Men Sick Of Women's Fairytale Fantasies

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Woman kissing frog
Believing that one day you'll find your prince sets everyone up for disappointment.

If I read the phrase "You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince" on this site one more motherspelunking time, I'm going to spontaneously barf. You don't really believe this, do you? Dudes don't have an equivalent to this creaky, cliché trope. It's not like you'll ever hear one guy comfort another guy by saying "You’ve got to kiss a lot of whores before you find your Madonna." Or vice versa.

Men don't want to date princesses. Maybe there are some who do, and the women who aspire to be princesses deserve the brutes. And for that matter, I sure as hell ain't no prince, although I'd love to bring the cape back. These days, I'm just a messed up clown with a poet's liver whispering sweet nothings to a pair of nickels in the hopes they'll make babies so I can afford a new pair of over-sized shoes. Men do not want to be princes. Princes are born into success, men make their own. We want women who share that same ethic, however it is success is defined. It's just not sexy to date a helpless princess with an aversion to peas and a bluebird fetish. Give us Sarah Connor in a black cocktail dress pumping a shotgun any day. Read: How To Love Like A Tough, Southern Chick

 

I would never claim to be a "feminist." I have other underhanded ways to get laid than feigning allegiance to a vibrant if fractious movement that doesn't need my feeble brain power. But when I hear perfectly intelligent and willful women console each other with fairy tale mantras that promise, with a lot of persistence, they will find a well-heeled prince to care for them, I become conspiratorial. Read: Can A Feminist Like Spanking?

Maybe there really is a patriarchy, and I've just never been invited to their annual meet-up.  It's a testosterone-jacked cabal of dudes smoking cigars, and wearing penis hats, sitting around an oblong table in a secret silo on a peninsula plotting how to reinforce absurd, medieval wish fulfillment fantasies in women. I imagine the meeting's minutes going something like this:

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