When it comes to Guerrilla marketing, women are donkeys. Marketing in general is about selling something that doesn’t sell itself — namely anything that isn’t boobs. Since men invented it, it’s perfectly natural and to be expected that we’re millions of times better than women at it. That’s just common sense.
Wasn’t there a Tyra Banks show where that dim-witted bean pole dressed up in a fat suit and everyone was a dick to her? I don’t know because I don’t watch that female-type show and I certainly don’t want to hear if I’m right about it. I know I’m right. I’m a man and it’s part of my manhood to predict women and their endless parade of groundhog bullshit. Look here comes another float or a truck covered in posies! What a fucking surprise!
A beautiful woman in a fat suit just sounds like something stupid and obvious that women would emotionally circle jerk about while their husbands were at work. It doesn’t matter anyway, the point is women can’t sell or market anything that doesn’t involve peddling flesh. Guerrilla marketing? Women marketing where you have to rock the box and think outside the boat? You have to be fucking kidding me.
I awoke this morning sick of the bullshit. Sick in a sort of way that makes a man peek his head out of his room at 8AM on Manday (Saturday) and tell the kids to knock it the fuck off with the recorders already. I know where the mice are going. No one needs to hear it a fiftieth time. Perhaps it was the Guerrilla Girl’s billboard fiasco, which I affectionately named the “Wide Load of Angst” and wrote about on Monday. Or maybe it was the Kindergartener I heard about on the radio who was getting sued for sexual harassment. Either way I decided it was time to peek my head out and put my man foot down.
Sure I already have the MenAreBetterThanWomen.com free business cards and we all have a good time with those. I know because I’ve covered the postage and been slapped in the face for them on two separate occasions. This brings me to something bigger and bolder. To wit:
Yes. What you’re looking at there is a monolith of man power. A figurative Five Across the Eyes if I’ve ever seen one, which I plan to have planted (or something very similar to it) somewhere on this mantastic ball of rock lava we call Earth with your help .
By the way, you know how raging “lesbians” and any woman under 19 who lost her virginity to the wrong guy are always spouting the childish nonsense and objections to the many male prefixes littered across the English lexicon?
“It’s HIStory! It’s MANager! People do that 58008/BOOBS thing on the calculator at work and it demeans me!”
What about the fucking word Earth? You can’t spell Earth without H-E-R. Jesus. How’s that for affirmative action.
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