they vanished over night leaving nothing but the stench of Hollister and Axe body spray to linger where they once stood.
Never before in my entire life has it been so hard to distinguish between a heterosexual male and a homosexual one. Boys, I call them boys because “men” does not apply, in their mid to late twenties are the strangest breed of effeminate creatures I have every seen. I certainly do not envy young ladies ten years my junior trying to find suitable mates. Not only do they have to decipher whether a man fancies them or not, they now also have to figure if the gentleman even fancies women at all.
At my age I am on the tail end of this gender blurring trend; however, to say I am completely immune would be an inaccuracy. Men in their early thirties, in attempts delay adulthood, have picked up on this trend… the castrated hipster in skinny jeans with the Beiber haircut. I’m not just referring to fashion trends but to the complete and total disappearance of manly demeanor and characteristics.
It’s all very confusing.