Women rock and they are strong! So strong they should go to war. Not guys – we’re useless! Here’s my top 5 reasons women should be drafted, and maybe not me.
5. Stress relief!
Women have too much on their shoulders these days, what with Drumpf and all. What better way to relieve their stresses than by sending them to war? Equality now, let the females fight! Don’t worry about us men, we’ll be fine. We can even watch the kids! We’ll have mac and cheese for dinner, and learn karate to harness our tempers.
4. More peace!
Everyone knows that if only women were in charge, there would be no more war (except for once a month for 3-7 days depending on individual hormonal shifts, fellas). If we send all the ladies to Syria, the fighting would be over in a day. I sure couldn’t do that – look at me, I can’t even keep my gerbil alive, let alone broker global peace agreements in the midst of tenuous transnational relations! Don't worry about the kids from #5, though! Seriously! It's chill!
3. Free college!
What’s a better way to get women to go to college than to send them to the trenches and reward them for their hard work with education? I literally cannot think of one. Send them to typing school! Women are so intelligent, they’ll be able to protect hard-earned American freedom AND deserve academic success when they return from battle. And me? I’m an oaf! Send the beauties instead. Give them associate’s degrees. Please.
Every woman I’ve ever dated has told me she loves to travel. But do any of them want to work for it? Yes! By serving their country valiantly. Joining the military is one of the coolest ways to see the world, and we might as well make it mandatory if all the women are gonna complain so much. Drafting women is a huge win for feminism – if they want equality so much, why don't they fight for it? You know what I'm saying. Like that Jet Li movie where he's forced to do cage-fighting? That movie's nuts! I'd hate to do anything like that.
1. Strong bodies!
Women can lift, did you know that? There are at least seven women in the world right now who could crush my skull between their thighs; oh yes. But nevermind my ex, Jeanette. If women are drafted to fight for the ole’ U-S-of-A in the imminent nuclear Third World War, they’ll get even buffer. Gym memberships are too expensive; a little desert-strolling in some big boots will do the women good. I still pay for my gym membership, but it's mostly just to keep the cool card in my wallet. I go maybe twice a year when my calves get too lean. You couldn’t see me, Sergeant Skinny-Calves, hauling ass through a nuclear wasteland, could you? Just look at my tummy! It’s too plush! I’d max out the weight requirement. Oh, my skinny calves? They're real, I promise you, I just have an apple shape! And flat feet! And I wear glasses. And I took a Ritalin last week, please! Something here has got to stick! War is imminent, and I am not willing or able to help my country. Every day, my podcast inches closer to its breakthrough moment, and yet every night I lay in bed and ponder how much money it would cost for Jeanette's brother to inject me with some of his Hepatitis C. Beautiful women of all shapes and sizes, I beg you: don't make me return to Ryland's god awful duplex. Please do not force me to start a new life in Canada.