Hey here’s a bunch of bullshit:
Men are good at focusing. Women are good at multitasking.
I had to break that woman-maxim into two sentences because not even my mighty man brain could process the fucked up logic there. It’s like trying to dump a bowl of Mueselix into a state of the art DVD player.
Women are shit at doing things — and definitely not as good as men at anything. So we’re supposed to believe that if they do a shitload of things they’re not very good at all at the same time, women suddenly turn into a one-man band with the cymbals between their legs?
I don’t want to link to an article at the bottom of this page that details an SUV crash in which a woman’s severed arm was found some distance away from the site with a cell phone gripped in her talons like an otter with a delicious clam, but I’m going to. It’s one small example of how shitty women are at doing things at the same time — at multitasking. And that is: completely shitty.
No man anywhere needs any examples on this. Just look at women and their fat asses. If they could multitask at all, they could be running some laps while beating their gums all day long, but they can’t so they don’t. End of story.
The real technical foul here is women and their hand-me-down attitudes toward heaping awards on themselves. It’s women and their society of leftovers. Let me explain.
If men are good at doing things, then women must be good at doing lots of things at the same time, right? Yin and Yang and all that bullshit that no woman has ever actually read but feels as though it speaks to her soul. If men are good at mechanics, women must be good at nurturing. If men are good at making money, then women must be good at managing money or spending it. That’s all a bunch of piddly nonsense.
True, men are good at all those things. Men are good at everything, but no woman has ever proved the same to herself. It’s called the scientific method, proving things, but it should just be called the Man Method because that’s what it is.
Women and their made up Mad Lib character traits, like nurturer and comforter, are like the little brother who gets his older brother’s Batman costume for Halloween and then proclaims loudly that it’s exactly what he’s always wanted.
Then why is there a Superman poster in your room, kid? Why is there a Superman poster?