For the Love of God...

For Pete's sake. Apparently, I have sparked World War III with my comments yesterday regarding men's ridiculous need to make odd noises at women from moving vehicles. I can call yo momma "fat", your girlfriend a "bitch", your dog a "rat", but lord forbid I call you out on your ridiculous antics. Give me a break, gentlemen (and I use that term sparingly).

In a non-Rachel move, I will go ahead and say one thing. I retract my push to extend the middle finger and yell profanities when exposed to a drive-by. It dawned on me, with a little conversation with male co-workers, that, like a second-grader on a jungle gym pulling your hair at recess, even adult men think that any response is a positive response. Typical "no means yes" thought process. Awesome. So, I guess, for now on, we will have to turn our heads, bite our tongues and ignore them. Will this make you stop?

Also, NO. Even if Brad Pitt drives by in his Mercedes G-Wagon (sans Angelina) with money and diamonds hanging out of his mouth, I will not be flattered if he yelps, barks, meows, or makes any other animal-ike sounds. I will also not respond. Believe it or not, most women are a tad more complex than that. Now, if he pulls over and gets out and says, "Hey beautiful, want some diamonds?" That would be a different story. Hey. Just being honest.

Although I am thrilled to see that I am touching the day-to-day lives of those of you who read the blog, I sincerely hope that you understand that unless you have tourettes, it is far better to approach a woman with a little more respect and class than by participating in the classic drive-by. Now, my friends, go find something to do.

PS: I got beeped at twice and told by a smelly homeless man that I had "a great figure" complete with a licking of the chops, yesterday while walking the dog. I give up.