I was a superstar athlete. I could leg press more than twice my bodyweight. I've fathered a child. I have hair in my armpits, and even some on my chest. I like mowing lawns. I like gadgets and remote controls. When I cry, which only ever happens when I sense that somebody has spilled beer* or thrown away a piece of pizza, I don't cry normal salt water tears. Pure testosterone drips from my eyes.

In spite of all this, my manliness was questioned this morning, when I revealed that I had never eaten beef jerky.

No wait, let me clarify. I thought I had eaten beef jerky, but apparently, Slim-Jims don't count. That's like "saying you can dance because you can do the Electric Slide."

Well I'll be damned if I was going let this reputation hang over my head. So after work, I picked up the boy, and went to the store. I went to the beef jerky section, and I looked long and hard at the choices. I finally decided on Pemmican, mainly because of the manly looking Native American fellow on the bag. And because it was the farthest in the section away from the Slim-Jims. I grabbed a big bag for me, and then grabbed a little bag for the boy. I'm trying to raise him to be a man, after all. On my way to the registers, I laughed at a guy buying a Slim-Jim. "They don't sell bras here, pal," I said. Then I high-fived my boy and moved on.

I didn't want to waste any time, so I started eating some as soon as I got in the car. By the time I got home, I finished chewing that first piece. I can't lie, it wasn't bad. Beef jerky flavor was overwhelming my mouth. But the best part wasn't the taste. The best part was that I could feel my facial hair growing with each chew. I had already given the boy some of his too, and I could already see the difference in him. His voice was a little deeper when he said "daddy," and he scratched his crotch. Atta boy.

So while those guys might have been right about the effects of jerky, my new extra manliness won't allow me to admit it to their faces. In fact, I dare them to question my manliness again, particularly now that I have a goatee. Now pardon me, I'm off to the strip club.