I am so glad that I wasn't born female.
Before I permanently scuttle whatever slim chance exists of me still scoring, let me clarify. I'm the furthest thing from a sexist. In fact, I have no tolerance for those timid, submissive little wuss-chicks whose greatest aspiration in life is to stay home a pound out babies. By golly, any bitch o' mine has got to be at least as smart and as independent as I am! Perhaps that was an unfortunate choice of words, but you get the idea. That also partially explains why I haven't scored forever, since, in spite of all of the feminist dreaming, brainy, stable, strong-willed women are still in desperately short supply.
That, and I have no guts.
In the virtue of fairness, I must also add that there is an equally small proportion of intelligent, cool men whose brains are not in their nutsacks. Nevertheless, their stupidity normally doesn't affect me, since I'm not trying to score with them.
Nevertheless, I am really glad I wasn't born female. Heck, most of the women I talk to agree that chicks have a much tougher time in life then men.
One reason is the relative position women still have in society. Sure, things are probably better in the U.S. and possibly Canada than anywhere else in the world and at any time in history, but there's still progress to be made. (And no, crackhead, Europe is not more liberated. Only 9% of management positions in Germany, for example, are occupied by women, while in the U.S. that number is closer to 40%. Eat that, Eurotrash.) That's not really the reason, though. Heck, I get crap because of my arachnid pets, get cruelly labeled as "weird", and relegated to second-class citizenship. When I take over the country at the head of an arachnid army, they'll all be sorry…
That's not why I'm glad I'm not a woman. The real reason all comes down to biology. I'm a very low maintenance kind of guy. I clip my toenails when they're scratching the inside of my shoe. I consider shaving optional hygiene. Sure I shower, brush my teeth, and wipe my butt after a shit, but I only do that because the consequences are more of a pain in the ass (so to speak) than doing the task.
Along with high levels of estrogen, though, comes high maintenance. The biggest of which is that monthly hemorrhage known euphemistically menstruation. A very close second is the "joy" of pregnancy. Heck, even if women were the dominant gender and men where hopelessly enslaved, I'd call it a fair trade as long as I didn't have to worry about the crimson flow or pregnancy. As it is, I'm perfectly happy with the lower life expectancy. I'd say we got the long end of the stick on that one.
Speaking of such, do you know how they say women's menstrual cycles synchronize when they're in close contact? Well, THREE of my tarantulas molted the same night. Draw what conclusions you will from that, but I say it's proof of a psychic link between my arachnids that will better enable me to conquer the world.
Then comes all of the other sort-of-optional crap that women still do. Lipstick, foundation, and hair, oh my! You've also got to worry about eyelashes, high heels, pantyhose, G-strings, and shaving every single strand of hair that isn't attached to the cranium. If I was a woman, though, I kind of doubt that I would go nuts in the optional-crap area, since I've hardly ever been a fashion slave. I would probaby shave my legs and stuff, but I certainly wouldn't like it.
This train of thought just took a bizarre direction. I think I'll change the subject.
The thing that got me thinking about all this is the extreme muscular atrophy that seems to be symptomatic of estrogen poisoning. I was working out in our company's gym with a female co-worker. (She's married, Mom, so don't even bring it up.) I was appalled when she couldn't even bench 40 pounds! I'm certainly no muscle guy, but I can lift the whole rack a couple of times! Granted, that would be more impressive if the whole stack wasn't a mere 250 lbs, but it's certainly more than 40! Christopher Reeves can bench more than that! One of my friends said that his girlfriend couldn't even lift the bar! I suppose it came as a shock since I'm used to being the weakling in the gym, or maybe it was how a grown human can be so physically weak. Either way, I'm glad that I can open my own peanut butter jars.
If I were born a woman, I'd probably just be a lesbian anyway. I hope that I'd still like tarantulas.
