I am currently suffering through an existential crisis; the outcome of which will definitively determine my path as a male member of the species. Will I follow my current arc as a beacon of rugged masculinity or will I devolve into an emotional, withering pretty boy with a predilection for apple martinis?This conundrum I find myself in concerns my forthcoming Friday night activities. This evening I am pitching in a high level senior baseball tournament; this is not that interesting. Obviously I am going to throw a gem. That’s just how I do.
Moving on.
No, I am concerned with the television choices available to me after the game. On one hand, there is Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final. Any self-respecting Canadian boy should be amped for the opportunity to see Detroit and Pittsburgh battle for hockey supremacy in a winner takes all tilt.
Don’t get me wrong, I am pumped for tonight’s matchup; I may even consume a few adult beverages in order to make Don Cherry sound coherent.
However, the other option to satisfy my television palate starts at 9pm on W. Patrick Swayze, fresh off his Youngblood, Dirty Dancing and Roadhouse murderer’s row, stars in the dramatic classic, Ghost.
Now, I am a huge Patrick Swayze fan. His omission from my inaugural Mancrush List was an egregious travesty. I am also a massive fan of Ghost; I hesitate to call the movie a chick flick because I would like to maintain the tenuous grip I have on my testicles.
The pottery sex scene with Demi Moore to the Righteous Brother’s timeless ditty, Unchained Melody, is one of the greatest love scenes I have ever seen on film (next to the threesome I saw in my first porn, Generally Horny Hospital; thanks to older cousin Tewks for showing me that one).
I tried to recreate that scene with a special lady friend a few years back. It left something to be desired. I ended up with clay in places where clay doesn’t belong and also contracted a urinary tract infection.
What do I do? Commit fully to the hockey game and switch over to Ghost after the Cup presentation? Watch Ghost during breaks in the action? Watch hockey during commercials in Ghost?
I have no idea what I’m going to do. Normally I would be confident in my manhood no matter what path I end up choosing; but I’m feeling quite vulnerable this week because of an audition I had on Wednesday.
I auditioned as an underwear model for a print magazine shoot. I love any chance I get to be shirtless, but not when I have two dudes leering at me and taking my picture. Also, normally when I’m in my underwear that means an amourous embrace is in the offing so Tewks Junior gets himself into the launch position. If that had happened on Wednesday, I would have had a whole new set of problems for my therapist.
Another thing I noticed is that a lot of these model dudes have pretty weak ass physiques. Sure they have unbelievable definition in their abs, but at the expense of being 6 feet tall and weighing a buck sixty; whereas your man Tewks is 195lbs of pure beef.
I will gladly sacrifice an alien-looking 8-pack for the ability to squat and deadlift a metric ton. You fellas can have your loser modeling gigs; I’ll be sleeping with your girlfriends and flipping over your Honda Civics while you eat soy and throw up after meals.
Enjoy the game tonight; I’ll be thinking of the Penguins big win whilst bawling my eyes out when the Swayze and Demi kiss one last time.
Tewks is a frequent contributor to Gretzpo’s Sports Blog.
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