Women say they are sick of the impossibly high beauty standards men ruthlessly impose upon them. They are tired of having to spend hours at the gym and weeks recovering from surgery just to please men. The American Body Police now audit every increment of a lady’s BMI.
And the victims of this patriarchy-imposed demand for flawlessness are getting younger. When I was 18, it was completely unheard of for girls to get plastic surgery. In 2008, “219,000 cosmetic procedures were done on patients aged 18 and younger.” Even seven-year-olds are considering it.
But finally, the women are trying to fight back. A photo of a normal-sized female mannequin, deemed exceptional because it is normal, is exploding all over the Internet. As of today, about 200,000 people have “Liked” it on Facebook, and thousands of women have left empowering comments such as, “It’s about time!” and “Finally!”
But ultimately, they’re fighting a losing battle. Men will always hold the carrot of perfection at the end of a long stick of suffering simply because they can. What a vile bunch we are.
(Record scratch) Wait a minute! Nobody consulted me about all this.
I didn’t come up with the idea of fake tits. I think they’re bizarre. I’ve met about two men in my life who disagree, but they’re both obese losers who never get laid. Same goes for any man who has uttered the phrase “No fat chicks.” Sure, we’re not into women who are so gigantic, they have a flesh-colored Santa beard like Honey Boo Boo’s mom does. But when we see a truly enormous woman waddling down the street, the worst we think is, “Yeesh, not my cup of tea.” When women see her, the nicest thing they say is, “Look at that disgusting BEAST!” If some enormous female feels too oppressed by all this scrutiny, all she has to do is burn more calories. Women have nobody to blame for all this “oppression” but themselves. Men are way too horny to notice. Before there was porn, we would masturbate to National Geographic magazines and Sears catalogues. Why would women think we have unattainable expectations?
Here in the real world, love is blind. So are erections. We don’t really care what you look like as long as you have a vagina and don’t dry-heave when you see us naked. If women knew how unbelievably perverted we are, they wouldn’t even brush their hair. Napoleon said to Josephine, “I will return to Paris tomorrow evening. Don’t wash.” We want to inhale your flaws. As my buddy Sharky said, “Smelling a woman’s ass is a poor man’s Viagra.” Our testosterone is already airbrushing you into perfection the second you walk into the room. We have virtually no deal-breakers.
Sorry, ladies, but if you want to obsess over gluten and carbs and let a doctor slice off your nipples and shove basketballs inside, that’s your hang-up, not ours. We enjoy a vast assortment of breast types. We like droopers and flapjacks and we’re not even mad if there’s barely anything there. The only ones we’re not bananas about are the 100% deflated pizza slices, but even then you can just keep your bra on and we’ll work around it. Got a gap in the front of your teeth? Sounds good to me. We couldn’t care less about your dental plan. That’s why Japanese women and British chicks have no trouble getting laid. Women say, “Men don’t make passes at women in glasses” at the same moment we’re wondering if she’d be willing to keep them on during sex. A wandering eye—or even a glass one—would be considered icing on the cake.
We only have one deal-breaker: women who are balding. I’m not talking about slightly thin hair that could afford to be a little more luxurious. I’m talking about hair so thin, a middle part leaves a half-inch trough that gets sunburned in July. This problem is easy to solve, however. My barber told me the medical procedures they do now are so incredibly convincing, he can’t even tell. This is someone who stares at scalps every day. So the only thing men really have a problem with affects only a teensy fraction of the female population and it’s easy to solve. Nice “problems.” Some “oppression.”
Straight men are a great scapegoat because we rarely complain. Virtually every time you hear about a woman getting breast augmentation or a facelift or liposuction, her husband is saying, “I thought she looked just fine, but if it makes her happy, go nuts.” Go ahead and bleach your anus. Have all the labiaplasty you want. Just don’t blame us when normal-looking women feel like freaks. You gals set the standards, not us.