Women’s Stories Have No Fucking Point

There’s a myth as old as men’s desire to un-invent pants.

Women’s stories have no fucking point.

While that is a man-fact — meaning it is true as far as a man immediately understands and knows true things to be true without a lot of dicking around with proofs and facts and other such nonsense; it is not a true fact.

The true fact of it is women’s stories have too many points.

Here’s the mathematical formula to determine how many points a woman has in her average story.

First, take the number of sentences in said story. Keep in mind women believe semi-colons, commas, the word ‘and’, and most ruefully the dreaded ellipses to be sentence terminators. That’s why all women write like shit. If you’ve ever read any of the works of E. E. Cummings then you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s all because women hate periods (for obvious reasons).

Then, take the number of sentences and add like twenty or a thousand to it. That’s the number of points that woman was trying to make in her tirade of bullshit. Ten sentences? That’s a million fucking points right there. Nice.

Here’s another way to tell when a woman is making a point. Sometimes it’s just not convenient to be adding thousands of numbers together while you’re talking to a woman. Instead, watch how her eyes get wider and wider at seemingly random points throughout her unlistenable monologue. Each lid-straining, eyeball-bursting squinch is another alleged point she’s tossing onto the heap like a banana peel on a pile of shit.

Women have no idea what they’re talking about at all times. If you want to argue with a woman about anything — financial matters or parenting tactics, just do a Mad Libs instead and when you’re sick of them go and do whatever the fuck you want.

You’re the man and it’s not your right to do whatever you want, it’s your mother fucking responsibility.

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