Sorry Rudyard

Sorry Rudyard (I know you meant well)

 

If you can lose your head after 8 pints of fruit cider, and your mates have to stop you from decking someone.
If you can think that 8 pints of fruit cider at night and the gym in the morning isn’t some sort of a contradiction.

If you can let off fireworks at 3am because it’s a laugh, and believe that speed limits are just a loose guideline.
If you can think KFC is a meal and ever say, “Mmmmm, bacon!” to a vegan.  Ever!

If you can imagine that “Look at the tits on that” and “I’d shag it” are somehow complimentary.
If you can only watch pornography that is generic, anonymous and predictable.

If you can dress in black and grey tracksuits and haircuts identical to your mates and pay a fortune for trainers that look the same as any other trainers, because if you tried something different they’d take the piss.

If you can pretend to repeatedly punch your girlfriend in the face in public, because you’ve no idea how to show actual affection and you know that, eventually, you really will repeatedly punch your girlfriend in the face.

If you can ride a trials bike through a forest.  If you can ride it round your estate without a helmet, but with a balaclava so you won’t get recognized.

If you can vape on the bus, smoke dope in the front garden and start fights over football on the Metrolink.
If you can subsume all your emotions into anger because it’s the only acceptable one.

If you can think that poetry is boring, theatre’s for queers and never, ever enter an art gallery or pick up a book.
If you can say “fucking” instead of “erm” and learn the word “clitoris” only to forget it again.

If you could vote for Boris Johnson because he’s funny and think that Andrew Tate and Piers Morgan are ‘alpha males’.  If can you think that ‘alpha males’ actually exist.
If you can feel uncomfortable around gay men, because deep down you’re scared they might want to treat you like you want to treat women.

If you can truly be a bog-standard, socially-normalised, male-pattern knob’ead - then this mediocre life of Wetherspoons, Greggs pastie’s and GB news is yours for the taking. 

And what’s more.
You’ll be told you’re a man, my son.

 

October 2023

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