03 June 2011 by Published in: Uncategorized No comments yet

For I’m sure I’ll just swoon any second now. That’s what we lady writers do. Sentimental-that’s what we are, apparently. No woman writer is ‘the literary match’ of a certain (and I use this term loosely) gentleman. For as we are not the head of a household, this comes across in our utterly feeble and inferior writings. Apparently, so obivious are our deficiencies, that within a paragraph or two of reading, Naipaul can tell whether or not it was written by a woman.

Are we doing something wrong? Should we make it more evident that we are lady writers?

How about those tampons, girls, am i right?

Miss Austen wrote that angry people are not always wise, but statements like the ones made my Naipaul make half of the population pretty angry. Although since we’re sooo sentimental, perhaps we should just get upset instead.

Maybe we should just go over into this corner and cry under our parasols because we are so totally eclipsed by his majesty and then talk about our feelings as we eat cake.
jane might not have been a Nobel Prize winner, but lets see whose books are still on the Classics shelves in 200 years time. The hearts and minds of the entire world, generation after generation for two centuries can only be captured by a truly superior writer.

My money’s on Miss Austen, but until the bet is settled, I’ll just get back to my tea party, shall I?

Wow, those bras ladies- they’re pretty crazy. What’s up with them?


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