Oh. My. God. Is this a brilliant idea. Gals, Ladies, Sisters, Womyn, whatever, you have no idea what you're doing to us when you drag us along shopping with you. You have no idea how you are messing with our heads. It's not that we don't understand the nuances of comparing the colors of twelve separate tops you're not going to buy.
It's not that we don't appreciate the aesthetics of which of those six shades of base disagrees with your skin color the least, even if you've bought them all at one time or another.
It's not that men don't appreciate fashion, and hair, and cosmetics. It's not like we don't use them.
But for the last five thousand years, everytime we've had to worry about our hair and make-up, we've had to go out and kill something immediately thereafter...
So whenever you drag us out shopping with you...
YOU'RE SENDING US SOME VERY MIXED MESSAGES!
Note: Edited 1st para to correctly reflect Smitty's authorship, not Stacy's. My bad.
2 comments:
Yeah. Very good point.
Word ver: 'laceabl(e)'
No Stevie Nicks, I will not spend an afternoon watching you try out lingerie!
Few men will ever comprehend why a woman would want 12 pairs of white sandals.
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