cue sarcasm
Ladies, gentlemen and those in between, I would like you all to know that I am sincerely grateful to a one Mr. Elroy Riggs. This upstanding American has found a way to end the battle of the sexes and lower the divorce rate in one foul swoop--I'm not sure if it applies to us carpet-munchers, too, but hey, why not? We can end the battle of butch vs. femme.
Riggs solution is an oldy but a goody, get the women back into the kitchen making biscuits. Lack of biscuits is, after all, what is tearing the country apart. According to Riggs, "Any woman who serves her family canned biscuits for breakfast in anything but an extreme emergency is guilty of apathy." After all, biscuits for breakfast are the ultimate symbol of love, affection, and domestic bliss.
Besides, just look at his sense of what is fair: "It is time, women of America, to come to your senses. Halt the alarming increase in the divorce rate. Bring the homemade biscuit back to your breakfast table. We can all work together. You make 'em, we'll eat 'em. What could be more fair?"
Teamwork, guys. That's all it takes. Just take a look at his original post. http://www.cknj.com/cgi-bin/storyviewnew.cgi?085+LettersLetters.2008830-5857-085-085010.Full+LettersLetters Seriously, read it. A paragon of philosophy and critical thinking in these difficult times.
Ok, so I know there are a million calls to end feminism and get women back into the kitchen and out of the office every day, but this one was so funny. Come on, man. Biscuits? The good old days? Let me just leave my right to vote at the door and finish up with this silly college nonsense while I'm at it. If I could just get a big strong man to take care of me, I wouldn't need a degree. Or a job. I could just happily cook biscuits all day. Naked, save an apron. Well, scratch that last part. Naked cooking is too much fun to be allowed in the biscuit making game.
Maybe if I'm really good, and churn my own butter to put on top of his biscuits, my future husband will give me some shopping money! I could buy myself a pretty dress. Of course, it can't cost too much, or else he'll scold me for being frivolous. I can be such a silly little thing. Good thing he only cares about whether or not I'm pretty...
Riggs solution is an oldy but a goody, get the women back into the kitchen making biscuits. Lack of biscuits is, after all, what is tearing the country apart. According to Riggs, "Any woman who serves her family canned biscuits for breakfast in anything but an extreme emergency is guilty of apathy." After all, biscuits for breakfast are the ultimate symbol of love, affection, and domestic bliss.
Besides, just look at his sense of what is fair: "It is time, women of America, to come to your senses. Halt the alarming increase in the divorce rate. Bring the homemade biscuit back to your breakfast table. We can all work together. You make 'em, we'll eat 'em. What could be more fair?"
Teamwork, guys. That's all it takes. Just take a look at his original post. http://www.cknj.com/cgi-bin/storyviewnew.cgi?085+LettersLetters.2008830-5857-085-085010.Full+LettersLetters Seriously, read it. A paragon of philosophy and critical thinking in these difficult times.
Ok, so I know there are a million calls to end feminism and get women back into the kitchen and out of the office every day, but this one was so funny. Come on, man. Biscuits? The good old days? Let me just leave my right to vote at the door and finish up with this silly college nonsense while I'm at it. If I could just get a big strong man to take care of me, I wouldn't need a degree. Or a job. I could just happily cook biscuits all day. Naked, save an apron. Well, scratch that last part. Naked cooking is too much fun to be allowed in the biscuit making game.
Maybe if I'm really good, and churn my own butter to put on top of his biscuits, my future husband will give me some shopping money! I could buy myself a pretty dress. Of course, it can't cost too much, or else he'll scold me for being frivolous. I can be such a silly little thing. Good thing he only cares about whether or not I'm pretty...