"Yikes, Sheila cut off all her hair!"
"Woman-hater's hair cut," Seamus stated matter of fact around a mouthful of spaghetti. I knew when I was being baited. He knew I would give in. Eventually. Damn him.
"Okay, why not a Man-hater's hair cut?"
"Now what about that looks Man-hating to ye?" He gestured to Sheila's bob with his fork.
"I don't follow you. She had gorgeous long hair. Men loved it. She cut it all off. Obviously she's sick of being eye candy for men."
"Certain men. Some like that sort of thing, I'm told. Anyhoo, what's the worst thing a woman can do to a man?"
"Cut off his --"
"Oh aside from that, ye unphilosophical simpleton!" I shrugged. "Become a man! And how can you truly hate a man if you're working so hard to become one? They cut their hair, they wear men's clothes, they try to be independent, they try to do men's jobs, they talk like men, cuss like men and destroy and distort everything feminine about themselves. They don't hate men. They want to be men! It's themselves they hate."
"So smart guy, what does a man-hater look like?"
"All the rest o' em."
"Jeez! What do you call this dark, bleak little world you live in?!"
Seamus stabbed a spherical meatball and held it up to inspection. "Earth."