I’m starting to relate to the heterosexual male’s perspective when it comes to women, namely the various puzzles and emotional obstacles they contend with before being served up a slice of pie. I’ve been in a relationship with a woman for two years; the relationship provides insight into common complaints voiced by men. For example, the term, “Pussy Whipped,” makes more sense. (Excuse the phrase, I didn’t make it up, I’m only repeating what I’ve heard.) Women have more power than they know, and the ones who are aware of the power of pussy are down right resourceful. I once heard someone say, “If I had a pussy I’d work that thing for all kinds of stuff. I’d have a new car, house, and a closet full of clothes. You women are stupid.” –A Gay Man
Alternatively, dating a woman seems to take some of that strength away from her majesty. My old tricks of manipulation don’t work on a woman; I’ve lost my magic. I have to rely on my heart, and attitude for accordance, I’m held to honesty, and am forced to practice accepting my lack of control. I mourn the loss of my prize, but I like that I’m loved without having to cast a spell.
Although I may have some testosterone, I don’t have the ample supply coursing through my parts like men. I almost feel a little sorry for them in the case of being ruled by sex. For the most part, men want sex regardless of their emotional state, and are at the mercy of their female partners. Men are like idle cans of Rediwhip, waiting to explode. Women, on the other hand, (No pun intended.) are only motivated to have sex when, and if their hormones and feelings are balanced. And unlike men, we don’t have the driving force of life governing our bodies; we have not, one, but two lunar calendars we’re forced to live by. In other words, it takes alignment with the universe, a lot of heat generated by a deep emotional connection, and attraction, willpower, effort, and commitment, to keep the bakery open for service. Isn’t life sweet?