Given my recent attempts at romantic entanglements, I have to turn to Cole Porter for this post:
I hate men.
I can't abide 'em even now and then.
Than ever marry one of them, I'd rest a maiden rather,
For husbands are a boring lot and only give you bother.
Of course, I'm awfully glad that Mother had to marry Father,
But I hate men.
Of all the types I've ever met within our democracy,
I hate most the athlete with his manner bold and brassy,
He may have hair upon his chest but, sister, so has Lassie.
Oh, I hate men!
I hate men.
They should be kept like piggies in a pen.
Avoid the trav'ling salesman though a tempting
Tom he may be,
For on your wedding night he may be off to far Araby,
While he's away in Mandalay is thee who have the baby,
Oh I hate men.
If thou shouldst wed a businessman, be wary, oh, be wary.
He'll tell you he's detained in town on business necessary,
His bus'ness is the bus'ness with his pretty secretary,
Oh I hate men!
I hate men
Though roosters they, I will not play the hen.
If you espouse and older man through girlish optimism,
He'll always stay at home at night and make no criticism,
Though you may call it love, the doctors call it rheumatism.
Oh, I hate men.
From all I've read, alone in bed, from A to Zed, about 'em.
Since love is blind, then from the mind, all womankind should rout 'em,
But, ladies, you must answer too, what would we do without 'em?
Still, I hate men!