I "met" a child today. He was the son of a customer of mine. I'm not trying to say that I knew this customer well, but I knew she had children, because she had spoken of them before. Now, normally I make my judgments rather irrationally -- I'll come to hasty conclusions and then modify them as I go along. But, I've met this customer and I've met her husband. I can safely assume that since they are white it is highly improbably for them to have a black child. The fact that she introduced him as her foster child sort of helped me come to that conclusion as well.
I saw a look in the boy's eyes that ignited vivid memories of mine. "The Thousand Yard Stare" is what I've called it. You're there physically, but not mentally. Now I wasn't like that all the time, normally around that prick of a stepfather that I used to have, but when I saw that look I remembered how I used to feel.
Zoned out. It was a defense mechanism that I learned. If you didn't excite anything (positively or negatively) then normally attention wouldn't be drawn to you. I can't say the boy looked at me, because he didn't. He looked through me.
The sad thing about these foster children is that they're just placed somewhere that will take them. The people that take them can't say they're being altruistic, because they are getting paid for it, and the kids never have a whole lot to say about foster parents.
And how do these kids feel about themselves? The only member of my family that I didn't know was my father. I can't imagine not knowing my mother, father, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins. I can't imagine waking up every morning and wondering where the hell these people are, or if they even know I exist. Daydreaming about a day they come and rescue me.
And what happens after they turn 18? Well, that's when the foster parents stop getting money to take care of them. Where does an 18 year old boy or girl turn to when that happens? The military, McDonald's, the street? As tabula rasas they will more than likely turn to the street. They might get a job, but drugs are more than likely to be involved. And why? Why must another life be relegated to the streets, just because they weren't lucky enough to win the parental lottery? I don't yet have the answer.
Besides, you still need your parents after you've turned 18. My mom still needs her parents. Not so much on a physical, or financial level, but definitely an emotion level.
I've heard that it's very hard to adopt an American child. That it's much easier to go to an Asian country and adopt one of their children, because there is less red-tape, paperwork, and money involved.
But you know The Beaner Schnitzel; there has to be a cynical twist to all of this, right?
Right. If an Asian foster child grows up without parents then so what? That's China's, Japan's, Korea's, etc. problem, not ours. But what do we do when an American child grows up without parents? Without direction? Without help? Hell, even people that grow up with a little bit of love from their parents have a chance to turn to the street.
I know that deep down adopting parents believe that they're doing God's work and being altruistic. Sure, you're saving a child from a third world hell hole, but what if you saved an American child that was just as deserving?
I grew up without my father, and I don't look like my mom. I was asked at least ten times if I was adopted when I was growing up. It was embarrassing. I mean, if a white family were to adopt a white American child, or if a black family were to adopt a black American child, et cetera, then at least the child could look a little bit like their parents and not have to go through all of that garbage as well.
If you work out the steps it would make much more sense to adopt an American child, because they are more likely to have an effect on you during your lifetime.
So spend the extra time, and spend the extra money, and adopt American.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Ughs.
Okay, here's the thing... Just because you're wearing name brand shit doesn't mean you have fashion sense. Yeah, I know. The Beaner Schnitzel thinks that he's qualified to have an opinion on fashion -- I'm as perplexed as you are. While I'm not a homosexual on TLC or anything like that, I do know a few things about fashion.
Some fashion trends do good things for fashion as a whole. For example, the whole gangsta' suburban drug dealer extra wide baggy pants took us from the days of straight leg hey-look-at-my-bulge-over-here pants, left the machismo at the gated communities, and introduced baggier than average pants. Baggier than average pants are not only comfortable, but they allow a wide range of motion without looking like you're impervious to crotch rash or you have a Middle East weapons cache in taped to your quadriceps. So, yeah, that's an example of when a fashion trend has done something good.
I'm not sure if this is something that I see more often than most because I live in the Winter Wonderland known as Michigan, but there is a new trend that makes people (women) think that when they wear boots (UGGs and the such) they can put their jeans INSIDE of their boots.
...
No? Nothing yet?
Think back to the school playground. It's winter time. The air is thin and smells like water. No matter where you cast your gaze on the playground the Sun reflects brightly off the crisp snow. Your cheeks are cold to the touch. Your hands can barely grasp anything -- an unwanted side effect of snowball fights. With each step you can hear the crunch of snow beneath your feet.
You look across the way at the jungle gym. You look at Bubble Butt Bobby. Bubble Butt Bobby spoke with a lisp and always carried the faint scent of urine. You notice that he's wearing the same black slim cut Levi's that he has worn all year. Your eye travels down his leg and you see the generic spaceman plastic snow boots that everybody's parents bought for them.
What's this? His jeans are tucked into his boots?
"HEY, BUBBLE BUTT BOBBY?! WHY DO YOU TUCK YOUR JEANS INTO YOUR BOOTS?"
Bubble Butt Bobby didn't say anything back. You knew why. Bubble Butt Bobby was borderline retarded, as was evidenced by tucking his jeans into his boots. Why would anyone want to tuck their jeans INTO their boots? What the hell does that do?
The whole purpose of snow boots is to keep the fucking snow off your feet. Right? RIGHT? Okay, as long as you're with me on that.
Now think about this for a second. If you wanted to KEEP THE FUCKING SNOW OFF YOUR FEET would you (A) tuck your jeans INTO your boots like a mouth-breathing neanderthal, or (B) pull your jeans OVER your boots to demonstrate that your IQ is 100. A standard deviation of fifteen points is assumed, of course.
That's right: your choice would be B.
So please explain to me why these otherwise fashionably conscious women are tucking their stupid fucking jeans into their stupid fucking over-priced boots. Why?
It's because some dumb motherfucker that was deemed fashionable did it first so now everyone is doing it. Seriously? Jeans into boots? You've got to be kidding me.
Do yourself a favor and pull your fuckin' jeans over your boots -- the way God intended.
Some fashion trends do good things for fashion as a whole. For example, the whole gangsta' suburban drug dealer extra wide baggy pants took us from the days of straight leg hey-look-at-my-bulge-over-here pants, left the machismo at the gated communities, and introduced baggier than average pants. Baggier than average pants are not only comfortable, but they allow a wide range of motion without looking like you're impervious to crotch rash or you have a Middle East weapons cache in taped to your quadriceps. So, yeah, that's an example of when a fashion trend has done something good.
I'm not sure if this is something that I see more often than most because I live in the Winter Wonderland known as Michigan, but there is a new trend that makes people (women) think that when they wear boots (UGGs and the such) they can put their jeans INSIDE of their boots.
...
No? Nothing yet?
Think back to the school playground. It's winter time. The air is thin and smells like water. No matter where you cast your gaze on the playground the Sun reflects brightly off the crisp snow. Your cheeks are cold to the touch. Your hands can barely grasp anything -- an unwanted side effect of snowball fights. With each step you can hear the crunch of snow beneath your feet.
You look across the way at the jungle gym. You look at Bubble Butt Bobby. Bubble Butt Bobby spoke with a lisp and always carried the faint scent of urine. You notice that he's wearing the same black slim cut Levi's that he has worn all year. Your eye travels down his leg and you see the generic spaceman plastic snow boots that everybody's parents bought for them.
What's this? His jeans are tucked into his boots?
"HEY, BUBBLE BUTT BOBBY?! WHY DO YOU TUCK YOUR JEANS INTO YOUR BOOTS?"
Bubble Butt Bobby didn't say anything back. You knew why. Bubble Butt Bobby was borderline retarded, as was evidenced by tucking his jeans into his boots. Why would anyone want to tuck their jeans INTO their boots? What the hell does that do?
The whole purpose of snow boots is to keep the fucking snow off your feet. Right? RIGHT? Okay, as long as you're with me on that.
Now think about this for a second. If you wanted to KEEP THE FUCKING SNOW OFF YOUR FEET would you (A) tuck your jeans INTO your boots like a mouth-breathing neanderthal, or (B) pull your jeans OVER your boots to demonstrate that your IQ is 100. A standard deviation of fifteen points is assumed, of course.
That's right: your choice would be B.
So please explain to me why these otherwise fashionably conscious women are tucking their stupid fucking jeans into their stupid fucking over-priced boots. Why?
It's because some dumb motherfucker that was deemed fashionable did it first so now everyone is doing it. Seriously? Jeans into boots? You've got to be kidding me.
Do yourself a favor and pull your fuckin' jeans over your boots -- the way God intended.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
I <3 Retail!
Most of the things that we sell here in the store I can fix. I have been given directions and wiring schematics on how to fix them. However, there are some things in the store that we give away as gifts that I can't fix, because we weren't given directions or wiring schematics. Let's couple that with the fact that I'm not an electrician and sometimes you're just going to be shit out of luck when you're FREE gift that was given to you over FIVE YEARS ago shits the bed.
It's not that this really bothers me on a personal level. I know that when the turds that come in here start screaming at me they're screaming at the position and not the person (::rolls eyes::). I understand that I guess.
On the other hand, I don't understand how someone can get so worked up over something so insignificant. How many real problems are lacking in a person's life if they start shaking and screaming over something that was given to them for free? And when I say shaking and screaming I truly mean shaking and screaming.
I gotta tell you, I enjoy watching these people lose their cool over this stuff. Of course I don't show it on my face (I'm renowned for my expressionless face when people start getting huffy and puffy, which probably pisses them off more), but I'm usually studying them. Watching their every twitch, scoff, head jerk, lip purse -- everything.
Their piercing words and threatening body language is actually a recipe for an extremely violent situation. One of these days a pissy customer that has no reason to complain will start screaming at the wrong person and the shit will hit the fan.
Don't think that what I just said is a veiled threat. I'm no danger to these people. They can take it out on me all they want. I'll just blankly stare at them while they realize how fucking stupid they look.
By the way, if you're the type of person that thinks that if you start stomping and swearing in a store you'll get what you want, you're no better than a four year old. Or if you're the middle-manager that would like to tell me that I didn't take the time to explain our company's rules and policies, best practices, or other corporate asshole buzzwords, you're so far detached from the front lines that you have no right getting involved.
But, you know, I've finally figured out what gets these people to explode. They believe that the person behind the counter won't retaliate. Don't believe me? The next time you see someone screaming at a retail clerk over anything ask yourself if that same person would talk like that to the clerk if they were out on the street. The answer is no. They wouldn't. Ever.
It's not that this really bothers me on a personal level. I know that when the turds that come in here start screaming at me they're screaming at the position and not the person (::rolls eyes::). I understand that I guess.
On the other hand, I don't understand how someone can get so worked up over something so insignificant. How many real problems are lacking in a person's life if they start shaking and screaming over something that was given to them for free? And when I say shaking and screaming I truly mean shaking and screaming.
I gotta tell you, I enjoy watching these people lose their cool over this stuff. Of course I don't show it on my face (I'm renowned for my expressionless face when people start getting huffy and puffy, which probably pisses them off more), but I'm usually studying them. Watching their every twitch, scoff, head jerk, lip purse -- everything.
Their piercing words and threatening body language is actually a recipe for an extremely violent situation. One of these days a pissy customer that has no reason to complain will start screaming at the wrong person and the shit will hit the fan.
Don't think that what I just said is a veiled threat. I'm no danger to these people. They can take it out on me all they want. I'll just blankly stare at them while they realize how fucking stupid they look.
By the way, if you're the type of person that thinks that if you start stomping and swearing in a store you'll get what you want, you're no better than a four year old. Or if you're the middle-manager that would like to tell me that I didn't take the time to explain our company's rules and policies, best practices, or other corporate asshole buzzwords, you're so far detached from the front lines that you have no right getting involved.
But, you know, I've finally figured out what gets these people to explode. They believe that the person behind the counter won't retaliate. Don't believe me? The next time you see someone screaming at a retail clerk over anything ask yourself if that same person would talk like that to the clerk if they were out on the street. The answer is no. They wouldn't. Ever.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Stop Buying American
First and foremost: Sorry for the hiatus. Deal with it.
Secondly: Stop buying American -- I'm serious, and here's why.
Back in the day it used to matter if something was made in America. I distinctly remember all kinds of nicknacks, appliances, and even complete cars that were manufactured and assembled in these United States. When you went shopping you wanted to weed through the cheaply made plastic shit from Asia and the quality American made stuff to make sure you got your money's worth. Why? Two reasons: (1) your red, white, and blue brothers made that for you to enjoy it, and (2)it kept your money in America, which is a very simplified way of saying it won't create a trade deficit.
However, that was a thing of the past and we are in the here and now. And here and now most of our shit is made in China. To that end, China will continue to make cheap shit for us until the Great Chain of Economic Being is completely shattered, i.e. our politicians get their heads out of their asses, or China tries to attack us or vice versa.
THEREFORE, and try to stick with me because this shit is gonna get so mind blowingly easy you'll wire $350 to my PayPal account, you need to buy local. Here's an example: Name a product that is wholly manufactured and assembled in the United States of America. ... ? No, you're wrong. The only products completely manufactured and assembled in the USA are made by women with beards.
So what do we do about this, O Beaner Schnitzel? You buy local. Sure, you're still buying cheap Chinese shit, but now you are supporting your local stores. And by supporting your local stores you are paying the wages of the people that impact you the most -- the ones that live next door. Don't send away on the Intertubes for that LQQK NIB GIANT PURPLE DILDO LOT OF 12... Go to your friendly neighborhood dildo emporium and pick one up in person.
I've found that there is generally two reasons why people don't buy local.
1: They're too much of a fucking fat ass to get off their cellulite-ridden backside to walk down to the store and get it for themselves. This type of person sits on their derriere all day and collects Social Security and welfare benefits, but I digress...
2: They have this baseless idea that since they can get their dildos off the Internet at a cheaper price it is actually better for them to do so. Nothing makes me want to eat barbiturates as if they were Smarties than this argument. True, in the short term you will be saving yourself money if you purchase the dildo that's $3 cheaper online than down at your local emporium, but what about the long-term effects? You've kept that three dollars out of your economy, your tax system, and have taken money out of your neighbors' pay check.
Let's not forget to mention that you and all your fat fucking friends buy their dildos off the Internet, so it is likely that entire businesses have to close down due to lack of customers. Now that businesses have closed down, the State realizes that it's losing money because it is generating less revenue from its business taxes, so it raises your income and property taxes, and so on and so forth.
So in the end I hope you enjoy the three fucking dollars you saved on the cheap Chinese dildo you bought on the Interwebs... Congratulations, you're a fucking retard that should have bought locally.
Secondly: Stop buying American -- I'm serious, and here's why.
Back in the day it used to matter if something was made in America. I distinctly remember all kinds of nicknacks, appliances, and even complete cars that were manufactured and assembled in these United States. When you went shopping you wanted to weed through the cheaply made plastic shit from Asia and the quality American made stuff to make sure you got your money's worth. Why? Two reasons: (1) your red, white, and blue brothers made that for you to enjoy it, and (2)it kept your money in America, which is a very simplified way of saying it won't create a trade deficit.
However, that was a thing of the past and we are in the here and now. And here and now most of our shit is made in China. To that end, China will continue to make cheap shit for us until the Great Chain of Economic Being is completely shattered, i.e. our politicians get their heads out of their asses, or China tries to attack us or vice versa.
THEREFORE, and try to stick with me because this shit is gonna get so mind blowingly easy you'll wire $350 to my PayPal account, you need to buy local. Here's an example: Name a product that is wholly manufactured and assembled in the United States of America. ... ? No, you're wrong. The only products completely manufactured and assembled in the USA are made by women with beards.
So what do we do about this, O Beaner Schnitzel? You buy local. Sure, you're still buying cheap Chinese shit, but now you are supporting your local stores. And by supporting your local stores you are paying the wages of the people that impact you the most -- the ones that live next door. Don't send away on the Intertubes for that LQQK NIB GIANT PURPLE DILDO LOT OF 12... Go to your friendly neighborhood dildo emporium and pick one up in person.
I've found that there is generally two reasons why people don't buy local.
1: They're too much of a fucking fat ass to get off their cellulite-ridden backside to walk down to the store and get it for themselves. This type of person sits on their derriere all day and collects Social Security and welfare benefits, but I digress...
2: They have this baseless idea that since they can get their dildos off the Internet at a cheaper price it is actually better for them to do so. Nothing makes me want to eat barbiturates as if they were Smarties than this argument. True, in the short term you will be saving yourself money if you purchase the dildo that's $3 cheaper online than down at your local emporium, but what about the long-term effects? You've kept that three dollars out of your economy, your tax system, and have taken money out of your neighbors' pay check.
Let's not forget to mention that you and all your fat fucking friends buy their dildos off the Internet, so it is likely that entire businesses have to close down due to lack of customers. Now that businesses have closed down, the State realizes that it's losing money because it is generating less revenue from its business taxes, so it raises your income and property taxes, and so on and so forth.
So in the end I hope you enjoy the three fucking dollars you saved on the cheap Chinese dildo you bought on the Interwebs... Congratulations, you're a fucking retard that should have bought locally.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
If you fail to plan, you plan to fail....
It's once again time to become a hermit. I have fourteen credit hours this semester: Western Civilization, Criminal Law, Criminal Investigations, Kick Boxing, and Sociology of Minority Groups. To top it off I will still be working full time. That seems like a lot, right? It's really not. I don't mind; I enjoy being busy. It proves that someday all of this education and hard work will allow me to make more than $8.50 an hour. Not to mention that I went to school full time and worked full time last year and got a 4.0 my Fall semester, and a 3.97 my Winter semester.
Furthermore, I don't work that many hours, take that many classes, and still get good grades because I go to a community college. My professors have professional degrees just like any other institution. It's all about how you go about doing it.
You do need to make some sacrifices. You can't get sloppy drunk every weekend. You're gonna have to cut down some time with your friends (it's hard for them to understand, but they get over it), and you're gonna have to find a quiet spot for you to study.
You'll also need a planner. In middle and high schools our teachers and administrators would dole out these stupid little planners and expect us to write down our homework assignments in them. Their hearts were in the right places, but it wasn't fully thought out -- even in high school I was only assigned about once a week. What the fuck was I supposed to write in the other days?
However, in college, you can write down when you have your classes, when the assignments are due, your errands, chores, bills that need to be paid, and even plan out your study time. When I write down everything I need to do I still find about an hour and a half before I go to bed that can be used for chilling out. On the other hand, if you don't plan your time you wait until the last minute to do what needs to be done, because everything else is grabbing your attention.
College isn't the logical choice for most people. Some go into the military for their direction, others go directly into the work force. However, if college is your choice you need to take it seriously. Don't just get in and deal with it because mommy and daddy write a check every semester. With the increasing bifurcation of our society, you need to make sure that you will be a member of the bourgeoisie, not the proletariat.
If you're not in college, or are all done with it, but still can't seem to find some time to yourself you need to give the planner a try. You'll be amazed when you realize how much time you've wasted over the years.
Furthermore, I don't work that many hours, take that many classes, and still get good grades because I go to a community college. My professors have professional degrees just like any other institution. It's all about how you go about doing it.
You do need to make some sacrifices. You can't get sloppy drunk every weekend. You're gonna have to cut down some time with your friends (it's hard for them to understand, but they get over it), and you're gonna have to find a quiet spot for you to study.
You'll also need a planner. In middle and high schools our teachers and administrators would dole out these stupid little planners and expect us to write down our homework assignments in them. Their hearts were in the right places, but it wasn't fully thought out -- even in high school I was only assigned about once a week. What the fuck was I supposed to write in the other days?
However, in college, you can write down when you have your classes, when the assignments are due, your errands, chores, bills that need to be paid, and even plan out your study time. When I write down everything I need to do I still find about an hour and a half before I go to bed that can be used for chilling out. On the other hand, if you don't plan your time you wait until the last minute to do what needs to be done, because everything else is grabbing your attention.
College isn't the logical choice for most people. Some go into the military for their direction, others go directly into the work force. However, if college is your choice you need to take it seriously. Don't just get in and deal with it because mommy and daddy write a check every semester. With the increasing bifurcation of our society, you need to make sure that you will be a member of the bourgeoisie, not the proletariat.
If you're not in college, or are all done with it, but still can't seem to find some time to yourself you need to give the planner a try. You'll be amazed when you realize how much time you've wasted over the years.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
I pity the fool...
That can't enjoy some good shore fishing.
There are some out there that need one of these vessels of elitism known as "boats" to enjoy fishing.
Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy boat fishing as well, but sometimes a boat is a pain in the ass... You have to have a trailer to put it on, a truck to haul it, and at least one competent friend to help you launch it, and put it back on the trailer when you're done. Let's not forget $300 to put gas in the fucking thing.
So, if you're like The Beaner Schnitzel, you live in more simpler times. You grab a pole, and either walk or drive your happy ass down to the river. In our case, the Saginaw River.
Sure, pretty much the only thing you can catch in the Saginaw River is catfish, sheepshead, and Herpes Type II, but who could ask for anything more? The catfish are plentiful, the sheepshead put up a good fight, and I'm pretty sure they have pills for that other thing you could catch.
But it's different when you're fishing off the shore -- especially a shore smack dab in the middle of a city. It's peaceful, yet busy. You're on cruise control while the townies drive by. Almost oblivious to the fact that they could be down there with you having their own vacation as well.
You can also get a wicked sweet tan. Yes, that is my forearm up against my bicep.
Check out the photo album.
There are some out there that need one of these vessels of elitism known as "boats" to enjoy fishing.
Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy boat fishing as well, but sometimes a boat is a pain in the ass... You have to have a trailer to put it on, a truck to haul it, and at least one competent friend to help you launch it, and put it back on the trailer when you're done. Let's not forget $300 to put gas in the fucking thing.
So, if you're like The Beaner Schnitzel, you live in more simpler times. You grab a pole, and either walk or drive your happy ass down to the river. In our case, the Saginaw River.
Sure, pretty much the only thing you can catch in the Saginaw River is catfish, sheepshead, and Herpes Type II, but who could ask for anything more? The catfish are plentiful, the sheepshead put up a good fight, and I'm pretty sure they have pills for that other thing you could catch.
But it's different when you're fishing off the shore -- especially a shore smack dab in the middle of a city. It's peaceful, yet busy. You're on cruise control while the townies drive by. Almost oblivious to the fact that they could be down there with you having their own vacation as well.
You can also get a wicked sweet tan. Yes, that is my forearm up against my bicep.
Check out the photo album.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Where do all the hot chicks go?
I'm not sure if this is something that is just Midwest-specific, but I have noticed an incredible phenomenon lately.
As you all know, your trusted Beaner Schnitzel pays attention to everything. I don't need to have sex with the dead horse anymore. Or is it "beat the dead horse?" Either way my back is starting to hurt.
As I'm driving in my car I like to look at the other drivers. The stuff you'll see is amazing. You can find people screaming at their children, drinking alcohol, and having sex with dead horses, to name a few. However, I just realized within the past week that you see more hot chicks as the weather gets warmer.
What causes this? What makes the hot chicks come out in warm weather? On the contrary, what makes said hot chicks hermits in cold weather?
Since I got a 99 (out of a possible 100, I'm sure) on my IQ test I was able to figure out the answer as soon as I asked myself.
I'm a leg man. Tits; meh. Asses; they're okay at best. Nothing gets me more excited than a nice pair of thighs. A woman with a set of supple thighs makes me want to run to her and squeeze them as if they were the safety spot in a game of tag and the ugly girl with the overbite is on my heels.
What do hot chicks like to wear in warm weather? Skirts, mini of course. Skirts are the best article of clothing ever invented. They allow the woman to move freely throughout the day, and they allow the man to ogle and objectify her as a piece of meat, just like God intended.
Now I know there are some guys out there that like to say that they prefer booties to boobies, or vice versa. But the fact is that every man with a wiener that works can't deny the power of a thigh.
The women know this. How could they not? What is a woman's purpose in life? To please men (note the plural), obviously.
Can a woman wear a miniskirt in cold weather? Well, she would, if she knew what were good for her. However, there is this silly little thing called "frost bite" that stops women from baring too much skin in winter. They tell you, "No, I can't wear a miniskirt today! It's only seven degrees outside!" Bullshit.
I bet this "frost bite" malarkey was made up by a woman. I should look into that...
As you all know, your trusted Beaner Schnitzel pays attention to everything. I don't need to have sex with the dead horse anymore. Or is it "beat the dead horse?" Either way my back is starting to hurt.
As I'm driving in my car I like to look at the other drivers. The stuff you'll see is amazing. You can find people screaming at their children, drinking alcohol, and having sex with dead horses, to name a few. However, I just realized within the past week that you see more hot chicks as the weather gets warmer.
What causes this? What makes the hot chicks come out in warm weather? On the contrary, what makes said hot chicks hermits in cold weather?
Since I got a 99 (out of a possible 100, I'm sure) on my IQ test I was able to figure out the answer as soon as I asked myself.
I'm a leg man. Tits; meh. Asses; they're okay at best. Nothing gets me more excited than a nice pair of thighs. A woman with a set of supple thighs makes me want to run to her and squeeze them as if they were the safety spot in a game of tag and the ugly girl with the overbite is on my heels.
What do hot chicks like to wear in warm weather? Skirts, mini of course. Skirts are the best article of clothing ever invented. They allow the woman to move freely throughout the day, and they allow the man to ogle and objectify her as a piece of meat, just like God intended.
Now I know there are some guys out there that like to say that they prefer booties to boobies, or vice versa. But the fact is that every man with a wiener that works can't deny the power of a thigh.
The women know this. How could they not? What is a woman's purpose in life? To please men (note the plural), obviously.
Can a woman wear a miniskirt in cold weather? Well, she would, if she knew what were good for her. However, there is this silly little thing called "frost bite" that stops women from baring too much skin in winter. They tell you, "No, I can't wear a miniskirt today! It's only seven degrees outside!" Bullshit.
I bet this "frost bite" malarkey was made up by a woman. I should look into that...
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