I noticed, I suppose it was about twenty years ago, a lot of single women, saying they hoped to find themselves "a sensitive, New Age Man". When I inquired as to just what that was, one female friend responded something like this, "Women are tired of you men who are insensitive, rough, uncaring brutes. We want tenderness, we want sensitivity, we want men who will talk about their feelings" So then I asked her just how it was we were supposed to be so willing to "talk about our feelings" since men didn't usually share those with each other the way women do, and probably wouldn't know how to, unless they'd been in therapy or something, and the reply was 'Typical male chauvinist posturing prick, acting like you're John Wayne! I'm so sick of you with your violence, and your beer-swilling partying, and teaching our sons to fight instead of talk things out; pigs, all of you!"
Well I figured she just had been spending too much time with guys who were gay, and I really didn't give it much thought, but a few months later she found herself one of these neutered, lapdog wonders who was straight (at least, I think he might have been) and darned if she didn't marry the sucker. She introduced him to me, a few months later, and I couldn't believe my eyes and ears, because this critter was about the sorriest excuse for a man I ever ran across. He'd cry at the drop of a hat, just like a girl; most of his conversation was some psychobabble I couldn't understand; he had this whiny voice, and all but cringed if she so much as raised her voice. He didn't watch football; said it was "too violent"; and he didn't drink beer, either; strictly wine and quiche for him. I swear, if you had shaved off his scraggly excuse for a beard, and put a ladies wig on his balding head, and put him in a damn dress, he would have looked like any ugly woman, and darned if I believe you could have told at first glance he wasn't one!
She stayed married to that poor emasculated creature for about a year, and even bragged on how "supportive" the relationship was, and how well they "communicated", until she figured out, that with him in the house, she might as well have been married to another woman, and I suppose the lesbian thing didn't appeal to her, so she gave him the boot. It was all OK though, he just went back home to live with his mama, which was where she found him.
She eventually remarried, this time a retired Marine Drill Instructor (so help me!) and that's a totally different relationship. He doesn't talk much, except to tell her to get him another beer and fix us a pizza while we watch football on TV; he packed her wimpy son off to military school for two years to make a man out of him, which I guess worked, because he's now a Marine himself. The wife is very happy; says he's the best thing that ever happened to her! I suppose she eventually figured out that a real man isn't so bad after all!
That's all well and good, but I can't help but wonder what the hell we're going to do with the rest of those feminized, simpering, sniveling crybaby excuses for males these women have created. There seems to be just about an entire generation of them, and they are a sad sight to behold; the worst part is, I don't think their condition is curable. They're the first thing I've seen that would bring tears to a real man's eyes, and that's damn pathetic.