God, you guys are so gender-normative. For the last time, this is not a “man purse”. This is a garbage bag that I’ve held onto for years while tramping on the Transcontinental Railroad.

A guy can’t even haul around a an extra-large hefty bag filled to the brim with dirty jeans and framed photographs of family he hasn’t seen in years without receiving some snide comment that he’s “like a girl”. Seriously, grow up already.

Think about it. Women are allowed a nice, tidy bag to hold their phone, wallet, makeup, and whatever else. Men, meanwhile, are expected to keep their phone, wallet, maps of the Transcontinental Railroad, bricks, wood, and other raw materials for building encampments on the side of the Transcontinental Railroad, PCP, and black market jumbo packs of canned tomatoes in their pockets. It’s ridiculous.


You know who doesn’t call my garbage bag a man purse? The family of maggots that has burrowed its way into my garbage bag/not man purse. Nor has Staple-Mouth Steve. He’s a fellow tramper I met in northern Arizona. He stapled his mouth shut back in ’94. Good guy. Doesn’t judge. Also doesn’t talk. Because of the staples.

Side note. You guys wanna buy some canned tomatoes?

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