SPIT LIKE A MAN, YA CISSY!!!

Finally figured out how to spit like a man today. You know how these macho guys ooze attitude just through the banal act of spitting? In the middle of a conversation, they'll just nonchalantly turn away for a moment, clear their throats, fashionably contort their faces... and spit. A gleeful and stylish spit. And while the crowd is still held in awe, he resumes the conversation without the slightes hint of pretension.

Prior to this evening, I have never been able to master the technique. I've asked around for instructions, but was never able to convert theoretical knowledge to practice. When I spit, I usually create a mess. First of all, I emit this hediously dry and empty sound when I clear my throat. And when I spit, the flam and saliva (and whatever bits of food left in my mouth from the previous meal) ejects from my lips in a spray-like fashion instead of the textbook bullet-like form. And on bad days, there's the additional embarrasment of my anointing my t-shirt and jeans with stray spit. Not to mention the excess spit which would line my lips, causing a shiny glimmer at certain slants of light. In short, I spit like a cissy. Due to this inherent deficiency, I seldom spit in public. I swallow (yes.. the secret's out.. I swallow.. any takers?.. hahaha!).

So that's one avenue not available to me from which I can assert my manhood. To make up for that, I scratch my butt a lot. That's another act of manhood assertion. "I scratch my butt... for I am Man!!!". So in times of low self-esteem and when I feel my masculinity is placed in question, I proffer my hand (usually left) to my posterior, extend my fingers and scratch. All in one felt swoop. And as the itch subsides, my masculinity swells (no sexual connotations intended here). The more people who see it, the better. Go ahead and call me pathetic. But when you have wrists as dainty as mine, you have to cover up and go through such measures just to assert your manliness. And I do it all the time. By way of illustration, here's an anecdote:

"It was midnight and I was alone in my hostel room. Seeing that I had nothing to occupy me for the rest of the night, I proceeded to watch the movie I am Sam from my laptop. The movie moved me to tears, causing a slight discomfort in my concience, having laughed at male friends who cry at movies countless times before. Feeling a bit unnerved by this psychological threat to my masculinity, I scratched my rear end even in the absence of any substantial form of itch. Knowing that I still had the ability to scratch my buttocks, I was better able to sleep that night knowing that I was still as much a man as I was before the movie."

Now back to spitting. I was malingering outside my house this evening having a fag after break fast. Feeling a slight discomfort in my throat, I cleared it. A growling, manly sound. "Good sign", I thought. Then it came. I spat. A bullet-like spit. And I got good projection and mileage on it, too. I was then engulfed by this almost perverse sense of fulfilment. The secret is to use the space between your upper teeth and upper lip as the launching pad. All this while, I have been using the lower portion. Damn those buggers for keeping this from me all this while.

And now, ladies and gentelmen, I can scratch my butt less.

I believe that a round of applause is in order.