On Behalf of My Wife… F*ck You.

How our story begins…

Reader Beware: I am not normally an overly crass individual. However, my cup of wrath overfloweth. It overfloweth with profanity.

Disclaimer: This is in no way a critique of Mulligan Brothers Motivation. They rock.

“Don’t feed the troll. Don’t feed the troll. Don’t feed the tr-… Nah. Fuck it.”

On a single day, my wife has more “beast” in the tip of the nail of her daintiest finger than you, I, or any other male will accumulate in all of our born years. You’ve “never met or even seen a woman with the beast within”? Fuck you. You’ve met them. You’ve seen them. They’re fucking ALL AROUND you. You just don’t recognize them for the same reason that you decided to post your dumbass opinion instead of just fucking off with it like a gentleman: Your own lack of “the beast”.

At 19, my wife was married (to me), pregnant (to me; by choice), and giving birth in the eighth month of her pregnancy due to baby deciding he’d come early. No biggie, right? Except she had no pain meds. You’ve never seen “the beast” in a woman? The beast within my wife tore at her own arm with her teeth to kill the pain she was enduring for the sake of a person she’d never met. Right or wrong, she’d decided to take the drug-free road in childbirth and endure the agony. She didn’t want anything coming between her and her child. Not even painkillers. She wanted pure, unadulterated connection.

“The beast” chose to do this because she knew, even past the birth, that children cause pain, and she would need that mother/child connection to sustain her. And so the blood dripped from the beast’s teeth. So, fuck you. Scientifically, females have a pain threshold that is nine times higher than males. Who but a beast would need that, dipshit? Fuck you.

You’ve never seen “the beast” in a woman? When that premature baby was waking up, literally 15 times a night, the beast was tending to her child, while I slept blissfully. And fuck you, because this wasn’t just a few weeks of poor sleeping. This went on for years. Years! Oh, but she got to sleep during the day, right? No. Fuck you. During the day, the baby was awake. Who cared for him? The beast. No leisurely four-hour gym sessions for her to harden the beast within.

Oh! But, let’s rewind here. This isn’t even when the beast was forged. Fuck you. For six months of her pregnancy, she was vomiting. Yes, night and day. I mean, seriously fuck you. She couldn’t keep anything down. The most bland, tasteless food you’d ever lower yourself to eat, she couldn’t hold down. Fuck you. Over and over again. Fuck you. Thirty to 40 times per day, and no reprieve at night.

But at least she felt fine after throwing up, right? No. Fuck you. She was nauseated. Now, I’ll assume you’ve experienced this part of “beast training” after one of your many nights of binge-drinking to make yourself feel better about not being able to see all the veins in your arms, even though you pound protein shakes like a weak cellmate after lights-out. Except, I don’t think it really counts, because fuck you. One is in the pursuit of the creation of life, and the other is in pursuit of a soothed ego. Sorry, not sorry. Fuck you.

You talk about evolution, and how “beasting” is a hunter-gatherer thing? Except, even if that’s true, you’d have to include females in that group. Check your science textbook from 5th grade, hombre. The “hunter-gatherer” label isn’t exclusive to men. And since we’re talking about evolution, wouldn’t it then be wise to look at all the other examples in nature that completely contradict your dumb-fuck statement?

The obvious ones are lions. Who does most of the hunting? The females. Who turns up late for dinner, swaggering like a beast, but giving no indication that he is, in fact, a “beast”? Oh, that’s right. Your dumb ass. Fuck you. Nature is filled with such dominant female examples that fly in the face of your senseless comments.

“I want breakfast!”

I’m not even going to comment on the response you got about how opposites attract; it’s just so riddled with dumb-fuckery, I can’t bring myself to do it. However, I’ll borrow some terminology: submissive, and passive.

Women, the true beasts of the world, are submissive and passive. This is correct. They passively submit to the workload, because men are too busy strutting and roaring to actually lend a fucking hand. Read The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf, dumb fuck, and you’ll have a slight grasp on how much women actually do, while you’re scratching yourself in between sets that you hope will make you look “the beast”. Fuck you. (Seriously, I dare you to read The Beauty Myth. Be careful. Lots of words in it.)

My fingers are tingling. It’s difficult for me to think straight because you’ve so offended me. But I’ll close with this. The title of this missive begins, “On behalf of my wife…” Why? Because she’s honestly too classy to descend to this level of conversation. She is also too motivated creating an incredible life to bother wasting time responding. Beasts don’t concern themselves with non-beasts.

I, the male, on the other hand, will take the torch. Because, every day, I learn how to be more of a beast by watching her.

Oh, and fuck you.