There are many claims in the current “feminist” era on the part of a “man” that a woman’s intellect is a driving force behind why he chooses to “be with someone” (in quotes in that we’re all always alone no matter who we latch onto to try to delude ourselves into thinking we’ve found a “like-minded soul” to mask the total isolation of existence). But, even as stamped out as sexuality becomes à la 1984, the primordial biology within a “man’s” makeup can’t help but respond to the Barbie archetype.

Thus, when you with your witticisms and Valerie Solanas look suddenly find yourself standing with your “man” in the midst of a woman who is, frankly, far more attractive than you are with her big tits, blow job lips and sun-kissed complexion, it’s only natural that he should completely ignore you. Because all “men” are visually-oriented swine that might consider putting their tongues back into their mouths if there was a woman there waiting to guillotine it off. Alas, you are still trapped in the twentieth century concept that being dainty and self-effacing is what makes all the “boys” come to the yard. After enough time spent being treated as invisible, however, you may soon come to realize that the best offense is a good plastic surgeon.