Thursday, January 31, 2008
If you are the more squeamish type, or if you hate women, you may stop reading here.
This post is for all women, who may be able to relate. It is also for any man that has ever met or befriended a woman, or is presently married to one. Without being too technical or descriptive, and by being as vague as I possibly can, let me say that there is a time when a woman whom you know, someone you typically revere as the most kind and compassionate person you thought possible, is capable of killing you with her bare hands. This is a natural phenomenon that is only disputed by people who hate women, people incapable of experiencing empathy (sociopaths), or women who are in fact robots. It is at this time that rationality and logic do not even come into consideration, and it is in general not a good time to be f*cked with. If a woman was ever to walk out in front of a moving vehicle just to prove a point, this is when it is most likely to occur (I did this yesterday. I think I made my point, owner of the blue Hummer on Causeway St.). Why does this happen? Because this is the period of time when certain organs, organs which have never before presented a noticeable problem or had much to say for themselves, rebel and attempt to escape from your body by brute force. It is this predicament that leads many women to have ice cream for dinner, along with the carton it came in. Most life-altering decisions that I have rashly made, as well as a good number of the nervous breakdowns experienced, were themselves a direct or indirect result. It is in general not a good idea to operate heavy firearms during this time. If I have alienated or made you uncomfortable by reading this post, well, tough luck. But at least now you know that even I am human, though you thought that kind of perfection was not humanly possible, and am affected by things other than fall television line-ups. And I'm sorry for yelling at you until you started crying.