Flawed Hypothesis
What in God’s many names was I thinking?! Less than two months ago, I must’ve been completely mentally intoxicated since I took a good fifteen minutes to type in and justify the fact that I was starting to be lenient toward men. I must’ve been literally trapped in some temporary fuzzy feeling of…forgiveness. It was one unattractive fata morgana oozing wistful notions out of my head. Even my lover stated, “She’s forgiving men!?” Oh, Lord Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Mary Mother of God, Abraham, Mohammad, and all dwellers of the Heavens, knock a raindrop of sense to this piece of mortality!
Whatever relaxing stroll I took on that sunny afternoon …Christ, whatever giggles occupied my mouth; it was such a gigantic false assumption. Absolutely bogus and uncalled for! Call me emotionally undignified, teen puberty addict, or internally handicapped, it doesn’t matter. (I don’t listen to people’s name callings on me anyway).
Umm…but really now, it’s been bothering me at every sunburned strand of my hair. Even my left wenus gets itchy thinking about it.
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Of all the creatures on this planet, men are the only ones who voluntarily read abusive materials telling them they are stupid, useless, cruel, impotent, crummy parents, terrible partners, and the list walks on. Oh, I guess that’s what differentiates the human male with the
Caribbean reef squid let’s say. They don’t read books and articles discussing them being one-sided mind and biologically irrelevant. In fact, men have already noticed their eviction from this planet as it is no longer anybody’s secret that the Y chromosome is deteriorating faster than the Wicked Witch of the West. There are predictions that close to 100,000 years from now that men will just need a few semen slaves to milk and that a woman can handle the rest from reproduction to refinancing on their own. Yes, the female is THAT superb.
But I guess the question whether men are biologically necessary for the future is something secondary. It’s not that men are nonessentials to our ecosystem for that matter, but that men just suck big time. Forget men being responsible for the Pyramids, the Magna Carta, brown sugar, the Renaissance, the goddamn iPod, motion pictures, the Louvre, that 1969 (was it?) landing on the moon, Starry Night, Disney World, theory of relativity, and the Great Wall of China. After all that, men still suck. They are ignorant, bad dressers, mean, insensitive, heart breakers, low class liars, two timing cheaters, selfish and love to invade places like Iraq because they f***ing feel like it. They constantly claim they’re the best you could ever have. (What is it with false advertising?) They can’t admit their wrongdoings until you throw something at them and even then, they’ll admit just to shut you up. They want you to look like Salma Hayek while turning Sponge Bob on you before your next birthday. Add to that, they can also forget your birthday.
Really, the whole world is just better off without them.
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There. That was an entry I submitted to this very blog less than two months ago. Yet, I denied such fact. The wildest idea formed inside my head and I said to myself, “Okay, boys, I forgive you for being who you are. I forgive all of you for turning out the way your mother never wished for even a second. I forgive you and will give you another chance. Many more chances in fact. We’ll catch a flick. We’ll eat my favorite chips out of the same bowl. We’ll go shopping together and guess what? You get to carry my bags. Yaaaay!! We’ll sit in one room, hey how about one couch? I absolutely trust you. We’ll drink off the same cup and lick off the same spoon. We’ll go out dining and spend hours discussing EU politics, sports, presently accredited motion pictures,
Asia ’s economical emergence, interracial marriages, or current literary masterpieces. Whatever. You name it. I’ll be the greatest conversational partner you’ll ever meet! We’ll go clubbing. Don’t forget to be nice and let the next alpha male cut in. Buy me a drink and I’ll buy yours. And we’ll both end the night on our own bed hugging our own bolsters. We’ll be best friends forever and you don’t have to ever discover which part of my body needs Gillette. Oh, here comes the best part! You get to meet my lover and have a chit chat with him too! He’s such a nice guy. So what’s the deal, boys?”
(Sigh) It would take a miracle for me to not make a fuss over the way so many
Adams have left their moronic footprints at my doorstep. And I’m afraid I can’t and don’t wish to manufacture a miracle. So, one last time. What in God’s many names was I thinking?!
