Perplexing Nightmare of Flesh

A recent Google search just yielded unexpected gold. The string in question: "just because a guy likes to".

"It seems just because a guy likes to listen to songs by Utada Hikaru, Ayumi Hamasaki, and some other songs which are kind of girly SUDDENLY I'm gay? WTF?"
"Remember though just because a guy likes to go south, it doesn't necessarily mean he likes to 'go south'."
"Just because a guy likes to wear kitchen gloves and is obsessed with dolphins doesn't mean he's a friend of Judy, Damon Beres! GOD! Can't we just respect the porpoise's majesty while simultaneously waging war on dishpan hands?"

"Just because a guy likes to collect presidential memorabilia doesn't mean can't appreciate a lap dance"
"Just because some of us enjoy different things does not mean we're less responsible or mature than you."
"Just because a guy likes to wear wife beaters doesn't mean he's a jerk that beats his wife...does it???"

Actually, after looking at that haul, I kind of bummed myself out. Most results were gay jokes ... and I was searching for this specific phrase so I could construct a Twitter post like: "Just because a guy enters a committed, loving romantic relationship with another man doesn't make him a queer."

Rumbling Crescendo

Guh. Winter's here in Chicago. I guess it's technically fall, winter's timid little toady. Whenever the weather gets below fifty degrees my mind goes a little grungy. Perhaps I'm a bit more cold-blooded than I give myself credit for. It gets dark so early. It's hypocritical for me, a night person, to complain about the lack of sunlight, but it gets me rotten. The monotony of twilight and the sterility of cold. They remind me of hours spent waiting for buses or trains, swaddled to near-suffocation and still freezing my ass off.

Sorry, I'll probably be like this for the next four months. Let's bear it together.