The American divorce rate still hovers in the 50-60% range, with women initiating divorces 75% of the time. The divorce rate between American men and foreign women is about 19%.

Funnily enough, a lot of young American men are simply eschewing marriage with American women.

I see a lot of frantic, arrogant, nasty women in the mid-20s to mid-50s range wondering why they can’t find a mate.

Here’s a hint, ladies. According to “Esquire,” the absolute primo number one quality desired by American men who replied to their most recent poll is loyalty/faithfulness (47%). This is followed by intelligence (15%), friendliness, and personality (27% combined).

What this says is that if you’re a bright, good-natured, engaging woman who stands by her man, you have the pick of the litter of about 89% of the available male population.

Testosterone may be on the decline for the time being. But I’m thinking that Femmicommie America has much more to worry about in the long run.

Thanks to the myths and propaganda of Steinemized feminism, all these You-Can-Have-It-All women from the boomer era are discovering, in fact, that what they end up with is nothing at all.

Ladies, we don’t want you stupid. Speaking for myself, I would love to be able to work a satisfying but not especially remunerative second-income job. I like kids—other people’s for preference. I prefer them broken in.

And I’m not that unusual. But I got tired a long time ago of women who expected some combination of Superman and Clark Kent all at once. I’m not from Krypton. I do have some self-respect, however, and I prefer isolation to being the beta half of a relationship.

If Maureen Dowd is listening in here, hey, I’m 33, looking good despite my damage, can do Bohemian chic quite well, and have been both formally educated and self-educated in any number of topics. I scrub well enough for cocktail parties and, oh yeah, I dig redheads.

Just don’t expect me to say, “Ooohhh, nobody scribbles columns like you, baby!” when you toss off some trivial piece of smack. I’m gonna lay it on you if you don’t live up to your abilities. I don’t care if you are making the big bucks.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I rather like the idea of hitching my cart to a woman who makes big bucks. But if you’re working in my field, the world of words, well honey, you better expect that I’ll be the toughest critic you’ve ever faced.

Not because I want to see you fail, but because I want you to succeed.

And if someone asks me to review “Are Men Necessary?” you better believe I’m gonna pan it. I’m gonna wonder what would happen if a columnist working for a major daily wrote a book titled “Are Women Necessary?” or “Are Jews Necessary?”. It’ll be rhetorical, because what I’ll say is that they’d be fired.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t love you in the morning.

—Graham Strouse

The American divorce rate still hovers in the 50-60% range, with women initiating divorces 75% of the time. The divorce rate between American men and foreign women is about 19%.

Funnily enough, a lot of young American men are simply eschewing marriage with American women.

I see a lot of frantic, arrogant, nasty women in the mid-20s to mid-50s range wondering why they can’t find a mate.

Here’s a hint, ladies. According to “Esquire,” the absolute primo number one quality desired by American men who replied to their most recent poll is loyalty/faithfulness (47%). This is followed by intelligence (15%), friendliness, and personality (27% combined).

What this says is that if you’re a bright, good-natured, engaging woman who stands by her man, you have the pick of the litter of about 89% of the available male population.

Testosterone may be on the decline for the time being. But I’m thinking that Femmicommie America has much more to worry about in the long run.

Thanks to the myths and propaganda of Steinemized feminism, all these You-Can-Have-It-All women from the boomer era are discovering, in fact, that what they end up with is nothing at all.

Ladies, we don’t want you stupid. Speaking for myself, I would love to be able to work a satisfying but not especially remunerative second-income job. I like kids—other people’s for preference. I prefer them broken in.

And I’m not that unusual. But I got tired a long time ago of women who expected some combination of Superman and Clark Kent all at once. I’m not from Krypton. I do have some self-respect, however, and I prefer isolation to being the beta half of a relationship.

If Maureen Dowd is listening in here, hey, I’m 33, looking good despite my damage, can do Bohemian chic quite well, and have been both formally educated and self-educated in any number of topics. I scrub well enough for cocktail parties and, oh yeah, I dig redheads.

Just don’t expect me to say, “Ooohhh, nobody scribbles columns like you, baby!” when you toss off some trivial piece of smack. I’m gonna lay it on you if you don’t live up to your abilities. I don’t care if you are making the big bucks.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I rather like the idea of hitching my cart to a woman who makes big bucks. But if you’re working in my field, the world of words, well honey, you better expect that I’ll be the toughest critic you’ve ever faced.

Not because I want to see you fail, but because I want you to succeed.

And if someone asks me to review “Are Men Necessary?” you better believe I’m gonna pan it. I’m gonna wonder what would happen if a columnist working for a major daily wrote a book titled “Are Women Necessary?” or “Are Jews Necessary?”. It’ll be rhetorical, because what I’ll say is that they’d be fired.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t love you in the morning.

—Graham Strouse