“Wimmin”
By Jack Andrews.
The ever perplexing, never understanding, and most ancient of mysteries—Woman—is still with us. With but slight variations she is today the same enigma as were her predecessors running back to the beginning of time.
The modern man starts out just about as the cave man did, only he believes he is more accomplished, and capable of penetrating the veil that men of vast experience in dealing with the “deadlier sex,” associate with the Unknown Origin.
It is the incertitude of what Woman will do that brings out the gambling spirit in all of us, makes wise men of some of us, and pessimists of the rest of us.
When you find this type of pessimist, a man who breaks out the hammer as the talk tends toward women—wild and otherwise—just jot it down in your little note book that at some time in his life a little bubble of conceit was pierced by a woman, and a man failed to measure up to the requirements.
There is another class of supposedly male beings who continually rant about the women. They usually exhibit a holier-than-thou attitude when the pleasures of a woman’s society are mentioned, and denounce them as contributors to the undoing of man. They boast of a virtue that stamps them as impotents, superinduced by their own follies, and makes of them living hypocrites, ashamed to acknowledge the truth.
A man who boasts of “never a thought of women” will certainly not be molested by REAL women.