I hate being a girl. It totally stinks. Boys are better at everything. In gym class, whenever we divide up into boys against girls, the boys always win. Boys are better at PlayStation and at drawing robots. Who do you think got to go to summer science camp this year? Danny Grella. A boy. Not that I wanted to go to retarded science camp anyway, but you know what I mean.
I was thinking about this even more in Social Studies class today. We learned all about what genocide is. And you know who’s led, like, every single genocide ever? Yup, boys.
A lot of the girls in my class are smart, but most of them are too shy to say anything, so no one even notices they’re smart. Even if they know the answer, Mrs. Culver has to call on them and ask them if they know it before they’ll say it. So there’s no way a girl would get up and make a big speech in front of thousands of Brownshirts. She’d be way too embarrassed.
Know how many major genocides there were in the 20th century? The encyclopedia CD-ROM in the library says seven. A whole 50 or 60 million people got killed altogether. But was even one of the genocides done by a girl? Nope. Did any of the tyrannical dictator boys have a “right-hand girl” who was carrying out his orders for him? No way! There’s one more thing girls are no good at.
I like to get dirty and play flag football with the boys, but none of the other girls in my class want to get their stupid clothes dirty. All they care about is going to the mall and buying stupid nail polish and purses and makeup. It’s so lame. Maybe that’s why girls aren’t any good at overseeing the systematic mass murder of an entire race. It’s too messy.
You never see a genocidal dictator wearing a dress and being all afraid he’ll ruin it. He’s out there in military fatigues, getting down in the mud, making sure his orders are being carried out. This boy dictator we learned about named Suharto, I bet he wasn’t afraid to get a little blood splattered on his shirt. Girls hate blood. They run screaming from it.
I bet you have to know a lot about guns if you want to make a genocide. Everyone knows boys are better gun-shooters than girls. Who knows even one girl who shoots guns? Also, I bet a big part of being one of those genocidal maniacs is designing stuff, like big camps and ovens and stuff. And for that, you need to be really good at math. I suck at math. I just can’t figure it out. That’s because I’m a girl.
Danny Grella says girls don’t have to be smart, because they just stay home and have babies. Well, my mom had babies and a career. Still, she’s not the boss where she works. My dad is the boss where he works. My mom has to go in to work on Saturday if Mr. Nagel says so.
To be good at genocide, you probably have to be really good at bossing people around. That’s something girls can’t do. My brother Josh always gets to watch what he wants on TV, even if I really want to watch something. I usually just let him get away with it because I don’t feel like getting in a big fight about it. Unlike boys, girls just aren’t bossy or stubborn enough to eradicate a race of people from the face of the Earth. It just would never happen.
Girls always want to help people. They want to take care of babies and feed them and dress them up. They don’t want to throw them into pits and cover them with dirt while they’re still alive.
In gym class, when we divide into teams for dodgeball, the girls are always picked last. Maybe that’s what happens when a group of extremists is looking for somebody to head their regime. The Khmer Rouge picked Pol Pot because they knew he’d be good at murder and torture and all that other boy stuff. A girl probably would have planted flowers in the killing fields.
Sure, there have been a couple of evil girls, but they’re never as evil as the boys. Nothing on the level of Idi Amin, this boy who killed 300,000 Christians in Uganda during the 1970s.
All Hitler had to say was “jump” and everybody jumped. There’s no way a girl could grow a mean mustache like his. Then there was Stalin. I bet no one put stupid frilly curtains up in Stalin’s bedroom when he was away at summer camp and then told him they had to stay there because the old curtains were already in the garbage.
God, I wish I were a boy.
