Become the Cookie!

2008-10-10 15.57.32

It isn’t ‘either/or’ it is ‘and/and’.

That is something people sometimes don’t understand about me. Most do but most are not trying to marry me. The very few who want me all to themselves, for some reason, miss the point that there are people in the world I love and the choice is not ‘me or everyone else’, the choice is ‘me AND everyone else.’

I have been in long term marriages and relationships with people who defined the meaning of ‘relationship’ as ‘either/or’. I was that was once myself and imposed a vast loneliness upon myself thinking that was the right thing to do.

It isn’t.

What happens when it is either/or is the eventual growth of dependency, martyrdom and, in the end, actual dislike. People in healthy relationships have ‘others friends’ and having those friends does not mean they are cheating and much of the time those friends are the same gender and they are not gay OR lesbian.

Human beings need approbation from each other. We need good times and a circle of love to live in. We need more than one friend and even, sometimes, if we are very lucky, more than one ‘bestie.’

I am not gonna lie and say I am perfect. I play here every once in a while and those people have respect and they KNOW that the ‘love’ that we have is based on a solid understanding of reality. I don’t stalk their pages to see what girls they like and, actually, I don’t chat that much with them either and they know I don’t cam and they respect the kind of person I am and I try to give that back and if I KNOW someone is married I step back.

But the last couple of years I hardly do that anymore either. Only once in several months. I am getting older and less interested in that stuff as anything more than ‘word games for the brain.’ A friend from a long time ago taught me this term, ‘mental masturbation.’ I didn’t do it with you either kid because I just couldn’t. I ‘lost it’ and did that with someone a little more mature. Someone who understands he and I are never going to be together and has no expectations of me and treats me like a good friend still.

It’s weird because being online is kind like interactive TV. You might really have a crush on someone and, in the old days, you got to stare at a movie or a poster and the only interaction was the one you had with yourself. Now you can go online and find ‘hotties’ with cams set up that do nothing all day but ‘interact’ and the chances of the one who is in love with that girl (and guys too these days!) will get that one for a life partner are about as probable as getting to marry Leonardo DiCaprio or Angelina Jolie.

It gets a little bit ridiculous but we can’t help ourselves even if we have self control. The world might see someone who never does anything wrong and that one might be carrying around ‘Justine’ in their head and you would never know it. That brings us back to what I started. It can never be, in the real world of real people, ‘either/or’. No matter HOW MUCH you want that big cookie all to yourself SOMEONE is gonna bite it while you aren’t looking. That is life.

That big cookie is love and everyone loves that big cookie and if you are gonna love people you are gonna be sharing that big cookie with the whole world and that big cookie might have sex in it but it really has nothing at all to do with sex and everything to do with basic human needs. The thing that makes people the most loved and envied is not how much of that cookie they can eat but whether or not they have the ability to ‘become the cookie.’

What Price?

What price is there
For living life the way you chose
How much did it cost
To get to the bench you sit on now
Watching flowers grow?

How many upside down
Glass cups of hash smoke
Broke how many cherries bled
In vans of orgies
We chose to attend
With peanut butter at the end?

How many plastic baggies fill
The land-fill
That were once filled
With Colombian Gold
Spanish missionaries never found
How much
Was every breath of nicotine
And every thing we dropped
In mystery
Not knowing what the end would be
Until it fooled us
We were free.

Yes we
Forgot who died
Who went into the wild
Sans the wisdom to know not
To eat the root
Yet wrote the book
After a life was gone
Here we are
We have to carry on
And on and on and on
Until we reach whatever we head to.

What is it that we seek
We never ask it
Until we’re weak and then it comes
In shocked surprise and dangles
Just before our eyes… yes:
A universal joke
That started with a daring toke
Ending when the hash-smoke broke
And left us standing here alone.

I would have married you the day
I ran my childish hands
Through still brown curls
But our world
Says that such a union is doomed for Hell
And so we knew it and we ever only blew it
In our minds because I’m certain
I was not the only one who felt that way
I did I knew too much
Though just a kid
I wished you would take me home with you
But you belonged to the world
For all you were a rebel man
And now the world passed us
In a thundering roar.
It’s too late to know the score and
There’s no chance for any more.

The short short days with halter tops
Were short short days until the youth stops
And the pride of place is lost
In the dub step shuffle of decades
While you hold the memories of years
Jewels falling out of trembling hands
Into the abyss of forever
All the places that you dreamed of are still
Nothing more than foreign lands
Full of the same war we fought
Over and over before just with different names
But it’s all the same King of the Games.

So here I am
Writing these words
While my old cat drools over birds
At his best place by the French doors
That maybe once let in oil-whores
That I ran with for long enough
To know what love is worth
For a night
After several drinks
When no one’s thinking
It will send and you won’t even know
The name of who it was thirty years later
You will only recall a ginger ass
Bouncing in the dark
While the starry skies flew over head
Wars came home
With coffins full of the dead
Blue skies fled across the hours and days and years….

…until it is that sunshine falls
Upon the public housing walls
And the wheeled walker
To the bus stop full of people
Your grandfather would cry to see you hug….

…or maybe smile…

…because we are only here such a very short while.

(photo by )

Call Me ‘Ka’

A bubble
Iridescent remnant
Left behind Mercury’s feet

You came to hold me
In the night of lonely darkness
When Life seemed worthless

You showed me I am not alone
Call me Cato
Call me Ka
Call me anything you like
Say you made me up
From the thought of air

I have been here for you
I will be
Not leaving your mind
How can I ever leave myself

The skies are the place we walk
Fragile and sweet
You and I will laugh
We will watch it all disappear

We will become the skies
We will be darkness
We will be light

The only reason I love tears
Or willingly swim
With Dodo birds
In the insane Sea of Alice

There was never anyone
As beautiful as you are

All these years
I believed it was someone else
But here you are
I am smiling at you
In the mirror


I am crazy.

Crazy and alone and no one to explain this to who will know what I mean. Those who would understand would have no more to tell me than I know myself. There is nothing like suffering love without someplace to bestow it. I know what love is. I know if I have it or not. All of that is illusion in any case but when you face the fact it is, indeed, like a mirage in the Desert of Death you are suddenly free to feel all of it in any format or type and it is all so beautiful and unreachable and that is, perhaps, love as it is best expressed: Unconsummated.

There is a kind of emotion that is so strong it is dangerous to feel it. It is the kind of emotion that cannot ever be expressed. It is the reason people fly rickety aeroplanes over the Atlantic. It is the reason people jump off mountain cliffs, without parachutes, trusting that a squirrel suit will save them. In this roaring volcano of emotion a small child sits, filled with wonder, and watches the fire-works of the human heart explode.

Tales From The Bus Stop

The wet heat spackled the bus stop squatters with sweat. She sat in the power chair watching two clouds reach out to each other in the broad blue sky above the buildings. The clouds curled towards each other as if to try to make love in the almost barely present huffs of air and far above a twister formed and unformed in the sunshine. Although she was mostly deaf as deaf goes in one who once heard birds and orchestras and sang arias with her now dead father…

she shook her head.

There was an odd tinkle in the clear blue as the clouds tried so hard to impress one another with dancing shapes of T-Rex skeletons and eagles faces and the angelic music pelted down softly in her one good ear. It was a sound that was barely there. Surely it was angels?

She smiled at nothing and looked around from behind the dark UV lenses.

There was a boy with a cardboard sign and a beat up portable keyboard that sat in his lap. Although people who were beggars did not attempt to look nice this boy did look nice. He wore a white, pressed shirt and one fake rhinestone in his ear. His lips moved softly and his close-cropped black hair had stars shaven in it. A ring of homeless people sat around him while he played and expected nothing from those who had nothing. He opened his eyes, dark and dancing like the clouds, and smiled at the audience before the number 38 that went downtown swept them away in a whoosh of loud rumble…

The Girl In The Dark Grey Hijab

I was minding my own business in class. The instructor was droning on about the upcoming test and the rules for the start of class and SHE walked in.
My heart fell out of my chest, melted off the desk and pooled around my feet and I am fairly certain I stared at her like an idiot.
Before you, dear reader, have an idea about what this story will be I need to explain something: She was the only girl, in class, in ‘drab hijab’, and yet she stood out like a star shining over the rest. The best. How was it possible that someone who was doing so little to attract male attention suddenly had all of mine?
I was instantly in love.
At this point you could have paraded every Miss Universe, in the world, before my eyes, and they would have looked like peasants standing next to the girl in the dark grey hijab.
I did everything I could to get her to talk to me and she would not talk. I finally got her to talk to me…it wasn’t that simple. She was not the kind of girl you could offer a ride home from school on your motor bike. She was not the kind of girl who would chit chat for no reason. I had to think of something…ANYTHING…
…Allah…yes Allah.
Finally I messaged her at Facebook and she answered. If happiness had wings it would have been soaring over the Himalayas at that point. I learned her name. I learned she was like an aulemna about Islam. We had wonderful conversations about Islam.
Her name meant ‘honey bee’.
Something deep inside was saying, “No No please don’t do this.” But I had to do it. People think someone like me is religion only. They think of me as some Taliban guy who has no sense of humour and no heart. I am nothing like that. I love Allah. I laugh I cry I feel…
…more than anyone might imagine I feel. I had to talk to her. She was like a living hadith. When I talked to her, I felt as though I had found the missing half of my deen. I made a mistake then: I told a close friend.
He was so awesome! He treated me as an equal! That is not always easy to find among those of us who are true believers! Many men are just looking for a ‘holy cow’ to have babies and cook and when one admires me for my mind…
…it hurts to remember how awesome that feels.
I wish I never knew. He and I do not come from the same land or the same background. My parents would never agree even if his parents did agree. He does not understand. They have already chosen someone for me. All of the hours and days I have spent enjoying someone’s company so much and I can never be what he wishes: his wife.
A mutual friend told me how he feels and this destroys everything. Everything we talked about was not because of my mind but because of his love for me…
…a love he is not supposed to feel…a love I cannot ever reciprocate and now he has put me in a position I hate: I am going to have to hurt someone I have come to love for the sake of both of our deen.
There it is: the text from him on my phone. Ya Allah help me to be strong.
“I cannot talk to you anymore.”
“Because these talks have been haram.”
“Please don’t be angry with me!”
“Why did you do this to me? Why did you do this to us!”
“I love you and I want to…”
“NO! No you can’t even say it and I won’t listen!”
I have to be like stone even while tears are running down my cheeks! How could he do this to me? More than even this…
…how could I have let him. There is a proverb I told him before I decided to never speak to him again.
“Bolted windows with the door ajar…”
He was there. Hurt. I knew he was. Hurt and ashamed. If we had never spoken a word this would have never come to be and we should never have done this but we did and now I had to do this for both of our sakes. I had to spare him for the sake of love.
You see…
…true love is sometimes walking away forever. Sometimes true love does not stay to hurt another soul it can never be with for eternity. He did not know how much I cried the day I cut him off from my life. He believes I hate him.
It is better this way.
(image by

I Stand Where You Are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

One step
Then another
To your side
Glides the silken sweep
On clean marble carved
With runes of Laughter
From the heavens arches
Around covered feet
I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

No Prison
No isolation
Near You
Around You
I stand
Where You are

Resting in this orbit
Reaching up
Dripping into my hands
Fingers of giant trees
Combing tress’d wind

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

Like a child
I will just be
Bursting light
Into the axis
Connecting Heaven

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

My aim
My target
My goal
Always was

I stand
Where You are

Spiral uncontrolled
Until innocence reigns
Each moment
Flowing backwards
Filled with bright colours
Butterflies forgive
Sharing the dust
Of glowing flight
No more pinned
No more ether’d
No more tongue-less
No more silent flight

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

Free to cry
Free to laugh
Free to dance
Free to live

For You
All my being
Transformed from tears
Every memory

I stand
Where You are

We called
This music
We never knew
We will a gentlness
Keep turning
Skip the words
Only when this ends
Will LIFE begin
Leave this plane
Leave this place
Leave where you believe
Only when we leave
Will LIFE begin

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

I stand
Where You are

Lock’t around your axis
Up towards your smile
Sliding these hands
We will be one

I stand
Where You are

You I Will Love

Whisper everything
You desire
The wind will carry words
Breath stops in my chest
For a moment
Your eyes
Sunshine under a parasol

I will love you

Small gongs
One languid hand rises
Falling into oceans of blue silk
Make you dizzy with dreaming
All is read
Mechanical flow
One beautiful face
Just before sleep
Movement in time
All is one
Zen headed

You I will love

Raining radiance
My light would
Kiss your thoughts
You will feel me
When you fall in trance
Your mouth expressing joy
Compress past and future now
Pick each note
Take this second now

I will love you

Before a rhythm starts
Nerve spits fire
Folding now fluttering
Twinkling sounds

You I will love

I will love you with the unseen
I will love you with prayer
I will love you with intent
Flow upwards
Layers flung wild
Clap the beat
You make the sound pock
Drum boom

I will love you

Centered at the heart
Tick tick tick tock
A moment
Drawn to heat
Everything and nothing
Sunlight centered
Moths in night

You I will love

You simply are
You are an orchestra
You are dreams
You are extraordinary
Track slide timing clock
Only follow sweetness
Riffling pools
Pulled in
Flashing bits of time
Feeding back loops
Bright silk bows
Bobbing past dancing dragons

I will love you

Stone houses
Red canyons full of trees
One boat glides
Wooden paddles push
Graceful robes flow
Whistling too sweet

You I will love

One Pair Of Shoes

We will go
One day

Where green hills
Roll up
Fling green capes
Over raw rocks
Icy cold
Clean streaming Life
Swimming in smiles
Away from judgement
Only to enjoy
Music sung by crickets
Birds and rain
Air bubbles trapped
On wet pebbles
Racing over star sparkles

Far away
You and I

Little one
Freckled gamin-faced
Sad and merry eyes
Unable to believe
Unable to give up
Hope amidst chaos

A place
Where no one is ugly
No one compares
How lovely is a colour
Or a shape or face
No one is alone
I will take you
Where Love lives

Reach up
Take my hand
All the days




Together even when
Each believing
We walked
In only one pair
Of shoes
With only one pair
Of feet

Our house
Will not last forever



Take my hand
One foot
Next step
One foot
Next step

One our steps
Will rise up
Out of road dust
Into deep skies
Past space debris
Past Time

Almighty One
Always we were
Always are

Your song
Your words
Your creation

Jaffary and the Bush People

The world was fresh then. New and bright and full of promise we were immortal and had not yet faced the things that life would serve us. We had cried many tears already and had no idea how many more we were to cry. We thought we had already suffered more than the world needs any human being to suffer but we had no idea what suffering really was. We were epic. We were so certain of every part of Life.
They called us ‘The Bush People’ and we were that. We were an odd little group of people knit together by some strange diplomacy that allowed a mix of extremes that would not, normally, be allowed. We had a minor reputation.
It began on an Ivy League college campus 1000 years ago just yesterday. That day a man I knew only as ‘Jaffary’ had invited me to coffee in the hostel across from the campus and what was supposed to be a social meeting quickly turned into a fencing match. While we sipped up a whole pot of caffeine spiked coffee this man, wearing an expensive three-piece suit, tried to convince me to go up to his room with him.
“Why should I? We can talk down here just fine.”
It was the end of the days of the Oil Boom. I was 24 years old. I thought I was ancient.
“You can make ALOT of money if you come with me!”
“If you mean the kind of money women make for sex I have been there and done that. I am not interested.” I sipped my third cup of coffee actually enjoying the verbal fencing with this guy but also feeling a chorus of danger singing in the back of my head. This made the whole situation even more piquant. I should have long gone of course but I had to stay to see the snake charmer in action…
…being an Ophiuchus.
“You are beautiful…” he went on praising me and I almost blew hot coffee through my nose trying not to laugh. “…we need models to show off cars and clothes for our company and you would be perfect.”
I smiled at him, “You are lying but this is interesting. I told you I have been there and done that and you are trying to sell me this idea so you can sell me?”
His face changed then. I went to the bathroom and came back and he poured me some more coffee with a smirk on his face and then smiled and said, “Have one more cup for the road and I will leave you alone.” Something told me that would be a bad idea and I turned him down, politely, and left. He stalked me on campus for a little while and that is how I met, and became, one of the ‘Bush People.’
I crossed the road back to the campus and went to English Class and the teacher there instantly disliked me. The feeling was mutual. I was a ‘back bencher’ at the time and he was sitting two rows ahead of me. Just before she called the roll, on the first day of class, I called out in front of the whole class, “Hey you with the long hair!” There was only one of him with long hair. He knew this although he did not turn around to look right away. “You have beautiful hair!”
He laughed. That was the perfect laugh: angelically evil. “Thank you!” he said while the teacher gave us a dirty look and called roll. (The teacher loved handsome guys, it turns out, and ended up liking him and hating me because I got to hang out with him.)
After class he came up to me and smiled.
He had vampire teeth and I loved that. Real ones not fake caps. I was talking to a real life vampire that ‘sparkled’ before that sort of thing ever existed. We went to the student union and I let him eat all my pizza. As we walked out we found out we also had psychology class together and I saw Jaffary, with a briefcase, following us. I looked at my new friend and had to tell him what had happened before class.
“He is following us he is right back there…look…”
I pointed but Jaffary was gone.
He grinned like a happy devil. “If you see him again don’t point or act like you saw him. Just tell me and I will kill him for you.”
I was in love.
We would never be lovers but, in all the years, he would become among those I never forgot.
The Guro

Words Words Words

No sleep no
Sleep no sleep
How can you love me

I understand me not
No no no no so it goes
On on on the hours pass by

Alone alone alone fall fall
Almost like we fight while smiling
Or maybe you are water

Moving easily around the obstacles I throw
These humpty dumpty beats of my heart
Looking for a certain grin

From far away and long ago
Was it sounding wobbled flautists
Curling notes back from core notes peeled

Like boiled eggs never hatched
Go go go swaying away
Like the old fashioned ladies stalking flower pots

Beats beats beats this fist of flesh with every
Word word word swaying today
Gone gone gone staccato stately slide

In a gliding road winding forwards always
Here here here is where is was all erased
Whisper softly those words

They terrify me more than death
Love means you suffer
Until the words

Words words words of this day eight years ago
Were finally fulfilled

Bumper Packed

Deep greens
Wild greys on bluing skies
Bleached heavy
Hanging washing
In winds that snap
Snow hides
Travelling east
Dark days creased
As branched reach
Fingering frigid air
Through the window
My land glides past
Cars and trucks
Running on Frak Juice
Dreaming about a solar hat
Attached to a cell phone
Charging ahead
The engines roar
An old black car
Three young dark haired
Curls free and eyes
Meet mine one second
Light from a Bic
Flashing in the rainbow disc
With the swooping curls
Written over a blue eye
They knew me
My lane rocketed by
Looking back in fog lights
Bumper packed

Authors of Catastrophe


Ride drafts
High pauses
Icy or savage
The heart pulses

Onwards questing
Small motions

Angels float
Into flight

Men fall

I will hold you
Like a prayer
Inside my mouth
Words ready
To set in motion
Ideas man-made
Melt in hot sun
Wax dripping

the last drums beat
The armies clash
Onto the bodies
Trying not to breathe
While devils cry
Unable to believe

On flaming candals
Below we run
Yet this flight from
Authors of catastrophe
It is without fear
It eats the darkness
Sound the chase
For Joy will flood
Everything broken
Will wash into beauty
It is victorious
Banking over storms
Shot through
Light meets light
Hunters horns will cease


Smoke Screen

I watched a bit of a news program with the typical talking heads and it gave me an idea.
1) Which religions believe being gay will send you to hell?
Have you ever heard of ‘conversion therapy’? Muslims did not invent that. You can argue that Muslims put gays to death for being gay but ignore the Christians that beat gay guys to death. Is thinking homosexuality is a sin ‘wrong thought?’ If it is ‘wrong thought’ then a heck of a lot more religions than Islam are ‘guilty.’
2) Which religions do not allow women to preach and teach the ‘Word.’
If you think it is only Islam you are wrong again. There are only certain ‘sects’ of Christianity that allow women preachers and teachers. Many expressions of religion are ‘women-free’ at the top. Check it it’s real.
3) Which religions bar women from running a country?
It isn’t Islam.
4) Which religions believe that killing a fetus is murder and that women should not have choice and there fore be ‘oppressed’? ONLY Islam?????
Fundamentalist Christianity is even more strict about that, in certain sects, than Islam!
5) Which religions believe in the death penalty?
Arguments about why it is applied aside, (see the ‘Genocide of the Americas’ and the topic of ‘Lynching’), what nations puts the most people to death with the death penalty? If you chose a Muslim nation *BZZZTTTT*
You’re wrong. China leads with America a close second.
6) Which religion oppresses women the most?
Actually the most repressive religion for women’s rights is not Islam. The most repressive religion is not even recognized as a religion although the masses worship at it’s altar as if it WERE a ‘god’. It is the religion that makes women turn to bulimia and anorexia. It is the religion that makes all the women at Fox News end up with enough plastic to die beautiful. It is the religion that causes young girls to use drugs and suicide if they can’t ever be ‘pretty and thin’ enough. It is the religion that breaks up marriages with pornography and whores and the much touted and fun ‘cheaters ping pong’ (he cheats I cheat he cheats I cheat he cheats I cheat…your serve?)
7) Which religion forces conversion?
They all have. Every single one of them. Long ago or right now. Ask Native Americans about the use of force in religion. Ask both the living and the dead. “Be what I am or die.” God and religion were never the reason for forced conversion HUMANS were the reason and are the reason for that. Personally I used to be friends with a young girl who had a hormone issue that caused her to look exactly like a guy…moustache and all just like a guy and she was a lesbian. She was invited to a local church sleep in where she was surrounded by over 50 screaming kids waving bibles at her and backing her in to a corner chanting, “You are going to HELL! You are going to HELL!” Everyone in these parts knows which church that is they are FAMOUS. She will hate Christianity all her life because of them.
The questions are endless and so are the answers but what it all boils down to is the idea of ‘wrong thought.’
If we are going to judge religions based on the idea of ‘wrong thought’ then we will have to eliminate ALL of them. They all have ‘wrong thought.’
The real debate is being smoke screened by red-herring ideas. Should we have freedom from religion or freedom to be whatever religion we please? If you are not free to be whatever you please are you still ‘free?’
This is where things seem to get complicated in the media but they really are not complicated at all. You see, what each of us THINKS is not the important thing. The important thing is what each of us DOES. A Hindu, A Jew, A Christian, A Buddhist, A Pagan and A Muslim all go to a coffee shop owned by an Atheist because they want coffee. They don’t care who is selling the coffee they just want coffee. The lady who owns the shop might think they are a bunch of religious nuts and they are all SURE that she, and each other, are all going to hell or going to fail at reaching Nirvana and have to end up several lives as rats and pigs but they have better things to do than argue about what each other is thinking. They have movies to talk about. They have jobs to go to. They have families to care for and if you look at Maslow’s famous Pyramid it hardly matters to the great masses of people, in the grand scheme of things, who is going to go to hell because they chose (fill in the blank) ________. We can’t base our opinions on what we think we know about what other people think. That makes about as much sense as pounding sand down a rat hole.

…………. Amuse Heaven (A short mini-fiction)

Once upon a time there was a girl who knew too much about guys. She thought it might be fun to find out things so she, and some of her friends, got together to make a test. They did this test many time in many forums over the years. One girl was the leader…I was one of the followers and the hypothesis of the experiment was that no men are faithful.

From Myspace to Tickle to Facebook the test stood through time.

It started as one girl who saw it as her mission to help other women by showing them what dogs their men were and then dumping the dogs. She was fascinating to watch in action! She would say,

“Get ready to see some pretty colours!”

I was always watching.

She had a real talent for breaking even the most holy of boofs (and some of their goofs too!) She was like Jimi Hendrix’s song ‘Bold As Love’…..(just ask the ‘Axis!’)

Now of course alot of people do naughty talk in private (until now when General Snowden told America “all their base belong to us”). But most of that naughty stuff stays private OR the people involved don’t CARE if they are private or not (but that is another subject) but this girl could make a priest talk nasty! Then she would email it to the bishop AND the archdiocese!

Talk about amazing!

I saw guys fall like ducks from the sky in season! Emails went out like mad to all boofs and goofs and soon EVERYONE in that circle was aware:

Even the most holy guys cheat….

(Since then I have found one or two exceptions but even the exceptions like non touchable naughty stuff)

Over time it became profiles that were ‘man traps’ and were sometimes turned on and off for effect as women who were curious about their husbands, (and/or boofs), went into profiles to check people up to see if they would be naughty with a ‘haughty hottie’…

Most all of them fell for the haughty hottie like mighty oaks…

This had the cumulative effect of making the women and girls behave like the men…and the men behave like the women…

…and that is how ‘metro-sexuals’ happened