Monday, August 7, 2017



Now really, this poor, sad fellow who worked at Google, (and if that isn't the stupidest name for a company, I don't know what is.) who actually ISN'T at The GOO FACTORY anymore because he is a man and not in the least subtle. Sad, really, but frankly he seems far too bright to work at the GOO FACTORY, because what he said actually made sense.

Anyhow, he opined how women were physiologically and psychologically different from men and, well, he might just as well have shown up for work with green hair and wearing his underwear, instead of his usual suit and tie. Only kidding, I'm sure green hair and skivvies are the required standard dress code at the GOO FACTORY. 

Here's the real scoop. I went to a coed high school, and we were all very well behaved ladies and gentlemen, well, by today's standards, anyway. My son has been to parties where people peed on other people's furniture and thought it was funny and many other disgusting things that are exactly what you'd expect from people with purple and green hair who wear their pj's to work. 

BUT, I went to Barnard College, when it was the all girl college of Columbia University, one of the 7 Sisters, Ivy league school. And I will remind you that the same number of girls applied to Barnard as men applied to Columbia, but Barnard only took half as many girls. So, do the math, if you can, it was twice as hard to get into Barnard as to get into Columbia. We were much smarter than the men and we knew it. Besides, we were also much prettier, even without make up. Men just aren't pretty, are they? With the exception of George Clooney, but a man that pretty just isn't normal, is it?

There were a few general classes, like Meteorology 101, and that kind of no brainer class, that men were allowed to register for to complete their science requirement. So it was really interesting to have men in the classroom again, after the glorious freedom of all girl classes. And it was astounding, and then hilarious.

The thing was when the professor asked a question, we girls always regarded it as more or less rhetorical, the professor was asking it just to make us think a little more deeply about some interesting problem. We all sat quietly and pondered the question. However, the men assumed that it was some sort of competition to see who knew the answer and who could get called on first to say their answer. There they all were, leaning forward, waving their hands in the air practically leaping out of their seats.

I mean, oh come on! Didn't these guys realize this was college? What fond, but pitying glances we  girls exchanged, shaking our heads to each other in sad forbearance at such absurd and childish behavior. Men, sweet, silly, thoughtless little puppies, so sure that to come up with an answer and to be called upon was the sine qua non of existence. 

We girls all knew and had always known, because two XX chromosomes make all the difference, don't you know, that life was much deeper, more ethically and morally challenging, more profound than anything anyone was likely to learn in a college classroom. But we studied, we aced it, just like the men, and we even had time left over to devise ways to get shiny swinging hair, defying the curls or limp lifeless strands we were stuck with. We poured over fashion magazines for ways to turn our figures, whatever they were, into sirenacious sex appeal. And this was not to please men, but to con them into marrying us and becoming slaves for life. I mean, come on? Girls today are clueless. They seem to think girls look good because of the patriarchy or some silly nonsense.

No, the way it's supposed to work is the smarter sex subdues the weaker sex into working their butts off to create a life of ease, all while doing her nails, talking on the phone and shopping. Duh!

I'm sure the poor fellow who got fired from the GOO FACTORY was one of those dear chaps who only wants to spend his days with his nose to the grindstone doing algorithms, his evenings with his loving his wife, eating his dinner in peace, and his Saturday's figuring out how to motorize his son's skateboard or make a few extra bucks with his newly designed fish finder. 

I mean I like Google as much as the next person, but don't get between me and my favorite shoe store, buddy, or you're friggin toast. 

The GOO FACTORY and their blue haired ilk are so boringly over. I mean, COME ON??? 

(Can you tell I'm a French "vive la difference" fan? Casterline? Yeah, Huguenots, but that was about 300 years ago, so the fact that I love fashion, wine and gourmet cooking may just be accidental, but to be oversexed is perhaps a genetic predisposition that I'm simply stuck with. In my day, it was said that England produced sexy men and France produced sexy women. But what did we know back then? I can tell you what I didn't know, I didn't know the gender of oiseau, maison or any French noun. Only the French would care if a table was masculine or feminine. I mean come on! However, I want to make it clear that I personally have always preferred American men; they are smarter, better looking and way cooler than anything Europe or anywhere else ever produced. )