Women frequently ask about the strange habits of men who use dating sites (Tinder, OK Cupid, Match, Bumble, etc.). There are countless incidences of men posting pictures on their profile that are questionable, to say the least–a topic I’ll explore at a later date. By far the question I get the most is: What’s up with the fish? You know the one, the guy holding a large fish that, presumably he has just caught, grinning and looking proud of himself.
If you ask men what this is about–and if they aren’t confused by the question–they may give a variety of answers: I want potential matches to know I’m a provider. That I can build fire and assemble bed. I am strong like bear. I love nature. That I love to be out on the water. I’m up for adventure. Look, I caught this big thing! I wrestled with this noble creature for hours, and though he was a worthy foe, I vowed that I would not quit; the beast would never get the better of me, I would vanquish it, or die trying, and here’s the proof of both the great struggle and my eventual victory. Or, fishing reminds me of times with my dad. He left for smokes when I was just a lad and never came back. I miss you daddy. I’m sorry I was bad and made you go away.
But these, along with the old “you shoulda seen the one that got away,” are merely fish tales. The fish in these pictures serve one purpose: as a proxy. A proxy much like the big pickup truck, jacked up and with huge-ass tires on it. That’s right, if you beat me to it and realized I’m talking about his penis, you put your finger right on the head of the matter. Which is nice, but I prefer you use the whole hand and work the shaft. The fish, much like the truck, is meant to make you imagine what he’s got going on downstairs. He wants you to see that particularly girthy fish he claims to have hauled out of the sea and think of his manhood. And like the truck, the fish is often a way of compensating for something less than impressive. Sorry, Glen, but you’re not fooling anyone. Honestly, I think we should all start waving to these dudes in their overcompensationmobiles with a signature salute: one pinky extended and wagged at them as they drive by and warm the atmosphere, dulce et decorum est.
So be cautious, ladies. Especially if you run into the guy above. Seriously, what is the message he’s sending with that hideous thing? That he’s got an equally hideous creature in his pants? It’s no accident the way he’s holding it. Is there a woman on Earth who sees that picture and says, “YES! That is the man of my dreams.” Because I can get you his number.
Ladies, I feel like what I’m saying here isn’t something you don’t already know. It’s like you hardly need me to explai–HEY! I just got the meaning of mansplaining. Good one!
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