The Feminine Perspective against the Manosphere

[WashYourHands]

Women frequent crystal shops = a Brandian attempt at a pulling tip

 

[linebaugh]

Nah, I think they were too busy supporting civil rights or protesting the Vietnam war to get involved with politics.

I meant this half seriously if for no other reason than media saturation. there could be a more banal, quotidian manefestion of politics now than then. More normal and functioning people whose entire inner worlds revolve around it. Obv the 60s had that too but maybe less of these people? Every third grocery clerk now has the rigor and passion of the student activist. There also seems to be a pride now in 'having a take' where perhaps in the 60s polite society still considered political talk indecent. This is all a hunch though

 

[okzharp]

 

[version]

"Source: Craner's novel."

 

[okzharp]

Brett pulled his tank top up over his head and stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He pushed down his jeans, then his boxers, and imagined the moment when Jennifer saw him nude for the first time. His feet were average-sized, and there was hair on his toes that he should probably take care of before tonight. He liked his legs just fine, but his thighs were wide and embarrassingly muscular. He tried standing at an angle, a twist at his waist. Some improvement. In that position, it was easier to see his ass and notice that it was not as pert as it had been at 22. He clenched both cheeks, hoping that tightened its look. He sucked in his tummy and pulled his pecs up high, trying to present them like pastries in a bakery window. Would she like him? Were the goods good enough? He pouted his lips and ran his hands over his thighs, masking their expanse. Maybe.

 

[Mr. Tea]

"Source: Craner's novel."

I'd read the hell out of that.

 

[Mr. Tea]

Brett pulled his tank top up over his head and stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He pushed down his jeans, then his boxers, and imagined the moment when Jennifer saw him nude for the first time. His feet were average-sized, and there was hair on his toes that he should probably take care of before tonight. He liked his legs just fine, but his thighs were wide and embarrassingly muscular. He tried standing at an angle, a twist at his waist. Some improvement. In that position, it was easier to see his ass and notice that it was not as pert as it had been at 22. He clenched both cheeks, hoping that tightened its look. He sucked in his tummy and pulled his pecs up high, trying to present them like pastries in a bakery window. Would she like him? Were the goods good enough? He pouted his lips and ran his hands over his thighs, masking their expanse. Maybe.

"Source: Gus's novel"