A Random Oxford Professor

I got this email from someone a long time ago. Thought it was hilarious so I saved it to my computer. Stumbled acrossed it and thought I’d share something that’s funny with everyone. At least I think it’s funny.

I pump iron, because iron-pumping is manly. I returned to Oxford after a long winter break to find that my gym had been taken over by idiots. Every January these collar-popping pansies pollute my gym in hopes of gaining last-minute beach muscle in time for spring break. Then, by March they’re gone. This futile attempt to reverse a semester of binge drinking is turning my palace of testosterone into a combination of TRL and the Mickey Mouse Club, this annual phenomenon also illustrates the general lack of manliness in today’s society. Kids these days lack the sufficient couth, persistence and sportsmanship to maintain a grueling, manly year-round workout. These girly-men need to get the hell out of my gym. I miss days of our grandfathers, back when men were real men. Back then the game of dodgeball was played with rocks and the game of dodgerock was played with knives. I miss the days when everyone was a badass. Somehow between then and now fate decided to take a steaming hot dump all over Darwin’s grave as a generation of salty war veterans gave way to a generation of scarf-wearing vaginas. It hurts me to think that for years society stands idly painting its fingernails while icons like Clint Eastwood are replaced by wieners like Ryan Seacrest. If these generations of manly men were still alive they would spit tobacco juice in Ryan Seacrest’s face and then make him wash and wax their Trans Am. Back in the good old days things were much simpler. Back then you could walk into a café and not be totally confused. This is because back then it didn’t matter if you were trying to order, cappuccino, mocha latte or espresso they were all called the same thing – scotch. Back then four out of five doctors recommended smoking. This isn’t because of doctors’ ignorance to the dangers of smoking. This is because lungs used to be much more manly. Lungs used to be a manly shade of black instead of a girly shade of pink. But these days our lungs have devolved into an advanced state of weenie-ism making us incapable of enjoying rich tobacco goodness. When manly men aren’t eating pieces of shit like you for breakfast they’re eating sausage wrapped in bacon, wrapped in more bacon and topped with a fried egg, and they wash it down with a glass of bacon grease, topped off with a doctor recommended cigarette. Look at any grumpy old man and the first thing you’ll notice is that he smells like a medium-sized pile of garbage that is sitting on top of a large-sized pile of garbage. This is because of years and years of stink that has built up from a combination of bare-knuckle boxing and bare-knuckle lumberjacking. Wimps, weenies and vegetarians are ruining our great nation. America is on a downward spiral, we’ve got a fever and the only prescription is scotch, red meat and lumberjacks.

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