[NB: This post is intended as a general commentary, and doesn't apply to some women.]
Lemme tell you something about women and why so many of them don't like the word SHIT.
Women craft their existences around the probability-- however remote-- that someone, somewhere, might accidentally or purposely catch a glimpse-- or a taste!-- of their assholes. Everything they do, every thought they think, is pinned somehow to that eventuality. Crazy as it may sound, it's the best way there is to understand female behavior-- straight, lesbian, whatever.
All female actions have, as their Aristotelian telos, the cleaning and polishing of the anus. A proper woman would never be caught dead with dingleberries-- physical, verbal, or otherwise. Any mention of SHIT sets off proximity alarms on the sexiest space vehicle of them all, the USS Estrogen.
"Alert! Fecal matter approaching, Captain Queef!"
"Identify! Is it verbal fecal matter?"
"Aye, Captain! Heading straight for us!"
"Balls! Evasive action! Arm and fire rearward tampon torpedoes! Set phasers on shun! Divert all power from the Hello Kitty Energizer to the Nipple Cannon!"
If a woman could have her way, she'd have her anus surgically removed. Its presence is disconcerting. Consider butt plugs. I'm pretty sure those were invented by women who long for ass-cracks as featureless as Barbie's.
I mean, like, ooooh, gross, shit is all gooey and stuff!
And I get the impression that constipation isn't an issue for women: they like being constipated! They feel morally superior when they face the world in a constipated state! When you read female prose that is truly eloquent, truly beautiful, you can hear the writer's obvious hrrrrrrrgh! in your mind.
Come on-- how many women leave the ladies' room without having gone through a proper, 20-step cleansing ritual? Maybe some neglect themselves, but those are the ones who used to have penises. I bet Harisu is filthy south of the DMZ.
Guys, on the other hand-- real guys-- simply don't give a shit. The ones who do give a shit have been whipped by women into being nice little doggies... at which point the women usually complain, "You know... you used to be so wild, so much fun. What happened to you?" And all the guy can do by way of reply is whimper and lick his balls apologetically.
You know I'm right about women. Britney Spears's popularity among teen girls wouldn't be what it is today if her album had been titled, "Oops, I Skid-marked Again."
[The above was adapted from a comment I wrote on another blog.]
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