I'm ovulating, which in my case seems to involve astonishing hormonal peaks that I am positive must include a great deal of testosterone, as that is the only way I can understand the aggressiveness that results. So, readers, you have now been duly warned and I will start with a truism: it's the woman who makes the decision. She's the one to decide if, with whom, and when, if at all, sex is to proceed. A man's one and only job is to be at the ready, at any and all times. It's a simple physiological fact, my friends, honed over millions of years of evolution. I will now impart a jewel of wisdom: the best test of the true mettle of a man is to give him the choice between food and sex. A real man will go straight for the booty, every time.
I've recently been test-driving a boy toy; at 15 years younger than me, this is the biggest age difference so far. I remember C. used to lament that she wasn't able to just duct-tape their mouths shut to prevent things coming out that were, nearly inevitably, a turn-off. Although I found that almost shockingly misanthropic at the time, as I've grown older I'm unfortunately starting to understand. Initially this seemed to be of no consequence as Mr. Boy Toy is perfectly happy to occupy his mouth otherwise. However, I am quite peeved as I have summoned him by SMS and he has apparently refused in favor of lunch with friends. This is a very bad sign, my friends, and I will have to seriously consider whether it is a deal-breaker (90% odds say it is).
Back to the title of this post. I have it straight from my ex: there's no better word to describe men. Somehow they seem to think that they have a say in the matter. I find that to be a particular problem in Europe, frankly. Sure, we're talking about centuries and centuries of cultural constructs. But biology runs deep, my friends, millions of years deep. And this particular female has neither the time nor the patience for beta males.