... but your girlfriend is batshit cray-zay. Seriously. I’m sick and tired of the craziness women are pulling these days. I am a woman. I have a vag. I am the weaker sex. I don’t mind being barefoot and pregnant. I’d rather meet my man at the door with a martini than work eighty hours a week. All you ugly feminists need to stop fucking up my good thing. The more pyscho you get, the more disservice you do our gender. Here’s a list of shit women need to stop doing... ASAP:
Ta-ta for now!
- Women complain, nag, and harass men to death. I don’t believe in the philosophy, “If he ever hits me, I will leave his ass.” With all your bitching and moaning, you were probably asking for it. Situational appropriateness.
- Yeah, you need to get a job, but don’t go mental when you don’t make as much as the guy across the hall from you. Last I heard men were the bread winners for the past 6,000+ years, so you bitches got some catching up to do before you start complaining. Or do like me, get majorly educated, and make bank working only two days a week.
- He’s gonna watch porn. Or lie about watching porn. You’re gonna read porn. Get over it.
- It has been proven that women will hesitate to pull the trigger on a gun ... even when absolutely necessary. No breasts on the battlefield, thank you very much. I prefer my wars straight up -- with buff military men kicking ass and taking names.
- The military turns the majority of chicks into pregnant whores. When the USS Enterprise went co-ed it got nicknamed “The Love Boat” for a reason. Deployed ships are notorious for having prostitutes or for having women get knocked up just to stay stateside. Here’s a hint: you can whore yourself without infecting my military with the newest STD craze.
- Yes, I pulled a stint in the Navy for two years. I was married and pregnant within a year. The thought of shooting a missile at people horrified me. I got out, got divorced, and moved on. I’m proof positive that women shouldn’t be in the military.
- Women got the right to vote and then what did they do? They took all the damn booze away. That should have been enough to revoke their rights.
- Yeah, I know by saying this that I would lose my right to vote; however, I would gladly give up my vote to keep some pansy-assed, bleeding-heart chick with a tiny dog in her purse from casting a vote because it “feels good” or “feels right.” Start voting with your brain instead of your ovaries.
- I can’t tell you how many times I have heard a guy say, “Well, I gotta ask my wife first.” What? Does she have your balls in a jar on top of her dresser? Now I’m not talking big stuff, I’m talking small change. For example, C and I were having a party and brought out the four-wheelers. We asked our thirty-something-year-old friend if he wanted to try it out. What did he reply? “Hold on, let me ask my wife.” He ran into the house with his dick tucked between his legs and came back a short while later exclaiming, “She said yes!” Fuck me. I was embarrassed for him.
- Since when do stay-at-home-moms and -wives get to control the bank account? It doesn’t make sense. I know plenty of chicks that don’t work that control all the money their significant others bring into the house. I know one stay-at-home-mom that put her husband on an allowance. An allowance out of his paycheck. An allowance. Like a fucking little kid.
- This is easily fixed. The person who makes the money is in charge of the money. Give the dependent an allowance. Turnabout’s fair play, right? Problem solved.
- Have a two-income family? Kudos! That means you should have separate bank accounts. This doesn’t mean you don’t trust each other, it means you are trusting each other enough to be financially responsible. C and I NEVER mix money and guess what? We’ve never been in a fight about money. Problem solved.
- Sigh ... I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard things like, “My man isn't romantic enough!” or “My man doesn’t buy me nice things!” or “My man is horrible in the sack!” Every time I hear comments like these I come back with my own. “Well, C took me on a surprise getaway!” or “C got me diamonds for no reason whatsoever!” or “C is the best lover I ever had!” Half the shit I say isn’t even true, but I ain’t ever gonna badmouth my guy to some gossiping little girl. If you can’t stand your guy so much, get the fuck out. Oh, that’s right. If you left, who would give him his allowance?
- You crazy girls also need to get off the phone. Here’s a newsflash: 99% of your female friends can’t be trusted with your secrets. If you tell some “good friend” that your husband gave you crabs, guess what? She’s gonna hang up that phone and call everyone she knows and tell them that your man gave you crabs. Shit, if you called me up and told me your husband gave you crabs, I would probably make some calls, too. Hell, I’d probably blog about it. Just kidding ... ?
Ta-ta for now!