I come here today to sing the praises of the men pop culture forgot. The nerds, the geeks, the dorks--the men that television and John Hughes movies would lead us to believe are lucky for any scrap of ass they can pick up from the reject pile hot bankers and dangerous bad boys leave in their wake.
It hasn't always been easy for the bookworms and gamers to get laid. But when they do, you'd best believe they're paying attention. What they typically see in porn and in their imagination is finally in front of them and they're fascinated. Naturally inquisitive, they love to see what happens when their tongue goes here. When a finger goes there. And once they see a result they like, they'll remember what caused it.
The impossibly handsome men who impeccably fill out their suits or jeans are great to look at when frequenting the bar or the gym. But while we may eat first with our eyes, it's the flavor by which we really judge a dish. And I want to be left with the memory of being rendered a lifeless pile of mute nerve endings, not being fucked jackrabbit-style by some lazy musclehead who only cares about his own satisfaction.
I salute you, men who are slightly scrawny and very bookish. Put down your comic books, close your laptop, and do me.