Fleet Week is a single New York female’s wet dream come true – men in uniform fresh off of immeasurable time at sea wandering the city streets. Additionally, during said time at sea, the only human flesh they have laid on their table is each other’s, so their standards are way lower than that of the average male. For women, this is a winning equation. However, one group continues to be oppressed through this ordeal, and it comes as no surprise that said group is straight (white) males. Truly, during Fleet Week, the straight male is left to only watch as men who serve his country year round get a few hours of well deserved female attention –just complete bullshit. Not only that, but otherwise sociable females are distracted and bemused by the plethora of uniform-clad military men. However, I believe I have devised a few plans to level the playing field for the ever-struggling straight male population. So start marking your calendars now, America. In Sharpie!
Cheerleader Week
Yes indeed. Cheerleader Week would take place at some point in mid-July, when the air is steamiest, and so are the dolls. Cheerleaders from varying high schools, universities, and beyond are invited to New York to simply roam the streets and have pillow fights. Now, to truly make this equivalent of Fleet Week, the Cheerleaders must have all been kept in a very contained environment for the duration of the year. Right off the bat, I’m going to suggest a containment facility at the center of the Earth. Here, they would receive basic education and cheerleader training, with enough food and essentials to last them their entire stay. Their families will all be allowed to visit every once a season, but again, no male companions. By way of this method, the Cheerleaders will all be lonely and hungry for a man – any man, and primed for Cheerleader Week in New York City. Then of course, they will be shipped back to the center of the Earth, in preparation for next year’s Cheerleader Week. What if the plan backfires and the cheerleaders become lesbians while stuck down there, you ask? Even better, says this observer.
Victoria’s Secret Model Month
Victoria’s Secret Model Month will be similar to Cheerleader Week, except that its participants will don sensual teddies instead of pom-poms. No longer just the object of every catalogue-reading male’s fantasy, these Victoria’s Secret models will be casually integrated into our society for a month every year, seen riding subways and buying a Razzle Tazzle with soy booster at Jamba Juice. Again though, in order to assure their man cravings are peaked, we must devise a way to separate these Victoria’s Secret Models from the rest of normal society. With the center of the Earth being occupied (though the prospect of mixing the two groups is intriguing), only one logical alternative remains – outer space. After a few weeks of basic astronaut training, these models would be free to roam the moon, eat the moon food, and interact with the strange, deformed moon people (paid actors). After enough time has passed, they will be rushed to Earth for VSMM, desperate for human males and gravity. If you think NASA would not be behind this, you’re off your effing gourd.
Jessica Alba-Clone Fortnight
Okay, this one would seriously, be so easy to do. Let’s face it, science is progressing a helluva lot faster than the government would have us believe. And if any one male scientist received this suggestion, he would be all over it, and most likely motivated to up his research-game. I mean, we cloned sheep, and Jessica Alba would be the next logical step for science. Sure, maybe the first few attempts would be less than stellar, with a few more horns and a few less eyes than we’d like, but after those creatures have been properly disposed of (sent into space with models), we can reproduce Jessica Albas faster than Apple produces iPod upgrades. Of course, no isolation would be necessary for this bunch, seeing as they’ll be experiencing all life has to offer for the first time during JACF. With no previous men to compare us to, the Albas will truly believe that I’m a crime fighting, Oscar winning quarterback. Let’s just hope they don’t turn on us, because trust me – these are going to be a lot of Albas.
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