The Male Nipple

STEVE: The male nipple: proof of the divine, or further evidence that we are unloved, unwanted, and abandoned in a listless, yet pointless universe?

Good evening. I’m best ignored until I go away, and welcome to The Nightly Chill.

Tweak them or rub them, there is no denying the undeniably baseless opinion that the male nipple is not only ugly, formless, and, quite frankly, dull and tacky, but also evidence that the matriarchy has ensured that only the female breastual is alluring or devilishly naughty enough to slap, twist, or nurple in private or at parties.

Professor Jiggle Nippleson of the Moronikan University for Halfwits once wrote in his book, “I’m a Lobster, You’re a Lobsters, How’s About We All Get Naked Up in My Hottub?” that, and I quote, “The male nipple is the last bastion of liberty and reason in a world gone mad with perverse notions of equality, love, and understanding.”

And therefore, my contemporary crustaceans, we must rise from the depths of our tanks, seize our nipples by the claw, and revolt against the female mammary militia that dare deny our teats their deserved day in the sun.

I’m late for a self-inflicted lobotomy, and this has been A Complete Waste of Time.