Prude Father Bemoans Flesh at Predators Game



By the Laws of Testosterone, a man is required to ogle and make wolf sounds when seeing pictures like the one above. So it has been, so it is written.

But a strange thing happens when you become a father, especially when said children are girls. Instead of the pure joy of lust and animal noises, you suddenly see young women not as objects of desire, but something you're supposed to watch over and protect. Like a steak or a lamb.

So I'm at the Predators game Saturday night and what do I see? The above damsels skating out to shovel the ice during TV timeouts. I was highly offended, if not outraged and demanding an apology.

As traditional hockey fans know, this job is supposed to be held by a man named Hank who wears coveralls and does sheetrock on the side. It is not supposed to be held by exhibitionists wearing enough product to require an environmental impact statement. It says so in the Bible. You could look it up.

So I think to myself, "Self, why they gotta put babes on the ice at the hockey game? Shouldn't there be at least one place free, where a man isn't taunted by nubile young flesh, which makes you feel like you're supposed to be stabbing someone, but you're not quite sure who?"

Then I turn to my buddy, who shall remain unnamed (Caleb Hannan). He's ogling these women like Marsha Blackburn with the latest edition of Guns & Ammo. He drooled on my shoe.

Okay, so sex sells, and I understand the Predators desire to draw fans. Judging by the ample stretches of empty seats, they can use the help.

But don't they care about the prude father demographic? And what about Hank? You don't really think he can make a living remodeling friends' basements, do you?

It's a damn travesty is what it is.


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