difficult to punish for this, especially in an advanced Christian community, so they simply endured it and, blushing, shyly ran away to the baby.
He has an erection, and he is forced to talk about non-adultery. Can you imagine how unlucky guys are that all their privates are visible when they are excited?
You can’t tell from a woman whether her clitoris is erect, and external behavior is not necessarily truthful. There are a lot of hypocritical ladies who put on an aura of sex for the sake of money and some other benefits.
If we talk about physiology, then you will not see any high spirits through a skirt or pants.
It's funny, isn't it?
Men are so simple as in the palm of your hand.
That’s why women are perceived as cunning creatures; you can’t tell from them what’s going on in your head.
I know a lot of examples of how men made mistakes when considering their passion. Some particularly lazy ones insisted that all the women before me had orgasms with him.
— How? Missionary?
— Well, yes.
— How did you understand it?
— Well, she had pink cheeks, she moaned, squirmed, was wet there and eventually announced that she had come.
— Hmm — I laugh. — It's clear.
I’ll talk about frigidity and orgasm a little later. I see you are already intrigued.
In the meantime, I’m finishing the chapter about my friend and two guys who influenced me deep down.
Enough about sex, we are also smart. Let's talk about money. In polite society it is not customary to talk about sex, the toilet and money. We talk about everything, but only among ourselves in a narrow circle of women.
There is a bit of a problem with money. The fact is that the bulk of consumers on this planet are women. We know each other better than others. Hence the conclusion that the best salesperson should be a woman.
Is it so. How many women now run large corporations, companies, firms?
Not as many as men. They study marketing, sales funnel, lead generation, business models and so on. For many of us this is an empty phrase.
We all complain about how unfair it is to be a woman. I imagined. If I were a man, then in order to convey my idea to someone, I would have to overcome women’s tears, hysterics and insults, as well as men’s fists.
A woman only needs to be capricious and offended. But she doesn’t do that either when it comes to making money.
Do you know what the average woman does? She pouts her lips and stomps her heels so that her husband, daddy, or someone else buys her what she wants.
I'm ashamed of us girls.
Of course, not everyone is like that. There are wonderful businesswomen who run car parts companies, and clueless men who cut wood or paint walls just for the sake of daily needs.
But think about it. If we take two people of different genders with the same level of income and ask them to build a garden in a city where everyone is against it, who will give up faster?
Man.
Why?
He will need to endure the refusals of his own kind, and most likely with his fists. And also fight the second force of resistance — women's tears and grievances.
The woman will hold out a little longer and perhaps win. How? The same tears will help her pity men, and possibly women. And the bitchiness and envy of women from the administration or the people may create obstacles, but only until a compromise is found.
Nightmare?
Yeah.
This is not a fair game, I would say if I didn’t know the second characteristic of women — we don’t know how to take risks. As long as no one sets global goals for us, we are not eager to fight. Again, I don’t want to speak in templates and for the whole mass. There are different women and men.
I'm talking more about the mathematical majority. Not even fifty-one percent.
You know, like in surveys. If thirty-one percent of the target audience has headaches, twenty-nine have a runny nose, twenty have diabetes, and another twenty have grown a tail, then the majority here is thirty-one.
Do you understand?
If you never use a pout to get what you want, then congratulations — you are not in the conditional thirty-one.
I got. I noticed how I won the discussion, assuring my opponent that she was right with tears in her eyes. Without hysterics, of course, I never really practiced them. Just a stingy tear, I would even say moisture on the lower eyelids.
Lately I’ve been holding back, generally pulling myself together every time a lump comes to my throat in an argument.
A stupid, treacherous offense makes the voice tremble and the eyes become wet about once every six months in especially serious ideological duels.
If I just need to do it the way I want, then this is what I do.
(You may ask, why does she teach us to debate?
See you later.)
I outline an idea in my head of what I want to achieve, consider all the pros and cons. I realize for myself which side of the scale outweighs, and I decide whether to prove that I’m right. If my goal is worthwhile, then I mentally imagine how I envelop my counterpart in the care.
True true. I try to imagine all the best qualities of my opponent, recreate them in my mind (and not invent them, by the way), remind myself how smart he is, and that if I convey everything correctly, he will not be able to refuse.
Next, I think through the arguments. The same ones that were in the pros, and I am
