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A Letter to Men
You have places on your body that, to us, are equivalent to the way you feel about boobs. We like it when you wear your jeans low so that lifting your arms exposes the muscles at your sides, you know: the bottom of those obliques. The “V”. There are few things sexierthan that. Except maybe when you take your hoodie off by pulling on the collar behind your neck and it lifts your shirt up with it. That’s pretty fucking hot too.
And speaking of your body, you don’t understand the power of your own smell. Any woman who is currently with a man is with him partly because she loves the way he smells. And if we haven’t smelled you for a day or two and then we suddenly are within inches of you, we swoon. We get light-headed. It’s intoxicating. It makes us want to hop on you like we’re filming a new Axe Body Spray commercial.
Stand up, open a door, offer a jacket. We talk about it with our friends after you do it. We say, “Can you believe he stood up when I approached the table?” It makes us feel important. And it makes you important because we talk about it.
Men should read more. No matter how often or how much you read, you should read more. We mean books, not magazines or blogs or mail. It’s sexy; when we see you reading, we get lady boners.
There are better words than beautiful. Radiant, for instance. It’s such an under-used word. And it’s so pretty. “You are radiant.” Also, enchanting, smoldering, intoxicating, charming, lovely. Try them.
Learn to get your way. It’s not just the women that are masters of manipulation. If you really want us to go to the bar to watch the world cup with your friends but we want to stay in and cuddle and watch ‘The Holiday’, then narrow those beautiful eyes of yours, put your hands on our waist and press your pelvis into us; lower that voice and whisper “please” in our ear a couple of times. See if we’re not handing you a Golden Light and leaning across the table to kiss you when your team scores within the next hour.
Panties is a wonderful word. When did men stop saying “panties” ?? It’s sexy. It’s girlie. It’s naughty. Say it more.
Never complain about our friends — even if we do. No matter how many times we say a friend of ours is driving us crazy, you are not to pile on. Not because it offends us. But because it adds to the weight that we carry around about her. Also, don’t make fun of our friends. Even if we’re laughing at the fact that she passed out in a port-a-potty during a tailgate. It’s not your place to make fun.
Don’t judge our book by the cover. Yes, our shirts sometimes have puffy sleeves, or we wear hats that look like they belong to the homeless man on the corner, and our lipgloss is shimmery pink, and we have an entire can of ‘Big Sexy Hair’ hairspray in our hair, but we like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and playing catch with the football in the dark. We will mess our hair up jamming out to Aaron Carter while we clean and we will stand in line all day, hungover, to have Paramore sign our CD cover. Our sneakers are dirty and our face is bare, but underneath that t-shirt and pair of jeans is a pair of red lace underwear that will make your head explode.
No shorts that go below the knee. The ones almost like capri pants, the ones that hover somewhere between the kneecap and the calf? Enough with those shorts. They are the most embarrassing pants in the world. They should never be worn. No woman likes those. Old man boating shoes and man uggs are debateable.
Compliment us often, but change it up. You are capable of far more than “you’re so hot”, so act like it. Choose a feature, a characteristic, a quirk that you find irresistible and tell us; be specific. If you love it when we bite our bottom lip as we concentrate on moving the joysticks in the correct succession when playing Left 4 Dead 2, or how we squint one eye and scrunch our lip when we throw the ball in beer pong, tell us. We like that sort of thing.
We’re always listening, even if you don’t think we are. We hear what you say in our sleep, from across the room, when we’re sitting in the car and you’re two blocks over. Our ears are super sonic. That comment about how great our ass is to your friend under your breath when we walk in the room just may make tonight’s blow job a bit more energetic. Muttering “damn” while watching the waitress walk away, however, may cause us to use a bit more teeth than necessary.
There few things more important to us than our music. If you walk into our home, get into our car, shuffle through our iPod, please refrain from turning your nose up at what you hear. Nasty comments about Ke$ha will have a similar effect to you ogling freshman girls in front of us. Plus, we don’t judge you for your Eminem fascination (openly).
Do not assume. If we’re in a ‘mood’, we are not necessarily PMSing, and attributing our mood to that will do more harm than good. It’s possible that we dreamed that we walked in on you fucking another woman and it was so realistic that we can’t relinquish the crazy anger it caused us to feel , but we can’t really tell you what we’re mad about either now can we? Be patient, it will pass.
Women remember forever what you say about the bodies of other women. When you mention in passing that a certain woman is attractive — could be someone from work, a woman on the street, a celebrity, any woman in the world, really — your comment goes into a steel box and it stays there forever. We will file the comment under “Women He Finds Attractive.”
To be taken into consideration.