So here’s the thing: Everybody knows that I’m not really a man, or at least a real man. Anatomically speaking, yes I’m male, but let’s face it, I’m not a man. I was reminded of this last night when I rented a movie from Red Box. (ha ha, red box) The movie I rented isn’t really important for this story because it’s the previews for the movie that got me. I cried at the preview of a youth football movie, yup, didn’t even need to watch the actual movie and I was crying. It’s times like this that I realize my beard isn’t fooling anybody, I’m a little girl. I’m a little girl trapped inside a fat man.