Why I will joyfully slap really dumb women every chance I get.

That Does It!

Just when I thought women the world over were making headway on having an outside chance of being taken seriously, I find they’re not worth the fabric their fashionable frocks are printed on.

Now, I’m all for woman the world over standing up for themselves and voicing their opinions on everything from politics to permaculture. After all, I’m a woman. I just need to lay that out there in case you missed it before starting to read and thought this was just one more misogynist rant written by some tragic male virgin living in his parents’ basement.

True, I do have some mannish characteristics and I was invited to my brother-in-law’s bachelor weekend as an ‘honorary bloke, (hugely flattered). Nevertheless, last time I looked I definitely had two ‘X’ chromosomes.

Now, normally I’m not over exposed to the kind of female foolery I recently became embroiled in. Largely because I’ve chosen a ‘career’ which keeps me shackled indoors, face pressed to my PC monitor with raging myopia and an insatiable caffeine and munchies addiction.

But something happened yesterday that brought a raft of similar experiences to a head and led me to junk two major constants in my life… and it’s entirely the fault of dumb women. Oh, they’ll pay, just wait.

‘Junking’ the verb, suggests action so now I’m doubly angry because suddenly I have to do stuff that wasn’t on my already burgeoning ‘to do list’. However as a result of the inanity of the dumbness I witnessed that evening I have now pledged:

• I will cut off all my hair and auction off one of my ‘X’ chromosomes.
• In between, I will joyfully (and forcibly) slap really dumb women every chance I get.

You see, yesterday I’d been set on a night out in one of those gorgeous bistros. You know with the comfy but elegant surroundings, elegant but adorable food and adorable but strictly off-limits hunky Italian waiters — I’m married after all.

Once I’d finally torn myself from yet another deathly spreadsheet, stressed my hair into some kind of style and actually made it out the front door, It was an easy choice…

“That’s it, that one”. Not too chic, not pricey and not too full. And more importantly, on my doorstep.

The clientèle looked pretty decent, not too shabby by a long way, mostly a few huddles of smart looking women and a couple of guys at the bar. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Not decent! Not decent at all!

Next time, I’m going to choose the bar stool next to the old guy with the Stetson and the hookers.

Girls, you so let me down!

And I’d always been the one to champion us — before. Not any more, not after yesterday evening and, afterwards when I thought about it, not after all the other hideous occasions I’d buried in my subconscious out of misplaced loyalty to womankind.

Now women will have to go it alone, without my help — well actually that’s not true because of course I have pledged to slap* some sense into them… hard.

*I would just add that this act will not actually be borne out of any desire to help them see the error of their ways but solely to prove to everyone present that I entirely disapprove of everything that came out of their stupid, painted doll-like mouths — everything.

You know what all those women did? Loudly? Unashamedly? In public?

They bitched about pretty much every aspect of their partner and their relationship!

That’s what they did. Seriously, bad mouthing their men! Screaming about their male traits as if these had been cultivated purely to get on their perky, wonderbra’d tits. Citing the oldest, tiredest, dustiest clichéd nonsense about anything and everything he did or didn’t do.

Bad mouthing their guy and their relationship, and in public. That’s not pretty.

You know what, that’s plain ugly: Ugly thinking, ugly behavior, ugly relationships… ugly girl.

SLAP!

Amongst their capricious carping, these women were perpetuating the ridiculous, damaging myth that boys and girls were born to fight. They were so blinkered by the female versus male versus female scenario that they were blindly missing the point that they and their behavior was way more the cause.

They’d so bought into the whole battle of the sexes bullshit that they truly, believed that the only way to ‘protect oneself in a relationship’ is ‘to come out on top’! Well, unless we’re talking about getting hot and sweaty under the covers, these women had got it so, so wrong.

They’re going down hard (no pun intended) like a supermodel in Christian Louboutin spikes — catwalk style!

Oh yeah. And I bet you a chunk of money, they’ll be back there in a matter of months, maybe a year, screaming about divorce and child support.

And I altruistically gave away my get out of jail free card which I am so going to need once I start out on my resolution to slap the dumbness out of women like this — I’m not entirely convinced that ‘acting in gender defense’ is going to wash. Damn!

But you know I don’t hate any of them for it. U huh. I don’t hate them, despite the fact that it makes my blood boil and my teeth itch even now if I think about how they behaved, how badly they let us decent girls down.

Because it’s not their fault, totally not. Ironically, they’re the real victims in all of it because not only are all their relationships, present and future, trashed by their thoughtless thoughts and subsequent, associated actions, but almost worst yet, they look damn shabby throughout it all.

You see, there’s a basic rule of the universe that states what you think about in life is basically what you get and what you get in life is basically down to what you think.

Jim Carrey put it much better:

“I really believe in the philosophy that you create your own universe. I’m just trying to create a good one for myself.” — Jim Carrey

And these women were doing the opposite. They were creating their own ugly universe of fights, recriminations and breakups.

Now they might come right back at me and say that it is the reality, so let’s break this down…

1. If your man is such a worm that you feel the need to bad mouth him in public, then what the hell are you doing sticking with him? Ditch him honey and go find someone who deserves you.

2. If your man isn’t a cheating, lying, lazy loafer then why the hell are you calling him one? Because if that’s the case, then he ought to be leaving you.

Come on girls, have more pride!

If your man really is a jerk, leave him. But if he isn’t then show some god-damn loyalty and stand up for him.

“You give loyalty, you’ll get it back. You give love, you’ll get it back.” — Tommy Lasorda

And don’t you dare feed me that it’s so hard to find a decent man in this city you’ve got to put up with what you can get crap.

For one, that is just the same tired bullshit. Remember you get what you think about in this life and frankly you (and your man) deserve more.

The real bluebottle in the cupcake though is that every day many girls aid and abet each other in trashing their relationships, their men and thus their chances of ever being loved. And worse still, they egg each other on.

It’s called girl-talk, bonding, ‘helping out’, comforting your girlfriends with relationship issues. You probably do it too. You probably do it out of habit, out of frustration, out of being one of the girls, BUT, and I truly mean this, you do it out of pure innocent, ignorance because that’s what you’ve been told, shown and experienced.

Look, don’t unintentionally gossip and bitch yourself into being another statistical breakup. If you’ve got challenges in your relationship, talk about them to each other, not your girlfriends. And especially not in public.

Or keep on going with this bitching and bimbo bellyaching and I won’t have to slap you at all — life will turn around and do it for me.

SLAP!

And then maybe all those dumb women will finally shut the hell up and I can get on with enjoying my night out.

Communication is everything in great relationships at play, at home or at work, so grab my free cheat sheet: 5 Guilt Free Ways To Say NO