Overheard at Work

"They're bastards. They're dogs. All of them." I looked over at the young, raven-haired beauty who had made these desparaging remarks and asked if she meant men. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she happily nodded her assent.

My first thought is that with her being young, attractive, and (guessing by her low position in my company) uneducated, she probably has a tendency to attract the charming, insecure, and more unsavory of the male species. However, am I being as unfair in my biased assessment of her as she is of the entire male race? Probably; but my own introspection is not the topic of this blog, so let's go back to the more titilating question my young coleague had unwittingly asked me to ponder. Are all men dogs? One could point out that the very thing they supposedly think about every seven seconds could be irrefutable proof that they are indeed. However, is that the whole truth to the counterpart of my female breed? Men are by their very nature protectors and the good ones want to provide for, defend, and highly praise those who would honor them with their love. In other words, if he is willing to swim through shark infested waters to bring his lady a lemonaide, then he is as loyal as any Labrodor Retriever, and unless unmarried, should not be denied his every seventh-second thought.

I wonder what my co-blogger has to say on the subject, or any of our readers, for that matter.