What is a real man?

Hell, THERE'S a question that's been going 'round as long as men and women have noticed each other's differences. But Mrs. du Toit has her own take on it posted.

Maybe one day I'll write my own little essay on what makes a "real man". But for now, I'm going to post the lyrics to a song that I've been grooving on since I heard it in South Carolina: Brad Paisley's "I'm Still a Guy".

When you see a deer you see Bambi
And I see antlers up on the wall
When you see a lake you think picnic
And I see a large-mouth up under that log
You're probably thinking that you're going to change me
In some ways well maybe you might
Scrub me down, dress me up but no matter what
I'm still a guy

When you see a priceless French painting
I see a drunk, naked girl
You think that riding a wild bull sounds crazy
And I'd like to give it a whirl
Well love makes a man do some things he ain't proud of
And in a weak moment I might
walk your sissy dog, hold your purse at the mall
But remember, I'm still a guy

I'll pour out my heart
Hold your hand in the car
Write a love song that makes you cry
Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground
'Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

I can hear you now talking to your friends
Saying, "Yeah girls he's come a long way"
From dragging his knuckles and carrying a club
And building a fire in a cave

But when you say a backrub means only a backrub
Then you swat my hand when I try
Well, what can I say at the end of the day
Honey, I'm still a guy

I'll pour out my heart
Hold your hand in the car
Write a love song that makes you cry
Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground
'Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

These days there's dudes getting facials
Manicured, waxed and botoxed
With deep spray-on tans and creamy lotiony hands
You can't grip a tacklebox

With all of these men lining up to get neutered
It's hip now to be feminized
I don't highlight my hair
I've still got a pair
Yeah honey, I'm still a guy

Oh my eyebrows ain't plucked
There's a gun in my truck
Oh thank God, I'm still a guy

In my opinion, "real men" don't get manicures. Those things on your hands? They're called calluses. You get them from real work. Or from golfing without gloves. Which is still OK in my book.

By the way, I'm still trying to find an MP3 of this song that I can send to the Ragin' Mrs. Anyone out there who wants to share it, drop me a line via email.