Today, I was rather productive in one of my hellish lectures. No, I don't mean I actually listened and took notes, God forbid, I wrote a list of things I'm going to blog about and at the top of that list was: MEN! So, here we go! (Don't worry, women, I have a lot to say about you, too!) This will ultimately centre around men's attitudes to women, methinks, as this is an area I have a lot of experience with.
Perhaps a little disclaimer, Leah? Before you start flinging your biased opinions left right and centre without thinking "Hang on... Some MEN might read this!"? Fine, jeez... I am writing from my own encounters with men, and understand that they do not represent the entirety of the female species. Just the majority. I also understand that not all men are the same. Just most of them are. So, let the possibly lesbian-but-ultimately-feminist literal ball bashing, begin!
Because the male half of the human species has not only an X Chromosome, but also a Y one (how thoroughly thrilling for you, gents) they also got a hideous dangling thing between their legs, making a man rather similar in appearance to his unique chromosome (he wishes!) and is quite clearly a sign that the Y chromosome is still bellowing from the deep recesses of the DNA strand "Hey, remember me and all I did for you? Well, he's a memorial statue of me and I can't think of a better place to put it than between your legs!" Even though for many men it could have looked quite nice on the display cabinet that is their forehead. This hideous ol' Y chromosome also gave them an undeserved sense of self-worth, a superiority complex and an inability to supply blood to more than one of their two heads at once. But maybe that's being too mean? Meh. I'm a very mean person.
From what I have experienced and seen, men are severely simple creatures, thinking mainly with the head that only has seemingly one goal in mind - Imma get laaaaaaaaaaaid! Naturally, they was they go about it is similar to the way an infant child eyes that massive and painfully expensive cuddly Eeyore in the Disney store - "if it looks big and pretty then I want it, and I'm going to bother everyone around me in a most annoying and loud until I do get it" Apart from it seems that with the male brain this is edited slightly to "If it's got a cracking arse/pair of tits/pair of legs then I most certainly would like to put my knob in it!"
What baffles me the most is that it's almost like men believe that if they yell at a well-endowed woman as she wanders past that she's got massive breasts, that she's going to look down at her own chest and realise that the thing she has been missing in her life so far is obviously not a massive pair of tits, but a man who can state the obvious and shower her with such delightful compliments, and with that she will throw her handbag and all its contents to the wind and fling her hand down his pants faster than you can say "What's your name?" Message to men: IT DOESN'T WORK!!!
Just this morning as I was wandering to uni I was hit with a good example - 5 'men' crammed in to what I deemed on first appearances to be a Hotwheels car only slightly enlarged to accommodate their fat heads, who proceeded to honk the horn of their car at least 700 times while crying out, and I quote *ahem*: "I like yer tits, love! Give us yer number!" "Hey, you ain't got a bad arse either!" "I right fancy yer!" and my personal favourite "With tits like that only a man like me could make yer happy!" Charming. My reaction to this was not to throw my handbag at a woman walking her dog and run in to the path of their car, but it was, shockingly enough, to laugh uproariously and speed off, 'tits' obviously bouncing around angrily. Of course, that reaction was only after the initial heart attack and pants-shitting of having a horn screech at you several times in quick succession had worn off and I'd worked out what was going on.
I have large breasts? NO WAAAAAAY! I'd always wondered what these hugely expensive, back-breakingly painful, enormously heavy lumps of fat were on the front of my chest. Yelling things at women just makes you look stupid, and playing 'guess the bra size" or saying that you'd like a girl's bra, but it would look better on your bedroom floor will just end with a girl flinging a bucket of chicken at your car and assaulting you with salt sachets.
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