Hideous creatures, aren’t they?  Why not herd them up like landfill waste and bury the lot?  At least we will be spared the visual assault.

Oh, don’t bother protesting!  You might be able to convince the liberal neighbors with your self-righteous opinions, but you can’t fool me.  You’re revolted by the sight of aging women and frankly, I don’t blame you.  Sagging flesh should be a felony offense.   Concealing it beneath Spanx and push-up bras is false advertising.  Women should have the decency to remove themselves from the market once their charms have faded.

What’s more nauseating than women who don’t know their place?  By now, it should be obvious that their roles are limited and they ought stick to the rules. . . if they know what’s good for ’em.   It’s just too bad, isn’t it, that they continue to prance around like teen girls.  Haven’t they looked in a mirror lately?  No one in their right mind would confuse them with properly attractive females.  What a pity they haven’t learned to stop flirting; they are a public embarrassment.

So what if the only jobs left to them are charwoman, nursemaid and breadwinner?  They should be grateful to have those!  Someone has to pay the bills and clean up.   And while we’re at it, why don’t we cut out their tongues?  Then we won’t be subject to their endless complaints.  Who wants to hear the whining and bitching of an old hag past her prime?  Not me!  I’d much rather listen to the empty stories of male prowess; they’re so much more riveting.


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