Now, I’m just going to fess up to something. Pay close attention because what I’m about to tell you is something that will change the entire world. Yes, I’ve drunk a bottle of booze. That’s what brought me to this decision. I’m going to be the one man, and I say man because as you will see, that’s important. I’m am going to be the one man to tell the truth because I am tired of shouldering the responsibility of war and destruction. From time immemorial women have been complaining about our war making ways. They view us as hardly much better than baboons going out into the field with sticks and stones beating the crap out of each other. Well, I’m going to tell you women something. Now prepare yourselves because this is going to shake you to the core. The ONLY reason we start wars is because we are jealous of your periods! There, I’ve said it. One of the greatest secrets of human kind! You women get to bleed every month and what do we get? Well we don’t get to bleed that’s for sure! I’ll bet you never thought of that! Every month we get to hear about your bleeding and how your tummy hurts. We hear graphic descriptions of pain and utterances such as, “I’m going to have it ALL ripped out!” How do you think it feels to be laying there in bed reading about Cathy and Heathcliff, all comfortable with a skin full of booze coursing through your body and then someone next to you says, “Goddamn, there’s knives in my gut. Can’t I rip all this out?!” Well I’m here to tell you that a man is not going to take that lying down. How do you think it feels to know that someone nearby is having their guts ripped out and you’re just lying there feeling like a warm pie on a window sill? It feels horrible! What we think is this: “Goddamn it, I want MY guts ripped out too!” And the only way to get your guts ripped out is to rip someone else’s guts out. And when you rip someone else’s guts out they want to rip your guts out. And so on. The next thing you know there’s a war sputtering into being on the horizon and soon we’re all ripping each other guts out! I know you’re just going to find this to be unbelievable but there is nothing better than to be lying out in some field of mud with your guts ripped out. It’s like you lying there thinking: “If only she could see me now! God damn it! My guts are ripped out! Anything she can do I can do better!” So, I’ll admit this. On the surface it sounds vaguely sexist in the sense that we feel that we have to outperform you in the guts war. But really it’s not sexist at all. Think about it! We are simply trying to imitate you. We want to BE like you. Is that not a compliment? But now I’ve saddled womenkind with a heavy burden. So be it. Fair is fair! I will probably be killed by tomorrow morning for revealing this ancient secret. I won’t despair. I’ve revealed my feminine side! I will have my guts ripped out.
By the way. I just noticed as I wrote the last word above, some dude sitting a few tables over. He looked like a real bad ass boxer or something with big hairy arms . He was sitting up straight and tough and then his girlfriend came in and walked up next to him. He sort of put one arm around her waist and hugged her. Then all the sudden his whole body sagged and his arm dropped to the side of the chair as if he’d been full of air and someone took out a couple liters. I could tell that she’d just said something like, “Let’s just stop at Urban Outfitters for a minute.” It’s a very recognizable posture collapse.
