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Josh "Louie" Anderson

  Rant: Women

  By: Louie


Women. Yeah…women. Pretty much all of my readers are males (not you, Courtney), so we all know the perils and tribulations associated with the female species. I say species, because, well, I don’t think women are human. Either that, or males aren’t human. While we share many similar physical characteristics, I share physical characteristics with your average seahorse, so that really isn’t the best way to determine similarity. Female humans think, act, reason, and smell differently than males of the same species. For this reason, I don’t believe that men and women are in the same species, genus, or kingdom.

I could never be a woman. My brain simply does not function in the same way. My primary reasoning behind this is anecdotes. The ability to tell a short but interesting story related to events in one’s life. I am not good at this. If someone asks me what I did last night, I’ll tell them “I went to the store. Then I drew a comic. Then I went to sleep. The usual.” This is the extent of my storytelling abilities. Females, on the other hand, have the uncanny ability to turn minor events into an epic take of romance, adventure, excitement (Jedi craves not these things), and battles of dynast-tic proportions. Clancy, Gibson, and Chrichton have never been able to portray the epic conflicts between good and evil that your average female is able to insert into tales about their everyday lives. This is especially true if the story involves other females.

I won’t repeat a story that a female associate of mine and Abe’s related to us earlier today (I won’t repeat it because I don’t remember it; I don’t remember it because I wasn’t paying attention), but let me assure you, it contained all the common harbingers of the female anecdote. The girl telling the story is always….always, always, always, the victim of whatever wrongdoings might have been inflicted upon her person. ALWAYS. Never suggest to a girl that she is to blame for anything. But regardless, the female telling the story is the hero, and the antagonistic girl is always…well…the “bitch.” Or “slut.” Or both. You never know. The female telling the story is always the victim of oppression, but she is quite capable. She will fight the antagonistic female if necessary. “You know I would.” And of course, the antagonistic female would certainly not win, because she is just “some scrawny little ho” (she is always scrawny, even if she has previously been accused of being fat). I wish I was making these phrases up. And I’m not even going to get into how long they hold grudges. My watch will stop working before a woman will give up a grudge.

Well, that’s all for now folks. I’ll have the second part done eventually. But for now though, courage.