Or (perhaps) at the very least, closer to bad hygiene than *** than
the entrenched custodians of the Law of Moses, the Scribes and the
Pharisees, would have held in the 1st century of the Common Era.
(Leaving aside those males who, in the words of a cartoonist friend of
mine, --aren't women trapped inside men's bodies -- they're just crazy .
. . --)
No one wants to be a woman.
If, prior to our life on this earth, we were presented with the option
of being male or female, a short description of the functions of the
male versus the female ***ia (with emphasis on menstruation,
menstrual cramps, PMS, labour pains, yeast infections, et al) would most
certainly result in so vast a number of us choosing the male
--equipment-- (what, is this a trick question?) that it is difficult, if
not impossible, to envision any woman being born into this world at all.
To me, it seems less a case of *** envy (Sigmund Freud having lived in
altogether too chivalrous a time period for such --plain talk-- as I
offer here) than it is one of *** abhorrence from the standpoint of
the --would-be tenant-- in contemplating a role as --owner-proprietor--.
Alas, for reasons known only to our Creator, (almost exactly) half of us
come out on the losing end of the coin toss. If things seem pretty
--even steven-- (leaving aside the fact that a ***, self-evidently,
constitutes an anatomical --presence-- and a ***, self-evidently, an
anatomical --absence--) over the course of the first ten or eleven years
in the life of a boy and a girl there does, alas, --come the day . . .
It would take a very hard-hearted individual, indeed (someone like
myself, for instance) to find anything amusing in the level of
Mortification at the Sheer Cosmic Unfairness of It All with which a
young girl must greet the news that every twenty-eight