The Male Population

"He may have hair upon his chest, but sister, so has Lassie." ~from Kiss Me, Kate

And in one sentence, this profound truth about men is summarized. A man can seem to be a total badass. Unfortunately, its usually the ones that seem the most badass that have the biggest pussies. If you like pussies, be a lesbian. They'll show you up in a crying fest, they'll make your emotions seem petty and your drama trivial in comparison to theirs.

All men are assholes. Even when they're not being assholes, they're being assholes. And the ones that seem like they're NOT assholes are just working really hard not to be. Don't be shocked when they lapse.

Women are perfectly justified in their rageful condemnation of the male population. Because every man can figure out what words to say to turn you into putty in his hands. Then he will fuck you and be on his merry way.

Are they really that smart, you wonder? Can a man really read me so well that he knows exactly how to flatter me and melt my heart? And am I that gullible? No, to all. They are rarely that smart. Its just a natural predisposition in their genetic makeup to know how to get sex. They're too stupid to figure us out.

"You sound like a fanatical feminist," you may say. Dismiss it as feminism. Any man worth his salt will openly admit that all men are assholes. And I will openly admit that the same projections can be made on women. Just exchange the word "asshole" for "bitch".

The girls who deny that men are assholes are simply in the grip of one. The girls who are smart enough find one that falls into the category of "working hard not to be assholes". THey tolerate the guy's lapses because he's worth sticking it out for, for the rest of the time when he's that better version of himself.

I reiterate. The same can be said of men who put up with monthly PMS, the tide, the waning moon, or whatever else it is that makes us women neurotic, obsessive, controlling, and needy. But, "if you can't handle me at my worst you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best", in the words of Marilyn Monroe.

And if you're like me, and you believe men are like parking spaces (all the good ones are taken and only the handicapped ones are left) then you will resign yourself to becoming an old maid, in a house with a picket fence full of rescued cats. You will tell your stories of passionate love making and broken hearts to the neighborhood children while feeding them milk and homemade chocolate chip cookies, because you're just that much of a paradox.