IN WHICH I ALIENATE MY FEMALE READERS

Was just on Clark Street driving to work. The typical weekend pedestrian post-Bacchanalia crowd was out in force, clogging the roadways and generally making asses of themselves. At one point, an especially egregious breach of traffic laws was committed by a gaggle of sweatpant-and-sorority-hoodie clad, insouciant blonde bozos who jaywalked slooowwwwly across Clark Street, completely unperturbed by the lines of cars building up in both directions and smiling insolently at the honking horns. The following ignoble thought crossed my mind: women of this type will never be swayed by appeals to the Golden Rule, or Kantian ethics, or Nietzschian exhortations to overcome the craven, banal bullshit attitude that constantly opposes virtue. In short, they don't care about being polite, and they don't mind being the cyst on the ass-crack of society. Sad to say, the only thing that chastens such girls is the fear that they are ugly or undesirable. Thus, if you want to exact revenge on female douchebags like these, the only way to do so is to tell them (preferably loudly, from an open car window) that they are fat, repulsive, will never attract the attentions of sexually desirable men, and that their friends only pretend to like but in fact revile them. Unfortunately, that is a lot to express in passing from a car. God knows I've tried.

This is my inner sexist. His name is "Rodney." There are many like him, but he is mine.