THE WAR OF THE SEXES
All is fair in love and war translates to love is war, because we all know war isn’t love. The battlefield has long been set, and the war of the sexes rages on.
It’s pretty straightforward.
Men utilize the strategy of a traditional force. Hold down the fort, and let no one invade. Women employ a more modern strategy, that of the conqueror. Women go out, and infiltrate using a Trojan Horse. Men see women, and instantly melt at the wonderful sight of a seemingly benign exterior.
Once contact is made, war is underway. Men are available for any approaching foe, as their only directive is to protect the castle. Or in this case, their manhood. Women begin by wheeling in the Trojan Horse, and are welcomed into the city. This appears a joyous time, but women are gathering intel at an unfathomable rate. Before they make their move for destruction, they must be sure that the castle is actually worth conquering.
Men are sitting ducks and offer up juicy bits of intelligence at will. The Trojan Horse is beautiful after all, adorned with makeup and costume. Women move through a quick checklist; car, job, family, looks, friends, house, ambition, etc… If the man has a combination of resources worth plundering, the woman begins to pillage for booty.
Because of the clandestine nature of a woman’s war strategy, she typically gets something of a head start in battle preparation. She’s devised a plan, and the slow stealing of manhood begins almost immediately. But she’s undercover, a double agent. Her public position on the war of the sexes is that it isn’t even happening, and poses as an ally to the unwitting man. It’s now where she’ll test the waters of charity. Will he pay for dates? Open doors? Can his behavior be modified?
She develops a rapport with the man, attaining an emotional investment equating to his vulnerability. Unaware he’s under siege, the extraction of manhood happens quickly. An official declaration of war appears with application of the title “boyfriend/girlfriend”. Male allies are divided and conquered, as they inevitably serve only to delay the female operation. Hence the reason boyfriends spend significantly less time with male friends than single men.
This stage can take years, as women must maintain plausible deniability to avoid blowing their cover. During this time, the male becomes unrecognizable to those who knew him before. As a dominance display, women often change the way men dress, who they hang out with, and what they choose to do with their free time.
Eventually, the man will be alerted by a close friend or his own conscience that something isn’t right. There’s been a change. With manhood grossly depleted, he reaches down between his legs. Much to his surprise, they’re still there. Whether or not he grabs firm hold of them will determine the victor in the war of the sexes.
The invading woman is keenly aware of the male’s behavior, and senses his newfound alertness. She knows the time has come, and will likely ask where the relationship is headed, or if the male is ready to take the next step in the relationship. She will point out the victories of her contemporaries, and the defeat of his.
“All our friends are married!”
In her bloodthirsty quest for complete and total dominance, the woman makes zero compromise.
Only a show of faith, in the form of an extremely rare and valuable crystal, and an official surrender, in the form of a binding legal contract that begins with the man dropping to one knee, the ultimate sign of submission and defeat, will satiate her thirst.
As if private surrender weren’t enough, she will then dress her fallen foe in a “monkey suit” for humiliation, and parade him around in front of family and friends in a sadistic ritual referred to as a wedding.
The campaign is over, and the woman has won. Other women will cheer and applaud, knowing their quest for complete and total world domination has taken yet another step in the right direction. It is what it is, and we all know it’s true. Women rule the world. Down with the matriarchy I say.
The war of the sexes