We can get rid of leg hair without pretending that we do a lot of cycling/swimming or any other sport that would require aerodynamic legs.

We absently hum tunes from musicals without anyone being suspect of our sexuality.

When we buy a vibrator it is glamorous. When men buy a blow up doll it’s pathetic.

Should we wake up looking like something the cat dragged in, we can fix it with cosmetics.

We can have partners that are years younger than us without being called dirty old perverts.

We can scare male bosses with mysterious gynecological disorder excuses.

Our boyfriend’s clothes make us look elfin and gorgeous. They look like complete dorks in our clothes.

We have total control over our eyebrows.

It’s cool to be a daddy’s girl. It’s sad to be a mommy’s boy.

We can cry to get out of speeding fines.

The thrill of surprising people by being good at darts… and pool… and football.

We live longer, so we can be cantankerous old biddies wearing inappropriate clothes and shouting at strangers… men die earlier so we get to cash in on the life insurance.

We know that games are fun, but don’t believe there’s a direct correlation between the size of our scores and the size of our… womanhood.

Taxis stop for us.

We get drunk quicker and cheaper.

We have no desire to arrange our possessions in alphabetical order. Ever.

We’ve never fancied a cartoon character or the central figure in a computer game.

It does not enhance our social standing to understand the inner workings of a ‘ruck’ (or any other football thing). But we look incredibly cool if we do.