"Oh no," she groaned "you did have something lined up." Not something, someone." I said sharply "A rather dishy and willing someone who doesn't happen...to be on the phone, and who will by now have thought I'd stood her up and made other arrangements. Thanks a fucking bundle sis!"An icy silence filled the room as I turned my head away from my sister, I knew that if I looked at her much longer I'd say something I'd regret, I was so mad that I was ready to lash out and it was only with a great. What was it about the pussy race that we wanted, desired, adored so much. You couldn’t talk to them. You couldn’t reason, or debate. They just wanted you to listen and say, ‘Mmm’ or ‘Yes, do go on.’ They just filled and filled and filled up every space, with the garbage they called rationality and thought. I looked at her and stopped trying to find common ground in argument. I forgave her her weaknesses and abandoned any attempt to make sense of her monologue (which, by the way, she mistakenly. More

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