Once again, the girl gets it.

So, scientists plan to eliminate (the ancillary health risks from) mosquito bites by genetically removing the female mosquito from the whole damn process.

Robot gets a girlfriend.

Really?  That's where we are. Mosquitos are causing fiascos...hey, let's just get rid of the girl chromosome.   

I call "BS".  This is "Biblical Principles 101" all over again. How come we always get the blame?

God tells the woman, "Don't touch the damn fruit on the tree." Freaky (but empathetic) talking snake says, "God's just having a bad day. He's just playin'. Take all the damn fruit you want." 

 

So, God says, "Didn't I tell you to back up off my fruit?". God gets mad at the woman.

 

...who, let's just assume, didn't have a ton of experience dealing with shady snakes....

God doesn't get angry with the snake...well, not really...I mean...he got Hell and all, but...

God doesn't get angry with the man, who...actually, wait...where was Adam when all this went down, anyway?... Seriously... its not like he had an appointment for a job interview or anything. 

So typical.  Men cause the drama...but they're somehow magically "away" when you need back up...



Money?

 And God's logical solution...the logical solution...is to punish every woman ever to eternal pain and suffering and faux inferiority?

That doesn't make sense.

And so now, we're stuck with the competitive salary inequality and the sore boobs and the bleeding and the cramping and the chocolate and the random cry fests and the pushing of mutant vampiric creatures out of our bodies after they've sucked the life out of us leaving us with 18-year headaches and depression and stretch marks and husbands who are "busy job interviewing"...

And we have to like pink.  Regardless of our skin tone.

It's ridiculous.

Thanks a lot, Christians.  Nothing like insurmountable lifelong guilt.



Don't. Just...don't.

And then, wars.  Don't even get me started on wars.  Wars are escalated chest-thumping contests. "Mine is bigger than yours."  The world is overrun with leaders of the male persuasion.



If our nations were run by dames, there would be no war. Contrary to what you see on Love & Hip Hop Atlanta (interestingly, those fights are always over a man...and don't pretend you don't watch it), we ain't got time for that. We would be too busy fixing our predecessors' messes. Mending relationships with other nations. Being social. Hoping the other leaders will like us. Even if it's fake and we hate the other leaders' shoes... But never war. 

There would be no reason for social conflict. We wouldn't throw people into exile or persecute sects or proclaim genetic superiority. Well, not aloud, anyway. 

And if a leader accidentally pressed the red button,  the "offended" nation would benefit from an international trade surplus thanks to all the shiploads of flowers and cupcakes and Louboutins in apology.

About the 2k swim in Mass., I haven't quite made it beyond that 1k swim stretch. My body just doesn't seem to embrace that level of endurance. I klonk out 1 mile. By "klonk out", I mean that my arms and legs get too heavy to lift.
 

My late friend's mother knows someone who will race in my place. A guy, of course. He'll probably blast right through the finish line.  No transfers needed - I registered in her name.

I'm disappointed that I can't conquer all, but I'm excited that someone will still race in her name. And for a cure for cancer. I'm working on other ways to honor my promise.

Some friends and I acted as servers for an event where a four diamond restaurant provided two families in need with a fancy five-course dining experience.  I wanted to list the menu items here, but honestly, there was so much food, I can't remember everything...or which course they went with.  It was family style, so we brought giant plates of each item out, and helped the families sample each item.  Plus a birthday cake to celebrate one of the little girls' birthday. I saw the kids from both families talking to each other. I wonder if they'll connect again.

There were two banquet captains there to coach us and make sure we didn't break anything (me mostly). Left me pooped.