The terrified body language poseurs exude when confronted with the authentic version of what they're feigning to be.

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The hunt for vegan barbeque sauce: the plight of the modern black male.

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Reoccurring daydream where I flip a light switch, then a monstrous garbage disposal begins to whirr and the entire earth gets sucked down and ground into nothingness.

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Honestly waiting for a trend where men grow out their chest/belly hair, then groom it in some whimsical way, like, only leaving the nipples hairy or something really fucking moronic and anti-masculine similar to that.

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You are the sum total of your 'cutesy' bullshit.

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Heart like a discarded twinkie wrapper floating in a clogged urinal.

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Death like the credits at the end of a late night infomercial nobody watched.

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I hope when I die a large bird of paradise grows from my corpse and the world becomes a slightly better version of itself.

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The perpetual feeling that, regardless of how much effort you've put forth in progressing self-actualization, every social interaction leaves other people emotionally hurt or alienated, and, despite feeling terrible about it, finding the motivation to continue the cycle hoping that one day you'll finally be a complete and psychologically healthy human being who'll initiate a relationship with someone that will end like an episode of 'friends'.

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A more succinct word that defines male anger towards women; not hatred.

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That humorous look of feigned disgust women offer in response to being told you'd thoroughly enjoy smelling their sweaty armpit aroma.

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That special type of internal laughter which comes after deflecting someone's banal insult about physical appearance and who then repeats themselves thinking you're self-acceptance isn't real.

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Recurrent daydream of stabbing my eyes out with a dull knife then seeing the world perfectly.

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Pick-up line consisting of pointing a loaded gun at your face and saying, 'it isn't going to suck itself, girlie.'

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Humiliation glory hole where a chick on the other side just criticizes your dick instead of sucking it.

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Legally changing my name to 'horse fart lover'.

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New insult where I coldly stare at someone and say, 'fuck your face.'

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Slow-motion shot of a woman's decapitated head falling endlessly down a background of pale blue.

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The rehearsal dinner for a wedding is a grotesque parade of emasculation and sadness.

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Doom like a soft breeze flowing through a tattered spiderweb.

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Often simultaneously amazed/terrified to be part of this shared reality.

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Pickup line consisting of using my dick to paint a woman's face like an easter egg, then hiding her body in an abandoned field.

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Fantasy consisting of filling an oversize wooden bucket with heavy cream and cinnabons, then having naked women bob and try to pluck the mall pastries out with their teeth.

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Would like to live out the rest of my life on an abandoned bus in a third world country.

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April Fool's has degraded to 'Lazy Tricks for Mouthbreathers by Mouthbreathers Day.'

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The 'who is you foundation': a non-profit, outreach organization founded by sam pink and myself that sends retired boxers and mma fighters to elementary schools with the intention of providing a learning experience on the importance of being headstrong, avoiding laziness and whining, and staring through a motherfucker and meaning it.

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My armpits smell like desire.

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Schizoid personality disorder; a biography.

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Cat call consisting of aggressively saying the phrase, 'hey, stupid.'

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Act of humiliation where I just feed you burger king.

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H. Salt Fish and Chips is the rape van of fast food restaurants.

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Hopelessness like a fish floating in a sandwich bag filled with tap water.

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Cultural turning point where 'beer runs' have been replaced by whining on the internet until someone provides alcohol.

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Kickstarter fund to send me traveling across the united states to collect tears from the eyes of heartbroken widows and divorcees.

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Fantasy consisting of dumping a bucket of glitter into a large fan that's pointed at a naked woman smothered in coconut oil.

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Approaching someone from behind, placing a hand on their shoulder, leaning in, then whispering into their ear, 'get stronger.'

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That 21st century look of utter confusion after gifting someone a thing you've made, especially a food dish or pastry.

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Tiny asteroid falling from the sky and obliterating the skull of whoever the fuck buys 'st. patrick's day' greeting cards.

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Depression like the cold suck of a dental instrument.

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The password is 'bullshit people'.

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Depression like another man's dick draped over your shoulder.

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Would like to see a battle royale between the trust fund hippies, trust fund wiggers, and trust fund punk rockers.

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Fantasy consisting of wearing ronda rousey's post-fight panties over my face.

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Fantasy consisting of ice skating in a rink filled with the frozen tears of all the women i've known.

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Fantasy consisting of licking honey out of the armpit of a shy girl.

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'Laundromat' is just a fancy synonym for 'orgy'.

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Comprising your identity by which retail clothing store is frequented at the mall.

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Depression like a police helicopter circling over your head.

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Fantasy consisting of a greased floor, three naked and bound women, a hot dog suspended 4 feet from the ground, and a competition to see who can be the first to eat it.

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Fantasy consisting of listening to a woman cry over the phone while getting my dick sucked.

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Fantasy consisting of me backstroking in an olympic-sized pool of filthy panties.

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The insurmountably comical question 'how long did it take to grow your beard?'

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The final level of 'who is you' consisting of muttering, fist clenching, and eye snarling at anything dumb enough to make the mistake of entering your reality, even women, children, chickens, candy wrappers, fire hydrants or the sun.

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No matter how close you get to a person, always the feeling of unending distance.

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Fantasy consisting of mummifying an unconscious woman with 'fruit-by-the-foot.'

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Gravestone that says 'fuck you {name of ex-wife}'

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Being critical of the grammar of other human beings, while wholeheartedly accepting the near destruction of language by corporate marketing departments and manipulative shit weasels emulating such strategies.

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Modified heat-seeking missile that homes in on people using the term 'wheelhouse'.

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Future museum exhibit of a scrotum in a glass jar on top of a marble pillar.

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