So I know there are tons of world changing events taking place like, Congress ruling the Affordable Health Care Act constitutional, and the uncontrollable fires occurring in Colorado.  However, this post isn’t even remotely similar.  No, today I’d like to talk about strippers.

And for the person currently reading this and rolling their eyes thinking, “Not another post about Magic Mike,” just stop reading now.

We’ve seen it all this month, the commercials, the billboards, the infamous e-cards.

I know many of you were praying for the same thing.

So behold, the weekend is only hours away and thousands of women will be mentally and physically preparing themselves for what they are about to encounter on the big screen.

So what’s the hype?

Well if you consider Matthew McConaughey, Channing Tatum, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Manganiello and Matt Bomer, nothing…then nothing!  But a large group of women (and homosexual men) will tell you it’s your one-stop-shop that includes buns AND steel, without the unnecessary calories, the oily mess, or the overpriced tab at Chippendales.  Yes!  It’s all that, and a bag of popcorn.

If more strippers looked like Channing Tatum, none of us would be scared.

But to tell you the truth, I am not even fond of real male strippers!  What most men will find unbelievable is that most women aren’t (granted there’s always an exception to the rule).

Call me boring, but there’s something really wrong about a man who hides his junk behind a satin thong, and then wiggles it right in your face.

I’m sorry, but weren’t you just peeing a minute ago?

But it goes beyond the incy-wincy underwear.  Most of the time these men have cleaner and better shaped eyebrows than the average woman, and it doesn’t stop there.  Their bodies are smothered with more baby oil than “The Situation,” which then gets you thinking about Jersey Shore, which  instantly grosses you out because now you’re thinking, “I wonder how many girls this guy has hooked up with at bachelorettes?”  All while this guy’s sack is still bouncing in front of your face.

Sure at one point you were probably amazed on how easily he grabbed, flipped you with one arm, and had you end up on all fours.   But at the end of the night you’re wondering, “What are the chances of a regular guy busting this move in bed?”  And if he did, you’d probably start questioning his night job.

So unless you are heavily intoxicated, the stripper experience usually involves a handful of girls trying to run to the nearest corner as if your life was in some kind of danger.

What it all comes down to is this…male strippers are like paintings, they are best enjoyed from afar.

So from about 18 rows away, alongside 7-10 other women, on Sunday I’ll be enjoying them on the big screen.  For once, I’m actually looking forward to the show.  I’ll do no fleeing of the scene; I won’t need to wear shorts underneath my sundress, and I won’t feel filthy.  And for once, I wish I could take Magic Mike home.