I used to work in an office. I worked with a lot of women. That is generally not a bad thing. Often I happened to be the only guy in the office with about 8 women. That can be a bad thing. I have to say, I’m a big fan of female bodies. Maybe one of the biggest. What I have discovered, however, is that when men aren’t around women are waaaaay too comfortable talking about their bodies and the various functions of them. Apparently if a man leaves the room, women immediately begin talking about their biology. Women also seem to have no idea that a man may return to the room at any moment and hear part of their conversations. Some of these conversations have the same effect as catching your parents having sex. You want to run from the room screaming and gouge your eyes out to hopefully remove the image that is burned upon your brain. A memo to any pregnant women out there: If you are in the late stages of your pregnancy and still at work, your male co-workers do not want to know how dilated you are or how your water may break and “come out in squirts.” Also, if all these women are retaining as much water as they say they are, why don’t we hear that squishy sound when they walk? Especially if they’re retaining it in their ankles. Also, PMS does not stand for Persecute Men Syndrome. We didn’t cause your periods, so don’t take them out on us. Yeast is used in baking right? Why do women constantly get infections from it? I’ve been in the kitchen before. I’ve baked cookies, but never once have I been so intimate with the ingredients of what I was making that I ended up with an infection in any orifice of my body. And you know how when a group of women spend a lot of time together whether it be at work or in a college dorm their menstrual cycles sync up? How the hell does that happen? Are their uteruses(is that the correct plural? Is it uteri?) sending invisible hormonal microwaves across the room to each other? Or do you ladies just talk and decide to have your periods at the same time? And if there are invisible uterus microwaves criss-crossing a room while I’m there, what the hell could they be doing to my testicles? It’s a good thing I got out of there I suppose. Ladies, you know how there’s all that dirty, metal junk under the hood of your car? The same way that you just want your car to start without knowing how an internal combustion engine works is exactly how guys feel about your bodies. We just want them to turn on when we put the key in. We don’t want to know how they work.
Self-proclaimed grand poobah of leisure and author of humorous suspense novels The Sneaker Tree & White Picket Prisons, the humor essay book Fifty Shades of Phil and the long running blog The Phil Factor. thephilfactor.com
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