Real women are the salivation of all men. The converse it true too, of course.

If it were not not for women and the children they bear for us dudes, “civilization” would amount to a global pub with comfy chairs for “gaming.”

Want to be warm? OK, I’ll be right there (creates a power plant for a woman—we. can. not. help. it.).

It’s very true that 100% of modern convenience has been exclusively created by men. What’s never recognized and is indeed spat upon with regularity, is the realization that we were completely fine and OK freezing and dirty in the pub with our mates. We’re plagued with a conscience. We…I…Can’t help our[my]sel[f/eves].

I love it and so embrace the animal antagonism that goes with it as m spice of life that nobody gets to account for but me. Don’t you? I adore loving my place, even though I can get uppity. Don’t you?

My woman gets on my ass regularly, and I don’t know what I’d do without it.