Banter in the Garden
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Tea and Strumpets
And today, on the Time Travel edition of the internet, this.
I have to assume it’s some kind of 1950s performance piece. Seriously, even on the internet, I can’t remember the last time I saw someone say that if I wanted to catch a man, I should keep my legs shut. Honest. I’m barely paraphrasing. Here, let me quote:
Sadly, in the midst of being encouraged to be “modern femmes” we forgot our dignity, our morals and to close our legs until they actually tells us they like us for more than just our bedroom prowess.
Samantha Brett has certainly put the work in on this one. Here she is (warning: Sam’s so Up With the Net she thinks embedded music is GREAT) with her book on how to catch men. Srsly. Catch them.
And apparently, her top tip is don’t let them poke at your breasts. (I haven’t seen Bridesmaids, but having John Hamm poke at my breasts sounds like something I might enjoy.)
Sam’s theory is pretty simple, and highly original – in that she might not have been born yet the last time women got talked to like this. All women want only marriage. All men want only sex. Fortunately, men are SO STUPID that you can get one to marry you by not giving him sex. See how that follows? No, nor do I.
But then, I’m so dumb I didn’t realise that, when I was having sex with men (having sex with women just… I dunno, I don’t think that happens in Sam Land) it was to get them to marry me.
In the light of that, my enthusiasm for marriage in my Honours year is astonishing. I was engaged to be married, right, and yet, yet! I tried to get three other guys to marry me as well! That must have been my goal, because why else would I have slept with them?
Actually, that whole thing was completely backwards. Because I didn’t keep my legs shut and one of them proposed to me. Whereas I was a smug unreliable douche-bag with no interest in cow-buying. Or I had too much fucking self-respect to think of myself as a cow or something. Also, one of those guys is my current civil-union partner. In fact, if you were going by my experience and you really did want to get married at any cost to any guy, open-legged milk-giving-away would seem like quite the tactic.
But no. I’m wrong. Sam’s the expert on sex and relationships, after all, and she says: lie about your sexual intentions, string a man along for long enough and, slightly before his testicles explode from his uncontrollable sexual urges, you’ll get that engagement ring that’s a woman’s sole goal in life.
Fuck knows what happens to John Hamm after that, but I’m willing to bet he doesn’t get to poke any more boobies.