Women! Oy ve’!!! Who are you all really trying to impress with your two closets full of high-dollar clothes, 62 pairs of uncomfortable shoes and designer labels, anyhow?? Is it men? Or is it really each other?? I believe it to be the latter. I mean, come on! The common, everyday straight man couldn’t tell the difference between a ridiculously priced Prada purse and the average Hefty bag. And you know what? Both of the aforementioned items can carry the same 30lbs of useless shit you haul around with you. Both are also made by the same slave-laboring kid in Pakistan for $.37 and a handful of grain a day that make all of your other high-end fashion shit. Yet some of you hammerheads will gleefully spend $400 on a pair of “strappy heels” because your peer group thinks it fashionable. That and you think new shoes will draw people’s attention off of your sagging ass by jacking it up.

Has there ever been a bigger bunch of followers than women? Holy horse-shit! If Paris Hilton came on TV wearing that Hefty Bag made by the Somali kid, all you cows would run to your closet to find a pair of black pumps to go with your own Hefty bag. You numb-nuts let popular entertainment tell you what is fashionable, when fashion all along has been about the individual’s taste. Trendsetters are trendsetters because they don’t spend their time or money trying to surf the waves of conformity. They’ve risen above the assimilation.

And what’s up with your need to stay up-to-date with, and spend your future children’s college fund on what’s “in” today? It’s not going to be “in” tomorrow, and then you’ll have the spend a boatload more money on the next five-minute fashion, relegating yesterday’s bank-busting wardrobe to the back of the closet with all the shit from ten, fifteen and twenty minutes ago. The average woman could outfit the nation’s homeless out of her personal stash of clothes that can’t be worn anymore because they’re “out” of style. Give yourselves and more importantly, us, a break.

I know I’m not the first to say this, but could there be a bigger group of false advertisers in the world than women? We men know you’re not that tall (heels). We know your boobs are not that big or pert (under-wired, padded push-up, cleavage enhancing bras). We know you’re not that attractive when you get up in the morning (make-up). We really do know all of the little tricks you think are secrets, and to be quite honest, we could live without you thinking we’re fooled by the mock-up you apply everyday just to leave the house.

You should be insulted by some of the products you buy the improve yourself. Not for nothing, but doesn’t the very term “Miracle Bra” imply that your tits need a miracle? ‘Natural Color’ hair coloring kits? If your hair’s color has naturally faded to a gray or ‘silver’, then that’s now your natural color; its not ‘strawberry-blonde parfait’. Who the fuck ever had hair that color? If this product is to restore your natural color, does it change anything when you use it? What a scam, and you ladies eat up all the time in the name of staying young looking.

You want to stay young looking? Take better care of yourself. Turn off “American Idol” and get your spreading ass off the couch. Exercise a little to keep the hip-jello at bay. Don’t abuse yourself with tanning. Don’t smoke and drink like a truck-driving sorority girl well into your thirties or beyond. That McDonald’s and Crispy Kreme diet is not helping. Aging is not something you can stop; the more you do to try and cover it up, the more obvious it is. Take care of yourself if you want to retain youth; or at least fess up to being the jiggly, wrinkled, gravel-voiced, gutter-hag that you let yourself become.

You may not realize it, but you women caused the ‘one-night stand’ epidemic you’ve all claimed to be the ‘victim’ of over the years. When men take you home and get you unwrapped, gravity and lighting expose reality, revealing what you really look like under all those restraining clothes, make-up and hair spray. Lucky for you, we generally don’t notice your terminal case of dog-face or those pancake boobs on your over-tanned leather-chest until the 14 shots of Smirnoff wear off. Then, when the morning light hits your face and you look more like the mailman than the ‘8 ½’ we think we had taken home, of course we’re not going to call you back. If I wanted to date your Grandma, I’d have picked that bitch up instead. If it wasn’t for Victoria’s Secret, Covergirl and alcohol, you’d never get laid.

On a seemingly unrelated note: why in hell are you all so mean to each other? No single group can be as caddy as women. You’ll smile to each others faces as you’re mentally picking out which knife to use to stab each other in the back. You carry on this silent war between each other, most of which is based in your superficial fairyland of pretension and insecurity. You need to take the man’s approach and just get it out in the open. Have a fist-fight if you need to, but just stop the madness of carrying unspoken, meaningless grudges against each other; especially if you’re one of the people who will only talk a bunch of shit to the other herd-members when the target cow is not around, never letting them in on the fact that you have some whiny-ass problem, or giving them a chance to retort.

I believe this is how the term “pussy” got associated with people who are cowardly, weak or otherwise unmanly. It’s a direct reference to the way women deal with problems between women. Mooooooo!!!!!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 4th, 2007 at 4:07 am and is filed under WTF!. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.