Last Year's Model

Girls such as myself face a new enemy...a threat to our survival, a challenge to our existance. And the name of that threat is the bimbo. Clever, lady-like, witty are good descriptors of what is apparently "out" in a female these days. Apparently our ability to discuss current events and sports and drink a beer without wailing the college mating call of "Oh gawd...I'm sooooo drunk. I'm soooo drunk" (which isnt' even in our vocabulary thankyouverymuch) has fallen out of favor with the men-folk. It seems that now a pair of tits in a tight tank top and a heavy, heavy asskissing is now the way to snare favor. For those keeping a scorecard note that sitting with spread legs and cackling like a hyena is now all the rage. Note, however, that keen social commentary and having the testicular fortitude to disagree with a man is not. I don't loathe the bimbo because I am jealous of the attention she gets, I loathe her because she makes it difficult for guys-gals to enjoy an evening with friends. Try holding a conversation with someone getting a lapdance...that's kind of what it's like when a bimbo is near. Then again, I guess I'm just bitter that suddenly all of the hard work I've put into being cool, intelligent, and witty is suddenly invalided by a bluthering idiot with her tits hanging out. I'm last year's model but I don't think I'm going to take it. Are you?