Cats and Dogs; Mars and Venus; and all that good shit.

When a girl’s feeling a natural hatred for men, for no reason, whatsoever (guys, listen; this is a halfway decent insight involving our bodily fluids), it is really for no reason we women can define.

Girls, you can relate. We just shut down, subconsciously, toward men, and cannot explain why. I’m going to try to tear down the walls of PMS for all of us. First of all, it is just as frustrating for women to deal with ourselves, as it is for men to deal with us. You’re floundering, splashing;  looking for the shores of sanity, and you don’t know why. You accidentally alienate nearly everyone that you love, and you have random girls who have synchronized periods (somehow) and unwittingly form the She-Man Boy-Haters’ Club. I don’t care what sex you are; you know what I mean. The Chocolate comes out and the penises go running for the nearest pub. I capitalized it for a reason, by the way…

We women know that we can have sex at any given time, but we were given the egg timer. A nine-month, full-o-consequences-out-the-wazoo, crazy, batshit egg-timer…so, we really can’t have sex any time (or with anyone) we want to. Gentleman (and I use the term loosely…as you can guess the crimson Muse for this particular rant) have to drain bank accounts just to get laid. I understand. We’re the same, but not quite. Bad credit does not quite equal a human being. Oh, but now, we women have the right to choose, so we can just flush it like a belly-up fish; right? Nah. It’s not exactly the same, but close enough that I don’t hate men, at this time every 28 days, or so, I hate me, for not really giving men the credit of having depth and feelings, until recently. 

We women like to think we corner the market on compassion, beauty, and empathy; when; in fact, men have it in spades. Straight men have been pre-conditioned for centuries not to talk about it, but it’s there, shimmering under a flimsy surface of fleeting, but standstill bravado. Gay men let it fly in the wind like a rainbow flag, sometimes. But everyone, everywhere, has his/her own personal story. And, individuals are worthwhile causes, as they go. Don’t just judge a soul by its face. Imagine and reveal what’s behind the facade.