Women are all frail and dainty creatures.
They all pick daisies, cuddle puppies, sew
their frilly frocks of pink and indigo
with all the love their endless patience nurtures.
All women dream of log-fired, cottaged futures
with tender-hearted gentlemen who show
the same emotions that, unbridled, flow
from their own, sweetest, loveliest of natures.
Women can’t be big or threatening.
Aggressive women? What? There’s no such thing!
Their outbursts are mere trifles. Morally,
we must treat them like children empty of evil.
What kind of dribbling fluff-brain must you be
to actually agree with all this drivel?
