I feel I have already addressed your point, when I stated:

Ah, but I do indeed judge you, Mr. Neverender/pretender. I married a nice, strong, manly rancher and do indeed depend on him, and his man skills to both teach my kids how a real man acts, how to fix our equipment, how to take balls off, and my daughter can take you down. Not a dependent, not quite. We try to cover all our bases, from world travel to gutting elk for the freezer. You are a sham sort of want to be tough. I own tough, I run cattle. You are a cute, maybe, little city kitty. We would find you, in our world, just hoping that your pretentious version of real man could actually load a mean bull into the chute. Don’t try it, you’ll find some real man skills out of your pretty little league. Proceed with caution, my ass…

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