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The Latest In Manliness
Will China Collapse? Probably Eventually…Maybe…Nope
For years now, talking heads and keyboard warriors have been confidently declaring China’s impending collapse like it’s the hottest Netflix series that just won’t get canceled. Spoiler alert: the dragon keeps dancing. The truth? China’s economy is a bit like your favorite uncle’s old muscle car — it sputters, makes weird noises, and occasionally stalls,…
Dogs in Bed: Why I Sleep on 6 Inches of Mattress While My Irish Setter Lives Like a Tsar
At some point in every dog owner’s life, a critical question arises — a question that separates the strong from the sleep-deprived: “Should I let my dog sleep in bed with me?” To which the only honest answer is: “You don’t let them. You lost that battle the moment you said, ‘Who’s a good boy?’ in a baby…
Hand-Rolled Cigars: Because Nothing Says Sophistication Like Inhaling a Leaf Burrito
Let’s talk about cigars — not the machine-rolled, gas station variety that come in flavors like “Wild Cherry Regret,” but the real deal: hand-rolled cigars. These aren’t just tobacco products. They’re artisanal smoke sausages, rolled by hands that have seen more leaves than a national park. Lighting one is less about smoking and more about announcing…
Real Men Wear Nightshirts: A Bold Manifesto of Bedtime Masculinity
Let’s get one thing straight: nightshirts are the apex of manly sleepwear. I know what you’re thinking — “Isn’t that what Ebenezer Scrooge wore when he was busy yelling at ghosts and avoiding healthcare?” Yes. Yes, it is. But that man also got visited by three supernatural beings in one night and still made it to work…
eBay, My Personal Stylist and Spiritual Guide
By: A Person Who Has Bought a Designer Jacket from a Goat Farmer in Slovenia Look, I’m not saying I have a shopping problem. I’m saying I have a solution to the global overproduction of clothes, and that solution involves spending 2 a.m. bidding on a gently-used vintage leather jacket from a man named “BigChuck69” in rural…
There I was, knee-deep in hand grenade pins…
The smell of hot brass and questionable decisions lingered in the air. I’d been in some tight spots before — Balkan arms bazaars, West African coup d’états, a particularly treacherous dinner party in Georgetown — but none quite like this. It all started, as these things often do, with a misunderstanding involving a tribal chief,…
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