Tuesday, June 30, 2009

And Now For Something Completely Different

I am of that age where all of my friends are married and having kids. The lovely Mrs. Brick and I have not yet taken that plunge, and while we talk about it on a regular basis, there is always a reason to put procreating off a little longer.

Of course, being a red blooded American male, there is always that nagging little voice in the back of my head asking me “Why would you want to burden yourself with a child?”

I have to say, that nagging little voice is a wise man. I mean its enough of a pain in the when you have a pet. You have to feed him, pay his bills, clean up his shit and god forbid you want to travel, then you have to make separate arrangements for the animal.

As far as I can tell a kid is like a pet on steroids. Not only do you feed, cloth and raise them, but you have years of worrying and the expenses are much greater. My dog was trained to shit outside in a matter of a month or two, a kid, fuck they are in diapers for fucking ever. Then they get older and hate you, my dog loves me no matter what. Fuck as teenagers you have to worry about paying for college, drinking, drugs. And god forbid I have a daughter, my only goal in life at that point will be keeping her a virgin until at least 30, and off the stripper pole. Fortunately I have a shotgun.

Then I saw a phrase the other day that made so much sense to me. A light went off in my head. Two words explained how so many of my male brethren got over these nagging thoughts and did their part towards having a child.

No they weren’t “Busted Condom”, although that does explain many, or “Catholic Faith” it was something much more basic.

See as males, we are in competition from day 1. Nobody wants to be the last guy picked for the pick up football game. Getting cut from a sports team is a fait worse than death. The ultimate goal is a championship, in whatever you are doing. The best rise to the top they get rings, they get accolades. No one remembers the guy in 2nd place. They remember the guy who gets the trophy.

Parenthood for the man is the means to obtaining a living-breathing trophy. That’s right, bang the little lady, knock her up and 9 months later you are at the finish line, able to hold your new trophy for all to see. Friends and family shower you with gifts and accolades as you pass your personal Stanley Cup around to be kissed. Only you didn’t get this trophy for playing Hockey, you got it for Fucking. That’s right my friend you just won a:


Yeah, laugh if you want, I know I did when I first read those words as they related to having a child. But let it sink in a little, it is starting to make sense isn’t it. From day 1 what have those competitions been about? Has it been being the best baseball, football or basketball player, or has it been something more? Has it been about positioning yourself as the alpha male. The top dog who attracts the primo pussy.
The thing is, 99% of us never attain that alpha male status. We read about the exploits of our favorite athletes, musicians and actors. The piles of money, the jet setting life style, the beautiful women throwing themselves at their feet. We are forced to look elsewhere to obtain our champion status. And at my age, there is one surefire way to obtain the adoration of friends, family and colleagues. Get yourself a Fuck Trophy.

And there is more to it than that. Sure its nice to get the gifts and the congratulatory backslaps. But that little Fuck Trophy is something more. It is a permanent record of the fact that you have had intercourse at least once. Since your first kiss, your boys, no matter how tight you are, have doubted that you are actually scoring as much as you claim. With good reason, everyone exaggerates. But now there is no doubt, pending a DNA test, that you have in fact put your penis inside that woman.

You are a man now, fuck your bartmizfa or commencement, this is the day when all doubt is removed. You got your trophy.

This is not limited to the everyman either. Just take a quick look at the celebrity ranks, and you can see that the pursuit of a Fuck Trophy is universal.

Why would Brad Pitt want to risk ruining Angelina Jollie’s perfect body? They had plenty of kids running about thanks to 3rd world countries. There was no reason to risk marring that figure with stretch marks and sagging breasts. No reason except that Brad needed a Fuck Trophy to prove that he was in fact banging Angelina.

Tom Cruise gets pelted with questions about his sexuality. But what does he have that none of us do? Fuck Trophies from multiple Hollywood actresses.

Hell, even Michael Jackson, as strange and perverted as he may have been, went out of his way to get not one, not two but three Fuck Trophies to hold aloof (and almost drop) for the world to see.

Think about it, everyone knows at least one guy who is way out of his league with his woman. Fate has smiled upon that poor sap at least once in his life. I like to think that some of my friends think that way of me. But I know for a fact that one of my friends is in this boat. Motherfucker stepped up in the bottom of the ninth and hit a grand slam.

So it was no surprise that he quickly went about getting a trophy. Less than a year later his beautiful wife was with child, and he was strutting about like a peacock. But my man was not satisfied. He had his proof that he was hitting that, but he went for the back-to-back championships. Sure he claimed that the 2nd child was not planned, but now that you and I know about the status that comes with a Fuck Trophy, what do you think.

I think that lucky bastard was poking holes in his own condoms. What better way to prove to all that he not only was having sex with a knock out, but was having it on a regular basis. That’s right, multiple Fuck Trophies.

Of course it doesn’t end there. Soon the newness of your Trophy fades, someone else steels the spotlight with a Fuck Trophy of their own, and you are temporarily on the sidelines. But then, if you are lucky, your Trophy enters another phase. Where once again you feel the pride of everyone adoring you seed. That’s right, he or she makes something of himself or herself.

How often do you hear about your coworker’s kid’s exploits on the field, the ice or in school? “That’s my boy” might as well be “That’s my Fuck Trophy”. The old man wants the praise heaped upon his offspring, because it is his way of showing his Fuck Trophy is better than anyone else’s. The better your Fuck Trophy, the better you look, the happier you are.

Do you think Tom Brady’s father is having a mid life crisis? Fuck no; he has the ’86 Bears of Fuck Trophies. His Fuck Trophy has its own rings, millions of dollars and a Super Model wife. You can put that Fuck Trophy up against the greatest of all time, and hold your own.

My old man, well lets just say he bought a Harley.