Alessandra Ambrosio Downward Facing Dog

While the feminist world is striving to be treated like men, minus the prostate cancer and ceaseless decades of work, they’re being betrayed by their own gender naturally obsessed with celebrity, fashion, and looks. A quick search reveals that the last forty to infinity articles in female journals on Alessandra Ambrosio are about her figure, her hair, her clothes, or how cute her children look in designer outfits.

Even when women have more to offer than hot dullards plucked from the Amazon at age seven for a life of yoga pants in Brentwood, articles on them quickly devolve into what she was wearing, how she keeps her skin so flawless, and the last adorable thing her husband did for her prior to the eventually messy divorce. Herein lies the unfortunate truth. Men don’t keep women down, women do. Partly by nature partly by blind commercialism. To borrow from Stern’s book of animal analogies, men are the foxes stalking the henhouse. You put up some chicken wire and a decent door and you’re good. The slyness of foxes is vastly overrated. It’s the clucks inside the house that’ll peck you to death for a superior spot in the order.

I’m going to stare at this woman and possibly imagine her sweaty cunny rubbing back and forth across my face like a CIA black site water boarding. Yet I’m not the enemy. I’d hire her in a second over a five times more qualified dude. I’d pay her more too. I’m a pig. Wait, no, that was fox, Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m not the problem.

_{Photo Credit: FameFlynet}