Listen, ladies.

We really are this bad. Born dumb, we spend our lives trying to get even dumber. Pointless self-destructive behaviors blossom as soon as we can crawl, then eventually bloom in the midsummer of our lives, watered with cheap beer and fertilized by the bravado born of the foolish mistakes we’ve already made but survived.

We’re sent to school and told that we’re gonna like Emily Dickinson and sharing and we fidget the whole time and then go home and pull the legs off of flies and play mumblety-peg while contemplating the method of our next blow to the head. We can’t help ourselves.

You have to help us. You need to take us in, and feed us hot food and make us fix the stuff we break and give us progeny that breaks things we’re forced to fix. You need to tell us to bathe and stop drinking out of the jug.

You can’t fix us, of course. But you can outlast us. Please, take in a male of the species today, and ruin him properly. Do it for the children. The doltish, smelly, gross, lewd, nose-mining, belching, farting, dirty, scabby male children.

(Thanks to regular reader and regular guy  Misterarthur for sending that one along)