Before going into battle and taking the lives of their enemies, the Māori aborigines of New Zealand would try to intimidate the opposition by displaying their brute strength and savagery. They didn’t hold up and show off the decapitated heads of those that had already fallen victim to their spears in combat or bathe in the bloodshed of the previously defeated. No, these ruthless killers would psyche themselves up for mass slaughter and mentally terrorizing their foe through the same reliable method time and time again.
These big swinging dicks would dance.
Somehow, over the years, this expression of sheer masculinity and power has since been misinterpreted as limp-wristed weakness. Rhythmless toolsheds stand in the corner of bars around the country with their drinks in one hand and their tuna can shaped packages in the other — with an unwarranted sense of superiority — and pass down judgement on any guy that spreads his wings and lets it fly on the dance floor. These envious, insecure, castrated, try-hards banded together at some point in the 20th century and wrongfully changed public perception on the matter because the inhibition-less, smooth-moving casanovas were crushing too much puss. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise; real dudes cut rug.
Whether it’s a fraternity formal, wedding, or just a normal Thursday night out at the bars, there’s one way to assert your dominance and exhibit that you’re the most alpha motherfucker in the venue, and that’s to get after it and bring down the house with carefree, confident footwork. Now, I’m not talking about some choreographed “I finger pop my asshole nightly” number you practice in the mirror at home for hours. I’m referring to the off-the-dome, impromptu, flow-through-your-soul groove that organically comes from being four well liquor drinks deep. If that just happens to be the same move you’ve perfected and used since junior high, every time, so be it. Work with whatever you’ve got.
Nothing turns on a woman quite like the sight of an untamed wild stallion skullfucking life, both figuratively and literally. The gyration acts as a mating call. Ladies simply can’t resist fluid tempo-ed hips. It’s just in their DNA, their primal wiring. Why waste your time talking with that hospitality management sophomore about how “grueling” of a schedule she has balancing her twelve credit hours with her sorority when dancing is the easiest ice breaker in the game and requires no pointless small talk.
Conversing with her like a normal civilized human being the entire time? That gets you a number or maybe a handjob at night’s end. Tops. Bumping and grinding without ever saying a word? You’re making out and publicly getting tugged off within the first twenty minutes if you play your cards right. Dancing is just the sexual super highway that fast tracks you to the final destination rather than going from red light to red light, stuck in a sea of backed-up traffic.
So dance like the whole world is watching, my friends. Take center stage, whip out your massive metaphoric hog, let your ironclad balls drag on the ground, and let it ride..