Why Men Ought to be Kinder to Women

No one went up to you in fifth grade and told you that you were going to bleed once a month for pretty much the rest of your life.

And no one told you that once the bleeding finally stops, you’re going to age like mad, get heat flashes, mood swings, adult acne, unwanted hair growth, and all manner of unwanted things.

We have to take the pill every day, at the same time, or get a shot in the ass, or stick an IUD up yonder. You get to put on a condom.

If you’re an athlete from childhood, you get toned and gain the popularity points in high school and college, as well as have the chance to gloat about it later in life. If we’re trained in athletics from childhood, our womanly maturity gets delayed and we get no boobs with make you like us less.

You stay unmarried, you’re the lucky bachelor who’s too loved by the ladies to commit yourself to just one. We stay unmarried, we’re obviously damaged in some way, or else a guy would’ve asked by now.

You sleep around, you’re a playboy and applauded. We sleep around, we’re sluts and deemed not worthy.

You eat like a pig, it’s expected. We eat like a pig, and we’re tut-tutted by the media for not caring enough about our bodies.

You get all the good jokes.

Hello peeing standing up.

You make a bawdy joke, you get chuckles and slaps on the back. We tell a dirty joke and the awkward throat clearings begin.

You’re lonely, you get strip clubs. We get Bridget Jones and trashy romance novels.

When was the last time YOU got groped on the subway or at the office Christmas party?

You don’t have to buy make-up. One bottle of cologne will last you at least a year, and that plus decent duds and a studly haircut will keep you knee deep in phone numbers.

You get stately when you get older. Gray hair lends you character. It makes us look old and decrepit.

Bet your first time didn’t lead to pain and bleeding on your part, eh?

And finally:

You get to have an orgasm. We get to have 40 weeks of mood swings, food cravings, doctors putting hands in all sorts of places, people gawking at our bellies, brand new wardrobes, morning sickness, swollen ankles, and then the joyous moment of pushing something the size of a pot-roast out of a slit about as big as our thumb.

(Note: Samantha is not a raging feminist, however she was angry with the male population this morning and decided her list may be amusing to others. Enjoy. =])