Mangina

“Maybe tomorrow. I don’t really feel like doing anything tonight.” ¶ Daniel leans his elbow into the locker and he lowers his head, leaning toward me. “You’re really being a mangina,” he says. “You didn’t even date the chick. Get the fuck over it and…”

No it's not "interesting" you stupid cocksucking mangina. It's not well known that men are more violent than women except inside the heads of mangina slugs like you and your feminist overlords. ¶ This mangina is presented with clear facts but, exhibiting clear evidence of feminist brainwashing, fails to let this intefere with his mentality and outlook.

Michael: Planet Earth, man. I mean, why do men make more money playing sports than women? It’s because we’re more athletic. Michael: What would you say if I told you it’s because of sexism? Michael: I'd say you’re a mangina. What’re you talking about? Just look at Olympic records.

Aside from the jacked up Slovak Corner, where Marek and his posse take turns tucking their dick and balls between their legs to see who has the best mangina, the pregame mood in the locker room is tense.

He resisted me every time I tried to fuck him. I think that’s what kept the passion alive. I loved pursuing him, and he loved controlling me with his mangina.

Hidden in the depths of every man’s rectum is a special nubbin of love about the size of a walnut—the prostate. It’s reached by similar methods to the G-spot on a woman, but in his mangina instead.

[…] a while back [insurance provider] sent me to the women’s clinic, which was pretty hilarious because when I got there, the clerk at the Pap smear clinic office told me that I was on the wrong floor and that this was the women’s clinic. Then, I had to explain to her that I was a trans man and I still had a “mangina”....I told my PCP about that.