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We are the Tasteless Gentlemen
We are not merely four men voicing our opinions of the world and the idiots which comprise it. We are the voices of men the world over. Men who have traversed the battlefield of love and life and returned harder (insert infantile chuckle here), better, faster, and stronger. We are the balls of men who have long since consigned their own genitals to wives, fiances, and girlfriends. We are the jerks you love to hate... and love to love. Why? Because we are men with hearts of gold and balls of steel. Balls hardened by the trials and tribulations of innumerable encounters with the fairer sex. ("Fairer," please...) And while we've clashed swords and genitals with many a maiden, we've somehow managed to retain the delicate sensibilities of the innocence and naivete of our youth. A time when girls were nothing more than objects of our affections and desires, and boobs were only something we watched late at night on scrambled channels in our parents' living rooms. It was an age when we believed women were to be admired, respected, and pursued. And we acted accordingly, and perhaps even got laid a few times in the process. But reality quickly set in, and we soon learned these dainty damsels were by no means so deserving of admiration, respect, or pursuit. They were evil beings, capable of ripping our respective hearts out of our rectums.
And so the chivalrous turned chiva"less", and respect became something earned, not given. Our pursuits became our passions, not the desires of an era long forgotten. And the girls we once admired learned to admire the hardened (insert another infantile chuckle here) men we'd become. Because it was they who made us. It was they who took the hearts on our sleeves and buried them in our respective crotches.
We are all gentlemen at heart... our hearts merely reside in a different location in this day and age. And this, my friends, makes us the Tasteless Gentlemen.
