Truly, are we so different from the beasts whose world we have intruded? The free-willed bipeds saunter about with their critical thinking and haughty existential philosophies looking down upon the crawling, slithering and unwashed colonies of phyla- and giggle at their undomesticated cacophony that they consider life.
But every so often, we devolve into those filthy dirt-barren creatures and bare our true selves to the world.
One would presume that we have garnered enough knowledge unto which we could learn what not to do and how not to do it. Yet, our baser instincts are powerful weapons that cause us to act in ways that we so despair over.
With words being being perceived as weapons of the Marxist bourgeoisie, man must make concerted efforts to charm and court the fairer sex without fear that the tête-à-tête ruins the chances that evolutionary and biological imperative become impossible.
Ryan Arcidiacono has chosen poorly. Lauren Holtkamp-Sterling is not impressed at his interpretive dance of the Mandrill. While his buttocks might be firm, his gallantry is not. Such buccaneering mischief is objectively senescent, and the consequences of such actions are the removal of both your Christian name and soul from the annals of time.
Perhaps it all falls to the ever-old nature versus nurture debate. Or perhaps this is just how Italians in Philadelphia walk. Either way, the ostensible lesson learned is: When in doubt -- go loins first.