Even if you were forced to use mens shower gel in the morning so that all through the day you get intoxicating whiffs of manliness. Even if you keep thinking of windswept beaches and white horses dashing through the foam with a handsome man in a white shirt (open of course) his hair flowing in slow motion as he gallops towards you. Even if you imagine a beautiful spring day laying on a perfect patterned picnic blanket as your English boyfriend reads you Poetry and feeds you strawberries as you curl your toes in perfect warm, lush grass. Even if you imagine yourself a man and realise actually you would be a pretty damn gorgeous one, because let’s face it, you’re already picking off random facial hair. Even if all these things combine as you lift your hand over your head to reach that tempting chocolate bar near the supermarket checkout and catch a smell of your oh so manly hand, it is never ok to slowly move your arm to your face and ever so subtly try to lick that scent from your elbow to your wrist. People stare.
I would make a fucking, awesome man though.