I don't want to hate men, but...

Somewhere in the first series of The West Wing Josh's ex-girlfriend tells Bartlett to try and sound less like "an Economics Professor with a big old stick up his ass*." The president responds with "I am an economics professor with a big old stick up his/my (?) arse**."

I feel like a traduced wife with (metaphorically only, of course) a big old stick up my arse.

I don't want to hate men, but sometimes I find myself reacting to them in a way that suggests a bleak future.

The Fat Bastard has his Fool in Philadelphia to make him feel good about himself, even if it is a long distance thing. From time to time I get a positive reaction that puts a spring in my step and gives me renewed confidence that the piece in my Bio is not wholly in breach of Truth in Advertising principles.

But for the p,ast couple of days I've been engaged in an electronic exchange with a guy in London who was treating me, ironically, at 'face value' right up to the point where he realised he was dealing with someone female. Since then, each time we've been in contact the exchange inevitably drifts, if I let it, through my size, shape, age, and innuendo and ends up with handcuffs. None of this would have happened if he'd been dealing with another bloke and it bugs the hell of me.