“You don’t have to hold the door for me because I am a woman,” she accused, as she snickered in her repressive bitch mode.

Oh, this would be a good day for a bitch session. In front of me the bitch. Her opponent: a Neanderthal that was taught by his father to be a man, a real man. Not the “man” of our current time. You know, the emasculated, metro sexual pussy who hides and runs from his evolutionary physical supremacy because he has allowed a misguided, weak, liberal society to destroy the masculine enigma.

Seriously, did she really say that to me? I mean, I have read about “women” like this, but I honestly did not think that such creatures actually existed. Unfortunately she was emphatically real and now nauseatingly lecturing me on the new world feminazi order.

“I am not holding the door for you because you are a woman. I am holding the door for you because I am a gentleman,” came the reply of the real man.

BOOM! Yes, bitch that was my response. Smoke on that fragrance of insanity.

What, a gentleman. Well, arguably with the use of my offensive terminology associating the female dog to the fairer sex might justifiably question the classification. Good Lord, I was just holding the door. I do it for everyone. It is the nice thing to do. And YES, I go out of my way to do it for a woman, any woman, because it is the right thing to do.

Real men, gentlemen—men who are psychologically powerful enough to be physically and socially gentle—treat women and everyone with respect. They express that respect in direct action by saying, “Hey, I place you first because I value you as a person and a woman.”

You see, real men value women because they are just that, WOMEN! There is no hidden motive or alternative agenda in the simple act. It is what it is as a sign of respect. Even if that respect is undeserving for such a disgusting, confused femme fatale.

For a brief moment I debated in my caveman mind to just move on and let things be. But she would not allow such civility and continued her vociferous barrage of bullshit and feminist propaganda aimed vehemently at her knight in black sweats and baseball cap.

“Jesus, woman, I was just being nice. Stop reading into it.”

Well, any attempt to rationalize with this tigress of disdain fell to the bowels of caveman hell. She was relentless. Relentless with a B, and an I……….TCH!

“What, you think because I am a woman I need special treatment?”

“No, for Christ’s sake, I thought we established my proclivity for civility and chivalry.”

Apparently I forgot the cardinal rule for some of today’s “women.” Any visible display of a distinction of the sexes is a no no. Yeah, it’s bad. Well, at least for some. Hmmmm, let me get this straight. Treating a woman like a woman is somehow anti-woman. Yep, you got it. Gestate on that for a while during your caveman meal of gnawing on your latest kill and satisfying your gastrointestinal primitive urges.

Crap, and she was rather hot by most standards. Given a different scenario I would have clubbed her in the head and towed her gnarly ass back to the bat cave for some head board banging and hedonistic screams of passion. In my testosterone override and physiologic state of perpetual penile priapism I was misled by the smaller head. Women know that is a man’s weakness. Even if it is a stereotype. That is part of our evolution too. Well, my statement of unbridled manliness was not taken well.

“Listen, Honey, in another setting I would have asked you to possibly have a drink and perhaps later even come home to my abode. Perhaps if you were comfortable with your own sexual identity you might have considered it, both of us being mildly attracted to one another.”

Well, being the caveman I was, I intentionally fooled my fragile mind to believe she might be oozing estrogen attraction to match my thirst for sexual conquest. Alas, a gentleman is always honest with women and himself, even a caveman gentlemen. A gentleman also does not lower his standards regardless of hotness for a bitch of a woman who doesn’t even accept or like the pure fact of her own gender. That is how the bitch evolved. She progressively denied her own identity as a woman in order to emasculate the masculine half of the species. Since that is actually easier than accepting truth and distinction of difference between the sexes.

It is actually simple, quite simple. The feminazi’s hate themselves. They won’t or can’t admit this state of self-hatred. It is no different than the excessively emasculated, feminized, pseudo-male who similarly hates himself. Thus they take on the roles of the opposite gender. So it is easier to accept some false sense of security basked in the pseudo crap of liberal progressivism that says there is no difference between the sexes. Men can act like women, and women can act like……well, whatever the hell they think they are acting like.

You see, I don’t get offended when you hold the door for me. I am not somehow stripped of my guy card by your act of civility. I am secure in my manliness and my role in society, the family and the interaction of the human sexes. But all things being unequal, I will always hold the door for you. Because my gentlemen gene propagates that insane, irrational behavior.

Well, sorry to burst your vaginal bubble ladies, but there are multiple necessary evolutional distinctions between the sexes. We are not the same. WE NEVER will be. Billions of years have forced such a development. You should be grateful for that development. You should be grateful for gentlemen. You should be grateful for these differences. Otherwise, we would have no development or be here for that matter.

As much as the feminazi bitch lived in her selected offense, her projection of her own disgust with herself towards that which exposes her disgust is her own downfall. And this exposes her hypocrisy in shining, estrogenized glory.

Really, the simple act of holding a door is so offensive?

The purity, nicety, and decency of respect is offensive. Apparently so. And this is exactly why you are and will remain a bitch. Now, that is offensive. It is meant to be.

There is no “I” in team. The team is the human race, the daily play and interaction of men and women being nice to one another. The team is me the man, and you the woman, talking, flirting, exposing ourselves towards a more intimate interaction. Interaction…..it begins with “I.” I, me, you. Well, there is no “I” in team. But there is one in BITCH.

NO, I am not holding the door for you because you are a woman. Actually, your expressive disdain and bitchiness to my action decrease my sense of your distinction as a woman. BUT, even if you are a bitch, regardless, you are still deserving of my chivalry and gentlemanly act. So I will always hold the door for you, even if you are not coming back to my cave for screaming pleasure. I am holding the door for you because that is what men do. Even for you, the bitch!