Most of the time, when I blog at Times and Seasons, I find myself stuck in the role of peacemaker. Take, for example, my last post regarding feminism as a zero-sum game. I had to negotiate carefully between the feminazis that frequent my blog, and the more conservative men that comment regularly.
Well, I’ve had enough. So, it’s only appropriate that I just come right out and say it: I hate women.
That may sound a little shocking, coming from me; but it’s true. I just can’t stand them. I mean, I’m married to one, and I guess that’s OK, but it’s mostly for tax purposes and the satisfaction of my bear-like animal lust. But talking to Mardell? No, thanks. I’d rather read a good book, like this or this. Or play Xbox. Xbox rules. At least the computerized forms of women obey my commands!
I just don’t like how women keep talking all the time. Yammer, yammer, yammer. And how they think they know everything. How dull. Listen, chicas, I’m a big-time lawyer at an excellent firm, and soon I’ll be a law professor — do you really think you can talk to me about civil liberties or equality? Do you think I care about your inferior points of view? Forget it. My chia pet has better ideas. Although, I confess, a chia pet doesn’t have a smokin’ body.
This is the point on which I am conflicted, you see. Perhaps the men out there can give me some advice. How can you satiate the burning sexual drives within, and yet avoid social interaction? This is where I’ve gone wrong. Only too late do I realize that sex is a river of fire that must be banked and cooled by a hundred restraints if it is not to consume in chaos both the individual and the group. Now I am stuck in a pattern of conciliation and submission to females, and I see no way out. I thought that starting a relationship with someone else — like Kristine, for example (she is HOT!) — would give me the diversion I need, but alas, it is not meant to be. Only the fact of my superior intellect and awesome priesthood authority remind me of my duty to rise above these instincts of the natural man.
So, there you have it. What should I do now, men? Wait — do any men read BCC? Maybe I should have posted at Millennial Star.