When I was a child my father had to teach me the proper way for a man to cross his legs. I crossed them, he said, like a broad. The same went for the way I looked at my nails, I held my fingers out, stretched apart, under close scrutiny. In high school I was the product of my generation and, like most teenage boys, wore bitch pants and sometimes, just sometimes, red fingernail polish. I like to believe that most of those rather queer style choices are in the past, though sometimes I still catch myself crossing my legslike a broad and there is always a pair of bitch pants in my closet waiting to be brought back out to the light but for the most part, I have rid myself of those questionable characterstics that did nothing but raise eyebrows. One, however, still and always will remain: my guilty pleasure in music. I enjoy the sort of music that only women should listen to and sometimes only the kind of women who have just had their hearts broken. I listen to it and, if no one is around, I sing to it. These are ten of my favorite songs which no man should own.
