When my daughter was 4 years old she said “Daddy, will you play with my dinosaurs with me?”
“Sure! Sounds like fun. How about the dinosaurs have a war?” I suggested.
“No Daddy, the dinosaurs are going to have a wedding!”
I swear, weddings are hardwired in the female DNA.
To be perfectly honest, I am of the XX persuasion and I never fantasized about weddings or being a bride or having children.
Thank GOD I wasn’t born in today’s day and age or they’d be trying to give me transgender surgery!!!
Below is the result of a writing assignment given by an English professor from the University of Colorado. A “tandem story” was to be written by two students, one male, one female.
The story was to be compiled in alternating paragraphs via email, with CC’s to the professor. There was to be no communication between the writers aside from each successive email. The story would end when both participants agreed a successful conclusion had been achieved.
THE STORY:
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gerry)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic, tea-drenched bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to GeoStation 17,” he said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far...” But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
(Rebecca)
He died almost immediately. But not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who ever had feelings for him. Soon afterward, Earth stopped pointless hostilities toward the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read online one morning. The news simultaneously excited and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no cell phones, no Internet to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at the beauty around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.
(Gerry)
Little did she know she had less than 10 seconds to live. The wimpy peaceniks who’d pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for hostile empires determined to destroy the human race. Just hours after the passage of the treaty, alien ships were on course for Earth with enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. Their lithium fusion missiles entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, was rocked by the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent geek.
(Gerry)
Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. “Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other &*@#@#@# TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I’m an air headed bimbo who reads too many romance novels!”
(Rebecca)
@hole.
(Gerry)
B@tch!
(Rebecca)
#@!% YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!
(Gerry)
In your dreams, ‘Ho. Go drink some more #@#&*!@ tea.
(Rebecca)
I hate you. Don’t ever talk to me again.
(TEACHER)
A+ I really liked this one.
True story: two big brothers and a little sister. The two brothers were given Tonka trucks, and they of course raced them, crashed them into each other, making vroom! vroom! sounds and achieving as much as they could in terms of noise, speed and destruction.
Feminist mom passed the trucks on to her little girl. She "sat" them in a circle, put little hats on them and had a birthday party.