These days men can't just be stone-crushing, elephant-lifting, six-pack having babe magnets. Now you have to have an amazing job, 401K, be a great father, and manscape. It's not easy anymore. The days of good looks and pure muscle strength are over, boys. It's the big time now.
But how does one truly know how much of a man he is?
Well boys, it depends on what kind of hair metal you blasted out of your Trans Am, Yugo, Mustang, or Vette back in the '80s...
Yes, that's the real deciding factor.
If you blasted "High Enough" out of your car windows, you're sort of a wuss. You can't help yourself. You've got a weak upper body and most likely, fart too much in front of women. You're every lady's best guy friend but none of them will sleep with you. It sucks to be you, kid.
"Here I Go Again" and "Is This Love" on your favorite tunes list? Did you love the model Tawny Kitaen as she humped on top of cars? You're a loner type who probably works in the IT field and makes a good salary, but you're too shy and modest to pull one over on the ladies. You're a diamond in the rough, but you're so hidden no one knows about you. You're the easiest to beat in arm wrestling, and you can't hold a beer for squat.
If your favorite song was "Fallen Angel" or "Talk Dirty to Me," you're probably really pretty and have amazing muscles, but your brain is mush. Girls loved you when you were younger but now these women have aged and you don't have a ton of earning potential because well, you're not all that bright, kiddo. So you do what most shallow and "not-so-bright" insecure guys do when they get older: you lift weights and comb your hair the right way, and show off your abs in dating profiles. Women can't stand you, but you can crush two stones with one hand.
You're were a good boy, drawn to the Christian glam metal of Stryper. Now, you're balding, but really affable and well-known. You have a great job. All the girls who turned you down because you were slightly chubby are now kicking themselves because they're single or married to jerks. You are however, a bit of a fetish fiend and hide behind your good morals "face," which is super annoying. You're terrible at home repairs but your salary hides this fact, so you tell people you did the landscaping and put up the crown molding in your house. Of course, you definitely didn't.
You had "Night Songs" on repeatedly, which drove your parents nuts. You're totally weak in the muscle department, but you're super-hot with some kitschy job that damaged women really dig. You're not a jerk or cocky, and people like you because you're sort of weird and charming.
No one liked you then and no one likes you now. You're a jerk, that's why. You make a ton of money, are in great shape, and love yourself more than anyone possibly could. You've divorced already twice, and you collect wives and girlfriends like they're remote controlled cars. Your man factor is zero. Actually, your humanity factor is zip.
"Dr. Feelgood" and "Too Fast for Love" were your jams, son! You are the baddest of the bad boys and did rehab about three times, bordering on a fourth, but your latest flavor decided to let you get clean at her place. You're rail thin and not that attractive, nor do you have a job, period, but women love you. Most men think you're a total sh*t show which you are, but in your crowd of "people" the men wonder how you manage to live off the ladies without getting dumped... too fast. You're slimy in a nutshell and a disgrace to men, but you could care less.
The prettiest of them all, you wouldn't break a sweat to replace a lightbulb. You work in upper management and you have an MBA and only eat raw or vegan-approved foods. You thought Sebastian Bach was the man, and you're so proud you've surpassed him in amazingness! You know you're great and so does everyone else, you condescending little jerk.