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Real men want their women to be women, and real women want their men to be men. Period.

That’s how the real world operates. And all the rest of that shit that falls off by the wayside, sideways, upside down and in between is nothing but inadequate, useless and f*cked up beyond repair idiopathic dog manure.

Why do we and should we want the real deal? Because it takes an infinite amount of spirit, strength and nerve to achieve a level upon which we can feel comfortable enough with ourselves to be who we really want to be- and really love, without reservation, who we really want to love.

We women, LOVE OUR MEN- the bona fide straight to the point hardcore man’s man who handles business. We LOVE REAL MEN because they love and live to help us raise their children, have it bad for us as though their life depends on it, and can fix every damn thing around the house wearing just a tool belt and some underwear.

And when he’s got it going on like no other when he’s sitting there chowing down on the meal we slaved over all day cooking just for him, making love to every single bite and can’t stop “yumming, mmmming, and damning this is the best meal I’ve ever had in my life babe, thank you”, we thank our lucky stars we’ve found our own treasure trove they call MAN.

There’s a HUGE difference between a real man and a manboy- the guy who is a boy trapped in the half-shell of man, who’s preoccupied with holding onto parts of him that have yet to get a taste for what constitutes LIFE.

As far as manboy and babychicks are concerned, it’s true in a more generic definition that boys and girls are just that. BOYS and GIRLS. They don’t know what the eff they want, they don’t know how to get it, and they wouldn’t know what to do with it if they got it.

And you put those two together and it’s like lacing TNT and gasoline arriving at the equivalent of napalm- utterly destructive, volatile and reckless. Yet they deserve each other so they can learn a big lesson, whether they have kids together and end up trying to play house, or whether they hurt each other because they’re too blind, naive and stupid. Some of them never grow up, whether they’re 23 or 43. We’ll talk about babychicks at a later time but for now…

My ladies, young and mature, there’s a manboy who comes in all shapes, ages and sizes out there begging to sign his lowly “X marks the spot” in your guest book. He may be hot, he may be rich, and he may be an utter degenerative uncharming loser. Here’s how to tell…

He epitomizes women he could never ever sleep with.

This is the guy who has a million and ten pictures on his hard drive of half-naked beautiful women, with more ass, tits, fake hair and bleached pubes than dude can handle and HE KNOWS IT.

He has pictures he’s doctored and made into him standing next to a super duper famous fantasy hot chick- the same one he jerks off to in the middle of the night, of which he calls out her name in his lonely empty bed, and wakes up the next day and curses and hates her as he pours himself a bowl of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes and washes them down with self-pity and chocolate milk.

He spends all his time in porn chat rooms paying for peep shows and isolates and immerses himself in his delusional world among the douchebag women-hating sites where losery men gather behind a safety forcefield of anonymity and bash women- while at the same they want a woman so bad they get angry and turn to that prized Kim Kardashian blow up doll and beat her to death with their boyskin.

He’s overly preoccupied with beefing himself up and proving to everyone he’s not a loser, when he knows he is.

This is the guy who tells everyone he’s hung, has all the game, and says that chicks dig him because he’s El Mucho Macho. And if they don’t, he resents them and himself, and stands in the mirror that very night he gets dissed and flexes his peckies uttering the mantra “I am hard. I am tough”.

He insists that women simply can’t resist him and he’s had everyone and their mother fall quickly in love because he’s dashing, daring and debonair- in his own effing mind anyway.

This is the guy who, upon meeting him, shows you pictures of his hot rod, has a set of tits as his iphone home screen and has every manboy inspired film on video out there known to man in his vast home collection. He’s got the American Pies, the Knocked Ups, and the High School Cheerleader beer fests, and a Dukes of Hazzard symbol tattooed on his right arm.

He has issues with women because he’s completely inexperienced.

Dude has a “thin line between love and hate” relationship with himself and women because he’s never been in a relationship, has never had mind-blowing amorous sex (the kind that feels like you lose all sense of yourself and the person you’re with) much less any sex, and he believes all women should have no body hair, pimples, or rough spots.

He’s been so jaded by all the porn he watches that if he should be so inclined to actually have a chance to lay up with a real life woman, he gets all bent out of shape and picks her apart because she has a few missed hairs on her rear end, visible pores and real fingernails.

He get no boner because he a loner.

He’s never been in love, never touched a woman and hates women because he’s more than likely been hurt and abandoned by one sometime in his life. He refers to women as bitches, c*unts, whores, and sluts. And all his jaded bitterness dressed up in lint-covered Superman-footed PJs will keep him lonely and disillusioned as long as he lives.

He thinks being an asshole is an admirable trait when in fact, it’s a manboy shield he hides behind because he’s a coward.

This is the prick who throws his effing weight around at women like he’s the next John Wayne, and thinks he’s got balls until another dude comes along and cuts them off and exposes him for the ball-less fool that he is.

This is the guy who is so effing shallow, he reduces women to plastic body parts and tight holes, and will tell them they’re ugly and wretched after they’ve mercilessly shot him down because they’ve pinpointed just a how big a loser he is and refuse to date him.

He doesn’t have the courage to go out in the world and search deep inside himself and discover what makes a man a man, so he pushes people away, takes to shitting on people, and encases himself in a protective world of isolation against what he perceives will tear down his manhood and his ability to remain a 12-year old half-baked crybaby. Things like intimacy, compassion, taking responsibility and admitting he f*cked up and has faults.

In short, manboys need to get a real set. They need to go out there and work for a living, bleed a little bit and find a woman to love. There’s no other way to do it than to live it.

Make no mistake, manboy is a child dressed up in muscles, money, and machismo with all the traits of an elementary school kid who still thinks girls pee out of their butts, and are naturally born with perfect pedicured feet and a glowing bronze tan.

I say, let’s not disappoint them shall we? By staying away, shooting them down and not getting involved.