Quip Pro Ho

The only reason I wrote this was to use the title Quip Pro Ho. That is it. Nonetheless, since I have no desire to ever date again and am a self attributed asshole, there is little personal consequence for these words. But still, if you don't like the following post: kiss my ass and die - not necessarily but hopefully in that order.

I do admit what is supposed to be broadside of a barn sarcasm comes off as little more than an angry, puerile rant. Blame my mother and Sailor Moon - I do.

I wasn't always a feminist. In seventh grade, I was awarded sexist of the year, my family took me out to Ponderosa to celebrate. In college, I had the opportunity to watch a prostitute perform lewd sexual acts on stage, all in the name of women's rights but passed due my then immature belief that you pay for a sex show out of pocket, not out of tuition money – that and she had a used, haggard look about her, kind of like what happens to beef jerky when left in the microwave longer than 20 minutes, but what career sex worker doesn't?

However, as I have grown older and wiser, my belief has changed; I have undergone a social awakening to the perfect positive presented by feminism. I am now an ardent feminist, a believer in the absolute equality between men and women - as long as it benefits women.

I can't imagine the daily terror that women are subjected to in the workplace. To think that a man, in particularly a supervisor, would hone in with laser like precision on low cut blouse is horrific beyond description. A woman has every right to dress like a hooker in the workplace, then complain about it to to an attorney and successfully sue for millions of dollars, all because her male coworkers dared to lewdly stare at the proffered merchandise. It doesn't have to make sense if the EEOC and Gloria Allred say so.

Not only do women have to endure the stigma of being objectified for sex objects when acting like sex objects, they also suffer the indignity of earning 80% the salary of their male peers for doing 80% of the work. Who cares if Jim puts in a fifty hour work week and Jill puts in the standard forty. They should make the same amount, if not necessarily earn it. Why? Because women and men are equal, except when it comes to incentives in the workplace, birth control rights, and physical performance standards.

I did an informal survey of the local teenage lifeguards in my area. 3 out of 5 were women who weighed less than 120 pounds. Obviously they would be completely incapable of towing my drowned corpse to dry land, or that of any post pubescent male for that matter. Who cares? They look good in their swimsuits and are more than capable of policing the young children running around the periphery of the pool.

The same is true for police officers and fire women. The job requirement standards should be physically less demanding for women. Who cares if it potentially endangers their well being and that of the public at large, fitness for duty is of no matter when compared to self image and gender based quotas.

And to think that there was a time when reproductive rights were limited. Why should birth control end when the sperm meets the egg; it only makes sense for a woman to have the right to prevent birth up to and (possibly) during the ninth month of pregnancy. My feminist intuition leads me to believe that even after birth, say during the first three or so years of child rearing, a woman should have the right to change their mind – if only for the sake of convenience, their career and social calendar. I can only imagine how hard it is remove a puke stain from a little black dress.

What is more empowering than meaningless, lust driven sex? Women should be viewed and defined by their sexual urges and indiscretions, just like men. If a man can sleep with fifty women; it is every women's duty to sleep with at least fifty one men (and five women during an experimental phase in college.)

There is nothing wrong with being a whore as long as you are in control of the exchange and receive equal value for the service. What is marriage but a patriarchal attempt to make a woman submissive to their husband, a one sided contract if you will that only provides unimportant things live love, security and happiness. The only way to prevent this domination is for a woman to fuck as many men as possible in the shortest amount of time – based on my research from reading Cosmo, Seventeen and Vogue, this period of time is from ages 12 to 65.

It is not like there is consequences to such behavior, as I mentioned earlier, pregnancy isn't a problem and most venereal diseases take years to kill you – if at all. Look at how well this philosophy has worked in Africa, of course in that example the behavior is largely perpetuated by men; the African continent has yet to experience full feminist conversion, the people have been too busy starving, engaging in brutal civil wars and dying of AIDS.

I have only touched on what it means to be a feminist, strike that, what it means to be a modern woman. The only common thread that my inferior male brain can find throughout is the notion of Quid Pro Quo: whether it be in the workplace, in the bedroom , or a dank and dark alley with sterile medical coat hangers, all that matter is that women receive a more-or-less equal exchange or substitution of goods or services – obviously the definition of equal should be determined by women for women and in spite of (or to spite) men.

I am a woman, here me rack up thousands of dollars in billable hours to my shrink.