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Home: The Toast

Women mostly consist of small snails. Men are one 7-foot long slug.

Women have cats. A man has never had a cat. If you know a man who has a cat you must peel away his skin and boil it with lemon juice and three of the cat’s whiskers to reveal his home planet.

Men say “please” and “thank you” out loud, while a polite woman will always do so only with her eyes.

Men are from Facebook and women are from Twitter.

Men are great at breathing fire that consumes all it touches as it reaches skyward, signaling to all that he is Cacus, son of Vulcan, and he is unafraid of battle. Women can multitask.

Women’s hands tend to be colder because they are ice sculptures cursed to life. Over time a woman will revert to her original form, colder and smoother and stuffer, but at such a slow pace that a man never notices. Men are still just bags of meat and blood.

Men and women deal with things differently sometimes.

If a woman bathes in milk and rosewater her skin will begin to glitter pink and silver, and if she submerges her head she’ll hear her true love’s name. A man will just get sticky.

Men prefer butter on toast but aren’t totally against jam. Women are fine either way.

Women are better at developing lower body strength, even though most men have upwards of six legs.

If you ask a man to make latte art he’ll automatically make a heart, while a woman will make a swan.

Women are more likely to say “nice” after “69,” men after “420.”

Men and women understand “Damn, Daniel” equally.

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