I wrote a blog awhile ago called “Cleavage is like kryptonite”.
I took some shit for that one and got some hate email.
Mainly because I am a man, and men can’t admit we look at breasts without being a sexist pig.
This is the usual claim by women you would not want to fuck in the first place.
Thank you George Carlin for that beautiful line.
I remember thinking that a woman would not take a quarter of the shit I got if she wrote it.
Came across something shiny and brilliant today.
Its a blog written by a woman for women.
But this is not Oprah.
This is more like brutal, womanly tough love.
You will probably need some perspective on this, just to follow the discussion.
It is as wise as the language is raw.
But aren’t most harsh truths a little raw?
It deals with what we want and what we are conditioned to think we want.
We want to be attractive to the opposite sex.
This is true for men and women.
Think about a time when you were flirting outrageously with some, a time you felt sweetly dangerous to the opposite sex.
If you say it wasn’t thrilling, you are full of shit.
But, society wants you to feel shame.
How could you want that?
Oh, and then society will force feed you sex appeal as the main component of advertising for the majority of your life.
And don’t tell me the cartoons you watched as a kid didn’t have a little sexual tension.
I remember Scooby Doo, Daphney was a piece of ass, back before I knew what that meant.
So with all of these mixed messages you are spoon fed during your upbringing, you enter the adult work force.
And into the snake pit you go.
If you think that is a penis reference, you are right, and wrong at the same time.
But, at work, you often find yourself faced with attractive people you would like to date/screw, depending on how honest you are in your own head.
Which is not as easy as it sounds.
Sometimes the easiest person to lie to in the world is yourself.
Back to the trouble spots.
Someone finds you attractive, they ask you out.
And, if you find them attractive, you go out with them.
If you don’t, its sexual harrassment.
What a double standard.
Ain’t it great.
Maybe in the long run we have just gotten too politically correct.
Our bodies instinctively tell us one thing, and society dementedly tells us several other things, often at the same time.
No wonder we have painted ourselves into the harrassment corner.
Maybe if we all just communicated better.
How about over drinks, back at my place, Sugar?
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