Men aren’t the same as they used to be. Men are different. They want the world to understand them and failing that, they want a B-movie to live in where world-weary women bring them hard liquor and look at them with understanding eyes. OK, OK, some men. Jesus, where’s your sense of humor? Do you like baseball? Men are conniving bastards with a hard-on and a harelip and should be driven through the streets with whips until they drop. I like baseball. I didn’t before. See? Men change. Robert, I know you mean well, but I can’t attend the wild man meeting this evening, because the Giants are in a crunch series with Cincinnati. Men will swim through a river of snot for a piece of that good thing. I forgot who said that. Men make horrible mistakes and spend years writing novels about it. They make their lovers into chapters. They will never finish the novel. Men play baseball. It looks as though the time is well spent. Some would say that. Some men.
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