Why Women Aren’t Funny tries to flatter me by calling me smarter, prettier, more magical and gifted and that’s why I’m never going to be as funny as a male counterpart. The flattery isn’t working. I’d much prefer a man just said the truth: “I don’t want you to be funny, because I’d like one goddamn thing I’m better at than you.”

And by the way, I’m pretty sure that this:

There are more terrible female comedians than there are terrible male comedians, but there are some impressive ladies out there.

…is a statistically impossible statement. That’s like when everybody tells me I get jobs because I’m a girl. You know what they hire in writing rooms? A bunch of guys, and “a girl.” A girl. One. “The” girl. And I’ve got to compete with a hell of a lot of funny and talented women for that part. You’ve got to be Supergirl. You’ve got to be so awesome at being a woman that there are days nobody notices you’re a woman, or they notice that you’re making it so that they don’t have to think of you like you’re a woman, which makes you even cooler because you’re like, so not girly.

I’ve got to stop now, or I’m going to get too emotional and sound like my sixteen-year old self, writing a manifesto against the school’s dress code. “How can a mohawk damage school property? Why are they censoring our right to free expression?!?”

I’ll go scoop out my ovaries with a spork and see if that makes me funnier. Wait — it totally does.

Why? Yep.

The spork.

[link via Bookslut]