We got the right to vote, and fought hard for it. But instead of forging ahead in life and proving through action and accomplishment that it was well-earned, some women realized how they could make a full-time business over simply being a “fightin’ wommyn.” It wouldn’t exactly be a productive industry, but The Man could foot the bill.

Look at us women, we can do it all. Except, apparently, raise our own kids. Instead they end up getting pawned off on babysitters and foreign nannies, and it only becomes a problem when we note that their Spanish language skills far outdo their English. Just because you have a biological capability, it doesn’t mean you need to use it. And if you do indeed choose to, then take responsibility for raising decent human beings. Their future dating pool will thank you for it.

What’s the deal with women in their 30s and older speaking in childlike voices like their breasticles have yet to drop? Listen to any one of Dr. Laura’s radio shows for a taste of this epidemic. Joan of Arc and Elizabeth I didn’t talk like babies. I wasn’t personally around during their era, but I can’t imagine Joan of Arc having said, “Tomorrow blood will leave my body above the breast,” as though she was Paris Hilton twisting her hair around her fingers while doing an interview with David Letterman. Society in general has become feminized since women won the right to vote: A surfeit of sensitive, effete men. Childlike women. And children whose maturity is stunted well into adulthood.

The left has the feminists, while the right has far too many women who pretend to be overly interested in everything from fly fishing to NASCAR to hunting. Look, why don’t you laddies (intentional typo) just get a sex change already? I’m guessing some among us do this to seem more like one of the boys and to put men at ease. But frankly, I don’t think anyone is at ease with that. It’s creepy. If feminists were rewired as right-wingers—to enjoy cliched right-wing activities—they’d be you.

Being a woman with the ability to reproduce isn’t just a fact of life and incidental biological function, it’s these women’s entire life. All day, every day, “mommy bloggers” foist upon the world their trials and tribulations related to producing and raising offspring, as though it’s something so spectacular and such a unique experience that it must be shared with the world. Guess what? I went to the zoo recently and saw several pairs of animals—from ducks and geese to sea otters—who had more of a life than you ladies while still managing to raise a family. The argument to recognize women as productive members of society cannonballs right into the sewer when women opt to spend their day gazing at their navel and those of their children, and then broadcast the blow-by-blow on Twitter, FaceBook, or a blog as their only remotely productive daily activity.

Susan B. Anthony is looking down and giving these gals the big thumbs up. Oh, for SURE! If there was any legitimate reason to fight for the right of women to be recognized as free-thinking, independent human beings, it was so they would then be free to seek out the most prominent and available male member of the Lucky Sperm Club. Then to suck him dry of one or more generations of treasure under the watchful eye of the nation via TV.

Ladies, is your love life better now that your breasts are bigger and faker? Did the fact that you’ve Botoxed your forehead into paralysis land you a raise, or more respect and admiration? Does Brigitte Bardot command any less respect as an outspoken animal rights advocate because she clearly has never been touched by a surgeon’s scalpel in a procedure that makes women look like the felines for which she advocates? And do you really think she’d garner any more respect if she did? So then why is cosmetic surgery more rampant than ever?