After two months of laying siege on the opposite sex in my “Female Code” commentary, I am fortifying my home against the eminent and insidious attack of lady Gagagozilla. She and her legions of shape-shifting shadows of horror are surely coming my way.
Let’s face it – you ladies are beasts. When men fight we punch each other till one screams “uncle!” When women fight, every limb, fingernail, tooth and body part goes into action. No quarter is given. It reminds me of the Tasmanian Devil in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons, complete with spinning and spitting and unrecognizable speech. Or, maybe that’s Linda Blair I’m thinking about. I don’t recall since I am AARP eligible and things are slipping. It’s my excuse and I am sticking to it. But this isn’t about me it’s about you ladies; it has always been about you or you go all “Fatal Attraction’ on us. Poor Bugs Bunny, I cried at that scene. Now if you are a well-endowed female shadow of horror you are a Mega Gagagozilla. You use those weapons to place men into trances before you squash us or incinerate us to a Swiffer pile of dust. “Uncle, uncle!”
I recall a scene from the campy monster movie days of my youth where Godzilla introduces a son. What? I am just now realizing this fact. So where’s Mama ‘zilla? Hence, Lady Gagagozilla. She’s never been brought out into society and she is surely getting ticked about it, wanting to go all ‘Carrie’ on us. She’s missed out on the prom, the raising of her son, an idol spot, and all the movie revenue rights. I see a lawsuit coming. Most of all she has read my first two editions of the Female Code and wrath is on her peanut sized mind. She is out to redeem her sex against my attempt to understand this thing called “Woman” and break the secret code that will lead me to write the best selling book of all time – “Paradise Lost – Found on Aisle 9, Bargain Rack.”
But what do I use do defend myself and my sex? Well, frankly my sex has already run off for the hills. They tried to warn me not to wage war. Should I use coffee, chocolate, Pina Coladas, diamonds, gold – what the heck can save me? Then it dawned on me – Keith Urban. I will capture him, tie him to a stake at the edge of the cracks of Mount Doom and just wait for lady Gagagozilla to go goofy and giddy and rush to him. They will both fall into the fires and be consumed forever. Sorry Keith I needed a sacrifice. There is one thing I have learned about the Female Code though. Put long hair on a guy, strap a guitar to his chest, sing some silly words about “Tonight I’m Going to Cry” and they lose all grasp of reality. I observed this about my wife at his concert and I have it documented in my siege strategy book. Plus, it demoralizes the female hordes when their idols are slain.
Unfortunately for me, there are other ghastly hordes of beasts changing shapes in the shadows like a Weight Watchers convention, that I have not encountered yet, namely my wife if she reads this. My plan is to just simply run for the hills and become a monk like my male comrades. Can I outrun her? “Just Watch Me!”
Alright, ladies, fire away. Who said writing fantasy can’t be fun?
