**I’m just going to preface this by saying that I am sure this does not apply to all, but I am sure to piss a few people off today.

Do I believe that women should have the same rights as men? Sure. Why not? If a woman wants to join the military and get her head blown off then so be it, let her. It’s her body and her soul. Period. Would I do that? No. It’s not part of my constitution. Should women be allowed to race cars, shoot guns, climb mountains, be CEO’s, doctor’s, astronauts, baseball/football/basketball players or whatever the fuck they want… Yes, absolutely. Why not? This idea that women are the weaker sex should be bygones. And I don’t get why any woman on the planet would want to defer to a man just so she can be happy and say that she is wanted. We don’t live in the days of men owning the plow and the ox and the money. Women work just as hard as men do, harder, in my opinion. Does that make me a feminist? No, it really doesn’t. I have mad, mad respect for men and all they do. Some are better than us and some are, well… not. But I like being taken out for dinner and having the car/restaurant/house door opened for me. I like shaving my legs and pits and everything else. I like wearing dresses and being told I’m pretty/sexy/fun. I just think I’m an realist. We don’t have the luxury any longer of thinking in absolutes when it comes to who is the better sex.

I was raised by my father and a bunch of very strong aunts, who taught me to say please and thank you and never ever take shit from anyone. If that makes me odd, OK. I’m OK with that. What you do is your business and what I do is mine and please don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. I know what my limits are. I am certain that I can drink you under the table.

Which brings me to last night.

And many other nights in my life, that are alcohol related…

My friend took me to a place in Little Italy and her friend (a Sicilian man) said something about how his friend (a man) just had a baby. And I jokingly said to my friend’s Sicilian man friend, “You mean his wife had the baby…” (insert my own corny laugh here) The guy turned around and said, “So, ju tink dat da men dey don do any uva da work?!”

Me: “Ummmm, No, well maybe for about 2 minutes and then it’s all the woman.” (more corny, but now, slightly nervous laugh)

Sicilian Man: “So, ju are tellin me dat men do no ting!!?? Dat we don haf anyting to do wit a baby comin inta dis world, dat men haf no wert (worth) in da makin uva da baby??!!??”

Me: “Well, No. Biologically for 10 months, no. But it’s nice that you like to think you do, but that wasn’t my point.” At this point I’m being ironic, because, quite honestly you stupid fucking guido piece of shit, I can see where this is going and you are having little dick syndrome. (I only thought this last part in my head…)

Me: “Look I was just joking with you and I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

Sicilian Douche Bag: “Whhhhaaaaattt, YOU thinka YOU hurt my filinz now, who you tink you arrrre?”

Me: “Ummmm, Ok now, I am going to go and sit over there with my friend. You have a nice evening.”

You asshole.

When I went back to sit with my friend she basically gave me the dressing down of my life about how I shouldn’t have made him angry and that he was a very sweet and special man to her.

????????????????????????????

Ok. I respect that. But then later, after we walked out of the door, he started blowing up her phone and calling her a bitch and me, well I can just imagine what he texted about me. Good. Lord. A very sweet and special man with serious Oedipus issues.

Late that evening we kept running into the Sicilian Asshole. It went from bad to worse. The last straw was when we ended up at Denney’s. Sooooo far away from Little Italy, and guess what?? There he was sitting with his guido friend and the guido girlfriend, Snooky! Are you f-u-c-k-i-n-g kidding me??

My friend, being the loving soul that she is, walked over and gently asked him if we could make friends, because she wanted to sit with the Sicilian Douche Bag. Um, wait a minute, I have ZERO interest in being friends with this turd. He got up and walked away from her and the table, and I ever so gently (NOT) said I would just like to Uber home. As I was walking away I flipped the guy off (not my finest moment) and Snooky thought I was flipping her off and tried start a fight with me outside, to which I said, “Are you serious? What are you going to do? You are 40 years old and you are going to beat me up???” And then I really laughed.

I got into the uber and on the way home the driver asked me what had happened and I explained, to the best of my ability, what events had taken place and the guy says, “Shit man, that guy was lucky. My Mom would’ve just kicked his ass.”

Back to my point. I am not a feminist. But if you treat me like shit I am going to let you have it. If you treat my girlfriend’s like shit, I am going to let you have it. If I lose a girlfriend over her liking to be treated like shit, well that’s her problem I guess. Very few men are worth it these days anyhow. (Sorry guys but it’s true) There are 7 Billion (7,000,000,000 a lot of zeros,) people on this planet and counting. You would think the odds of good people would be high, I am a realist, the good people are few and far between. I have the great fortune to know about 20 really good people. I am no saint. I don’t profess to be. I fuck up. I say stupid things. I hurt people’s feeling and get my feelings hurt. I’m just a human and at the end of the day, at the end of my life, I just want to be able to look back and say, I did the very best I could.

I know what my value is in this world. I am not going to back down because of some asshole’s, archaic cro-magnon ways. Get over yourself. As I stated before, we DO NOT, abso-fucking-lutely DO NOT have the luxury of this stupidity any longer. Women should be able to enjoy being women and men should do the same without beating each other up, literally and figuratively.

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