If a woman were to be expressed in fullness she would take up all the breadth of the national library and still have several thousand floppy disks left over

Suitable to match, I suppose the floppy remarks and Toms, Dicks and Harrys she leaves behind her on her journeys and leftovers are often a sad meal indeed

And this is not to deny the rights and feelings of that supposedly endangered creature, the white cis man, far to the contrary

For much of what was written about this woman was written by them, for them, commentated and notated upon by them

You see a woman is not allowed to explain herself to others, not really

She must explain then have herself mansplained, examined and re-explained by someone more qualified than her to do the job

As if you could make someone ‘more qualified’ simply by adding some facial hair and changing their pronouns

Does testosterone really improve one’s opinions that much? If so I wonder where I can get some of this magic brain juice

There is one, and only one place where a woman’s remarks about herself are to be heard and valued

It’s in a man’s bedroom, although this privilege is not universal and seems to be ignored at convenient times to the man in question

If however, a woman chooses at that time to say the words “bite me”

All of a sudden she expresses her self succinctly and well

If only we could make the sentence “stop biting me” carry the same impact

Any thoughts, gentlemen?