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Monday, June 4, 2012

A woman's place is in the kitchen.

Yes, because that's where the knives are kept. Its also where you keep a supply of gas and a stove. And I suppose as Rapunzel has recently shown us, heavy cookery, especially frying pans, can pack a good punch too.

A good punch is what some men deserve to receive in the gonads.


These are the same men that claim women cannot complain about guys that hurt them, because they themselves are the idiots that have fallen for the "bad boys", the asshole guys, and have overlooked the other guys (those with sore gonads) that for long have loved them from afar. The same bastards that think a woman should be able to cook, clean, maintain an hourglass figure, and give a good blowjob. Preferably all at the same time.

But that is not all! A woman can NEVER EVER earn more, drive better, be more handy with a toolbox/gearbox, or be smarter than him in any area that he might feel threatened by being inferior in comparison.

So basically, they want a dumb blonde with a huge rack. Male chauvinist pigs.

_


Like I've mentioned in my previous post, I've been on an unproductive study break. I've watched 15 movies in 5 days (more specifically 14 movies in 4 days), and as such, my brain has been filled with gooey boy-meets-girl nonsense. Yes, I am very non-experimental with my movie picks and choose only to watch happy, feel-good flicks. Before you shake your head and call me uncultured, its because I believe movies are a source of entertainment that should relax you, not stress you out.

But anyway, I feel like I'm living vicariously through the leading characters' love lives, because I have none of my own to speak of. When I posed this grouse to a friend, he went "why not just go out and get a boyfriend dammit!"

Why not indeed. The good ones are either taken, in love, or gay. The remainders are either assholes as explained above, or completely ineligible.


Maybe its because I have standards. I like smart, confident (this alone rules out all the shallow, insecure assholes), kind-hearted guys that will take me on when I want to debate on nonsensical issues, that will tolerate my endless droning, make me feel safe and secure, and still want to give me little happy surprises. I mean yes, I do have shallow requirements too: tall, masculine, good-looking (or at least not ugly) etc; but that all ceases in importance with time.

In short, I suppose I have realised that literally every single one of my closest friends are taken. Like, they are all in happy, long-term, stable relationships. And while I am genuinely happy for them all, they have eventually taken their toll on me, and I currently feel like an unwanted brat sometimes during outings.

What I do commend myself on however, is that I have not lowered my standards one bit. If anything, I have raised them, in the hope that my future beau will treat me at least as well as how my friends are treating their partners. In the meantime though, I still remain very much single and very much a bright, squeaky third wheel.

The very thought makes me feel bored and depressed. I suppose I'll go hunt in the kitchen now for a little snack.

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