Screw where babies come from. I’d rather hear where all those fuzzy, cutesy men come from!
Are they hatched somewhere, in the home of the Matriarch of all? A home with flowerpatterned, matching furniture and drapes – *shudders* – and pictures of babies in various poses and ‘artistic’ surroundings, by famous, but overrated and mainstream photographer on the walls? Just litters upon litters of men with eyes that look down when you discuss with them, men that ask first, men with delicate hands with nails that are just a bit too long, men that hesitate and men who gets phased when you have an oppinion and stand your ground … And if so, you think maybe a fork in the jugular of the Matriarch will take her down, and stop this army of stuttering men from overflowing the country?
I read somewhere recently, that Scandinavian women brings out the beta in a man. We’re too confident, too masculine, too strongwilled. It got my cogwheels turning.
I can’t run from the fact, that I made my exhusband more beta, than what he was at first, as I grew more strongwilled over the years. I guess it seperates the sheep from the goat. And I swear, I’m really not violent, I’ll leave the fork in the kitchen drawer.
But I do need a goat in my life.
… Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write.