"I hate women;
They get on my nerves.
They are the Domestic ones.
They are the worst.
Every moment is packed with Happiness.
They breathe deeply
And walk with large strides, eternally hurrying home
To see about dinner.
They are the kind
Who say, with a tender smile, 'Money's not everything.'
They are always confronting me with dresses,
Saying, 'I made this myself.'
They read Woman's pages and try out the recipes.
...
I sometimes yearn to kill them.
Any jury would acquit me.
I hate Women;
They get on my nerves."
Parker, Dorothy. "Women: a Hate Song", 1925.
Stolen from here. Who are these women in 2012?
They get on my nerves.
They are the Domestic ones.
They are the worst.
Every moment is packed with Happiness.
They breathe deeply
And walk with large strides, eternally hurrying home
To see about dinner.
They are the kind
Who say, with a tender smile, 'Money's not everything.'
They are always confronting me with dresses,
Saying, 'I made this myself.'
They read Woman's pages and try out the recipes.
...
I sometimes yearn to kill them.
Any jury would acquit me.
I hate Women;
They get on my nerves."
Parker, Dorothy. "Women: a Hate Song", 1925.
Stolen from here. Who are these women in 2012?