survival of the stiletto.
i have an idea. a plan, if you will. a contest to determine, once and for all, the superior sex.
let’s have a contest. everyone goes to work for one day in heels. women and men. and not sensible lands-end heels, mind you – something like these. something truly wicked.
at the end of the day, when all the powerdicks throw themselves down flights of stairs to end their suffering, the women can quietly take over the company.
and they call us the weaker sex. harrummpph.