Measuring Up…Women Still Don’t

Do you know that women don’t use sizes for their clothing in the same way men do?

I just found this out and it’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

Apparently, women are allergic to using inches to describe their fat asses. From the gender that brought you concealer, vanishing cream, and pants in the first place, why am I even surprised?

I’m not at all, that’s why.

In order to demarcate clothing size, women use a series of numbers that loosely correspond to the prodigiousness of their ass. Kind of like how men use the number 38 to denote a 38 inch trouser waist or a 40 to mark its 40 inch length. Kind of like that, but completely fucking stupid.

Women’s sizes mean absolutely nothing in the real world. They mean nothing today and they’ll mean less tomorrow because women’s clothing sizes claim a quality only shared by one other thing: money. That thing is inflation.

That means the amount of ass you can cover today with a size 12 will someday only cover an ass of size 4. That’s inflation.

Why do they do it?

It’s not because it makes clothing more woman-friendly or marketable. That’s all obvious and bullshit. The real reason is because women are too dumb to remember numbers higher than like 20. If they had to use inches — or Jesus Christ how about centimeters, their goddamn heads would explode.

Think about it. How many times have you seen a woman carrying large bills? If you have, she was probably completely mind fucked with terror. Also, why don’t women give phone numbers and addresses in the same correct and manly way that men do; by reading solid, rounded numbers off as their sum? For example, “sixteen-hundred Pennsylvania Avenue,” instead of the much dumber, “one, six, zero, zero Pensylvania.” Notice how the woman also left off the “Avenue” in a completely typical and half-assed way.

Women can’t handle numbers over twenty. That’s why they shouldn’t have jobs and that’s why their clothing comes in stupid sizes. It would be nice to just expect them to keep their waistlines under control, but these are women we’re talking about. I’ve seen a woman wrestle chocolate away from a pig. Hand to God.

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