The Three Bills

Being the foremost North American expert on Iranian cinema, I felt it was necessary for me to review the recent release The 300. Beyond the overall "ass picnic" feel of the film (not mine, but another reviewer's term), the movie made me feel inspired. I felt like I could take on impossible odds... and die afterwards.

It also made me frightfully aware of a new trend in masculinity: male body dismorphic disorder. That's right, guys chasing that "perfect six-pack". I say, we need to stop this before we become women. The gut is one of the few endearing traits that make us men. After 25 (sometimes earlier), our metabolism slows considerably, and we develop this cute roundness at our midsection. It's like the moustache: only older men can pull this off.

I for one would feel more comfortable with a PBR, a cigar, and a nice episode of Good Times or Barney Miller than to be fighting for space in front of the mirror and feeling bad for myself. I think Vince Vaughn and Orson Welles would agree with me.

Now of course, I don't have that aforementioned gut. I look more like the dudes in The 300. But I knew someone that was sporting a bit of a spare tire, and I thought I'd go to him to get some insight. It's our own Matty the Mainer.

"I don't know what to tell you, dude."

"Well, how often do you go to the gym to get that gut?"

"The gym? Are you serious?"

"C'mon man, what's the secret to getting a good belly? I tried the PBR, but it's not working."

"You're fucking with me, right?"

I was at a loss. I guess I would never be a real man. I left him in the living room so I could admire my six-pack in the mirror. It needed work...