text: Hello all! I wrote this little snippet of a diary, and perhaps you like it :) Now, I am a man, and thus I occasionally need to feel manly. I might not be very manly, but I need to feel that way some times. It is in my nature. Sometimes I drink beer. Sometimes I decide not to stray at the sight of a large dog. Sometimes I make sure a painting hangs perfectly level. In my latest attempt to unleash my testosteron on the world, I decided to refurbish a small cabinet that I own. Manly! I went to the hardware store. I bought the stuff the other manly man said I would need to feel manly. I payed the cashier. And I went back home to unleash all of my creative fury of the defenseless cabinet. Manly! Only one problem... So far the only way I ever fixed something was by replacing the batteries. Though I was sure I could do this. After all, what is the worst that could happen? I am a man, it is in my genes! I started to sand the cabinet. The hardware store man told me I needed to. I would never have thought of it, but real men share their conquests. Manly! It did not take me long to put a new leg on the cabinet but it was a struggle, it was a conquest. The old one had served me obediently for over fifteen years, but it had died, and his three friends were carrying his share or my burdens... but this new one... This little piece of shaped wood was resisting every step of the way, but I beat it into submission and it is now supporting my stuff. Manly! Time for primer! Who needs primer? According to the hardware store man, I do! I grabbed the brush. The big brush. I opened the primer. The white primer. I dipped my brush and I unleashed the Leorardo da Vinci in me. But this... This was not manly, because I lost. Layer one. It would be clear that I needed more layers. Layer two. If only that was enough. I was losing, but I did not give in. I am a man. Layer five arrived and the cover still wasn't there. I lost this battle. I needed reinforcements, thus I called the best person I know. The wisest person I know. The one person who has had the answers to every question in my life. My mom. I explained the dire situation. I explained my hopeless position. And she replied with the words only the wisest of mothers dare to share with their sons. Words that would turn even the Bible silent. "Did you stir the primer?" I was in awe. This wisdom. This knowledge. This experience. I was once again a man worthy of Valhalla. Of Sovngarde. Of Elysium. I stirred this primer as if it was the blood of demons. I dipped my brush as if it was a sword piercing a heart. I spread the paint as if I was repairing the walls of Minas Tirith. And I made my cabinet as white as Roman marble. This wise knowledge applied to the true paint as well, and I was once again in awe at my first devine creation. This creation made the mighty Ra so jealous, night dawned early. It made Odin cheer so loud, it will echo across the earth. And it even made Atlas squat our realm one more time to rival my Manliness. Thank you mother, for making me the man that I have become.