Being female must be rough. Seriously ladies, props for sticking it out.
There just seem to be so many inconveniences. You’re top-heavy, you apparently have to perform seventy intricate operations during the course of a single shower, you spontaneously bleed from sensitive orifices. Oh, and the worst part…your life is dictated by proximity to a restroom.
Men don’t have to plan their days around bathroom accessibility. I never have to worry about making sure I’m within sprinting distance of a pristine and well-stocked restroom, because having a penis is a license to urinate in public.
Public urination isn’t technically legal…but that’s never been a deterrent. Men are urinary assassins. We pee sneaky, and we pee fast. By the time you see us walking away, your SUV has already been defiled. Hit and run, baby.
I personally suffer from the wicked combination of a small bladder and an affinity for liquids, which means that I’m either peeing or refilling my pee tank pretty much 24/7. Luckily I’m a man, and the world is my toilet.
I have marked much territory in my time. If we lived by animal rules, I would own half of Northern CA by now. Do you reside in the greater Bay Area? At least one corner of your house is probably mine. Recognize. By the laws of the wild kingdom, I am within my rights to annex a portion of your property at will.
Now, there might actually be one or two benefits to being female…I just can’t think of any. Socially acceptable bisexuality? Advantage in custody disputes? Free drinks? Hmm.
I’m stumped, so feel free to chime in. Meanwhile, I’ll be systematically marking up your neighborhood, doggy style…