Any male human attempting to strum original tracks from his solo album by the campfire deserves a good Blutarsky-ing, but there’s just something about a confident herd-ditching sheep pulling the same move under moonlight that the ladies can’t get enough of and the men are helpless to prevent. I think it has something to do with being simultaneously sensitive and dangerous.
Here’s to you, pudgy afro guy. For yours is sure to be a lonely evening of companion-less sleeping bags and cracking open Corona Lights for one.
(This post has been sponsored by Corona Light.)