The fact that women have a festival dedicated to them implies that the rest of the year belongs to someone else?
I hope not. The impression that the remaining 364 days a year are bestowed to humans, however, is strong.
It 's absurd that we call the party the occurrence of a fire?
Absolutely. We celebrate the births, deaths up to the commemoration. Cum commemorate or remember together activities largely fallen into disuse in our country, lost somewhere between a Big Brother and TG1 of Minzolini.
E 'bleak that most women do not celebrate this festival seeing a male striptease?
Mioddio, of course. If in 26 years I need to pay a man for you bare for me to give me a thirty I bunga bunga. At the same role of Berlusconi, though.
The so-called party also has not even been set up to fire the Cotton textile industry: it was not made until the date of the accident, as a symbol, but the genesis of this celebration is long, and is the result of a series of union demands hard, fundamental. Is due to intellectuals such as Rosa Luxemburg and Clara Zetkin of Spartakusbund , the Spartacus League, to fight to the factories where the majority of workers had suffered harassment and indecent women.
The 2011 does not give us great motivation to be happy on this day.
More than one in two women in Italy is not working, and if he does is bound to enormous sacrifices. If you can not afford a nanny for your children, help in cleaning and laundry, a substitute in the shopping, your days last 18 hours.
If you're a woman, you must be skilled in the art of lying or at least of foresight, especially during job interviews: "He wants to have children?" is a recurring question as inappropriate. If you're single, you have 22 years and answer with an uncertain smile "Actually when I do not know, maybe one day ...", that maybe you did frigate. If, however, speak with a "Sure, I'm married, I'm 32 years old and we're just trying to" have you buried with your hands.
If you're a woman, you have to remember not to put your baby, but your unborn child, the crèche. Yes, because the child is not born yet but the list is long, a few nurseries. Public ones cost a fortune, even private ones more time to think better and get in the queue. A creature as big as a stick of butter, still without a name, already has its waiting list and its share of debt on their shoulders.
If you're a woman, you're pretty, smart and prepared and you can make a minimum of career, who knows whom you date to do it. Can not you come there is no compromise. Or maybe yes, but others do not know, or simply not matter.
Are you ugly, you're no good.
If you are ugly and clever, you are necessarily an enviable one frustrated, hopeless, one would like but can not .
If you are a woman and think, express your ideas and you thought only the uniform, you're a kind of public danger to be neutralized with a dose of Botox that paralyzes you smile and possibly neurons.
If you're a woman and harass you, rape you, persecute you, you certainly sin induction into temptation. If violence emerges that unwanted pregnancy and abortion, you are no longer just an ordinary sinner, you are promoted to murder.
If you're a woman and you do politics you have to rely to a humiliating share rose , not your charisma or your skills.
If you're a woman and sells off not only your body but your person, your dignity, an old perverted businessman improperly paid to the policy, you are to understand, you've certainly had a difficult childhood, you're sitting on your luck, do not do no harm, do a job like any other, you're a wonderful person, intelligent, prepared and serious (cited).
For these, and for many other reasons, and I ask you: Italian women, do you know what the hell you have to celebrate?
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