I’d have to say that machismo has a distinct smell. It’s hard to describe. There’s pre-pubescent machismo sitting right in front of me. It’s bragging about how it’s girlfriend gives it blow jobs. It’s disturbing, really.
Regular machismo smells like old spice, some form of alcoholic beverage(including, of course the vomit that usually follows), and greasy hair all mixed together. Pre-pubescent is different. Pre-pubescent machismo smells a little like old spice, but mostly like those tree air-fresheners they put in cars.
It’s bizarre to watch young machismo as thoughts of sex dance in it’s head. It starts talking more rapidly and has short bursts of laughter (I don’t want to this story to turn into a short burst joke, so we’re not going to let that thought cross our minds.)
The worst is aged machismo teaching young machismo. It is frightening, but you can’t look away as the aged tells the young’n the secret to women. Of course it's usually always wrong.
I don’t feel feminine as I am forced to watch this display, even though I should in comparison. All I can do is thank God that I wasn’t born male.
