Before any of you whip off some nasty notes about how I am a misogynistic son of a bitch, remember this, I love women. I've been with them since before I was born, I am currently surrounded by them and there will probably be a bunch of them at my funeral. This is supposed to be a humorous piece. If you just can't handle that kind of humor, maybe you should seek entertainment elsewhere.
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Now, all you men out there know that I don't know all about women. Nobody does. After seventy years of close association with these mysterious animals, I thought I might write down some of my observations. I'm not trying to educate anyone. If you find some similarities in your dealing with women that is because, world wide, they are all trained the same way or maybe they're just wired the same way. The relationship between men and women is symbiotic. Once one of them has latched on to you, she's got you for as long as she wants you.
My association with women started before I was born. I spent a nice, long, peaceful time in a warm fluid inside a warm body. This was the last peace I would ever experience with a woman. Suddenly, I was squirted out into the harshness of the cold world. There were bright lights. People were looking at me. It was distressing so I cried and cried. Then, a warm titty full of milk was shoved in my mouth and I happily sucked away on it for the next year.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. One day there was no more warm titty. It was replaced with a bottle of milk that wasn't nearly as good as what came out of the titty. They fed me foul, tasteless stuff from a jar. It was awful but I was in no position to gripe about it. I was a captive. I really missed my titties. It was another year before I found out that my mother was an excellent cook. As is usual with young boys, I had a voracious appetite and would devour damn near anything that was put in front of me.
Speaking of food, I noticed as soon as I started dating that girls weren't ever hungry. Whenever I took one to a restaurant, she would kind of pick at her food, not eating very much of it. I found out much later, after I was married, that women have an appetite that is equal to, if not greater than a man's. Many are the times I have watched my wife gobble up quantities of food that would cause a logger to blush. Thinking back over these experiences, I have concluded that the shy, demure, picky eater was all a ruse to make us think they'd be low maintenance. Hah!
As long as we are discussing things alimentary, let's consider farts. Men and boys, one and all are proud of their farting expertise. The louder it is and the more it smells, the better the fart. Young women, on the other hand, would rather eat a pot of dried spiders than fart in the presence of anyone, especially their boyfriends. Almost all of them carry some kind of anti-gas concoction to ease them through the evening. All that changes about the fifth year of marriage. Suddenly one day, she'll moon you just before her shower while she is nude. At the maximum moon angle, she'll produce a loud, noxious cloud of gas that would kill most terrestrial creatures and then she'll laugh about it. Many men are shocked. I know I was. When we were dating, I knew she farted but it never smelled or made a sound. How did I know she had done it? A light wind would hit me between the eyes, that's how!
Most men believe that women are shy, demure, sexually naΓ―ve creatures because they are physically weaker than men. My experience has been that they know much more about sex than we do, can be totally aggressive and are not afraid to instruct us as we blunder our way through the sexual relationship. Don't ever get the idea that you tracked your mate down, cornered her and then seduced her. If she hadn't been stalking you for a long period of time you never, I say again, never would have gotten into her pants. She set you up and at the appropriate moment, plucked you like a ripe apple. Women are very crafty animals and although it may appear to us poor, dumb males that they do things in a totally illogical manner, there is method to their madness. The purpose of the subterfuge? They need some big, strong oaf to work for them and give them babies when they are ready for them.