Women, Explosives, and Plastic Manufactures

Night and day a man wants either a good woman or a good beer. A man wants someone or something to escape into. Oh, but women, what a licentious vice! Maybe if there were more like the lovely Louise Michel, than we would all be better off. In general women can become the bane of revolutions.
It is not their fault, as I have cited earlier there are the Louise Michels of the world, and every revolution could use a woman like that. She had more spirit than most of the men. Oh there was Rosa Luxembourg too, she was another brilliant radical. These are not the women young girls are taught to look up to or respect. The country lacks good revolutionary images for most people in fact. Children aren’t raised with images of Robespierre, or the Marque de Sade, because of all the removing of the heads of the bourgeois. I personally wouldn’t be bothered too much seeing their heads roll.
See the Barbie and Ken Doll image is what they sell to children. It’s a real rip off. Barbie is plastic and blonde and if she gets to close to an open flame she will melt. Now trust me, I may not have the best taste in women, but I know something that should be pretty universally accepted, if it melts it ain’t good.
Lovely Louise Michel on the other hand was famous for her skill with a Molotov. As lovely as she was violent, rallying the communards as the vile Theirs Army was exterminating the beautiful commune. What I would give for a beautiful woman who spoke fine French, and was handy with a Molotov cocktail.
Instead the women I see these days are enslaved. They are told fairy tales, and as soon as it’s too late they figure out what is going on. Fairy princess Barbie becomes Xanax-Shopahollic Barbie. She gets knocked up by some hyper muscular jock, and slowly her beauty fades. First from the childbirth, then the pills, next the abuse and finally pretty plastic Barbie is sagged and ugly. Barbie melted. Ken is fat, and their children repeat the same cycle. What a shame.
At least Barbie landed a man with a big…. Wallet. Which won’t work so well after the years of binge drinking and that thing he picked up from that hooker that one time he has meant to tell her about. The beautiful American dream. It puts a warm feeling in your stomach doesn’t it? Or maybe that’s just an ulcer?