Who's got Game?
Last month we took the kids to the National Zoo in Washington DC. All through the zoo, #2 the aspy, would rattle off facts and observations about the animals he saw. Though sometimes he has a rough time distinguishing between pure fact and his facts. What we saw over and over again was that the males in any species were prettier than the female counterparts. In my one class in Genetics, I learned that the males are prettier because they are trying to attract the females and spread their DNA to attain the goal of Mendelian Fitness. "Hey mom, the male peacock wants romance", said #2 as the peacock opened his feathers to full display. Peacock's got game.
So what the hell happened with people? How come with humans, the females are the pretty ones and the pretty men are men's men? It makes it harder to find suitable seed when the playing-field is laden with so many undesirable variations. If the males primal need is to spread his seed, and he doesn't play for the NBA, then he has to get game somehow. Living with your parents and mastering video games isn't the way. Nor is eating like a 15 year old. If there is one thing we've learned from Jerry Springer, it's that if the first guy that comes your way doesn't have teeth, there might be a winner in the next trailer. I just don't get it that women fight over men. Really? Looking at half those guys that are the middle of a cat fight, do you really want to perpetuate their genes? Eeeww. Well, someone has to live in the trailers.
Some guys hit the gym and work on the moves to actually find a female to reproduce with. Many move to suburbia and have kids and that is when they start to go downhill fast.
We moved to Baltimore three years ago and joined the pool each summer. The majority of pool patrons are families from a pretty homogeneous neighborhood with a few tokens thrown into the mix for good measure. My observations are as followed: The women tried to look good, at least some of them worked out and owned that swim suit. The guys however, all looked like the centerfold of Dump magazine. Really, put that shirt on. Your boobs are bigger than most of the ladies. It seemed that once they had kids and "spread the seed" they let themselves fall into a state of decay, much like a flower after it has been pollinated. If you looked hard at them and at their kids, you could find traces of the attractiveness that used to be, but it is hidden under at least one layer of Krispy Kreme.
Those type of guys are usually the same ones you see trying to pick up the "barely legals", that you and your friends laugh at during Girl's night out. I remember those guys that used to hit on me in my early days. They'd moan and complain that they weren't getting laid or serviced and how their wives shut down. Well, if you looked like a doughnut covered, shadow of a man, you used to be, I wouldn't be knocking on your door either. Stop whining and get your fat ass to a gym and go buy your wife some fucking flowers, asshole. It's not her, it's you.
This weekend when the pool opens, I will get to see all the puffy men and pretty women and for some, I'll look at their youngest child and mentally do the math as to how long it has been since they had sex. And for others, I'll see the cumulative effort of all their gym days. Nonetheless, it should be fun to see all our neighbors half naked. Well, at least they all have their teeth.