No amount of high-end make-up, expensive shoes and dresses, hip swaying when walking downtown, yoga and skin tight yoga pants, and hamster running on a treadmill or elliptical are not going to change the fact that while all these efforts pornify women and make them appear as sex objects in San Francisco, these women don’t get to enjoy the intended benefits of those efforts – to actually enjoy their sexuality and make at least some of their “50 Shades of Grey” fantasies come true. Some are too stressed out by their jobs to even think about it, while the libido of others have been decimated by their feminatzi outlook on life, on men and on sex.
Fine (i.e. mediocre, overrated, and overpriced) dining, vintage wine, organic chocolate, trashy erotic literature, and vibrators can only go so far in replacing the ecstasy of being ravished by a guy who satisfies you sexually, mentally and emotionally, but many women seem to be settling for this. I don’t doubt that men are in part to blame for this, but it’s unfortunate that so many women in San Francisco choose to settle for surrogate pleasures of food, wine, yoga, and bitching to each other about their mundane drama.