Bag ladies: Hideous monsters or dazzling beauties? Next, on Mr. Sinister!

I love women. All women. Well, maybe not fat, ugly or annoying women. And especially no combination of the three. But I still love the ladies. Only, I'm perplexed by them.

I mean, all men concede we'll never understand women, but there are just some things you ladies do that are just more baffling than others. Take for instance your daily routines. Now, I'm not here to comment on what you do in the bathroom or why we are always left waiting for countless hours just to walk across the street to the diner. The one issue recently I've been trying to come to grips with is your everyday traveling accoutrements.

Lately, navigating a sidewalk, street corner and, especially, subway is like a running back's gauntlet drill. How can I move without getting hit by various objects? Ever notice what a woman has with her while heading to work? In my observation the women of New York City will carry a purse or pocketbook (whatever you women are calling those things these days!). Pretty normal, right? Ok, I get that one. Then there may be a gym bag of some sort, or one of those canvas ecofriendly bags from Origins or some shit. I get that, too. You ladies wanna look good and we appreciate it. But then there's always that 'extra' bag; that one teeny little Bloomingdale's bag that you have in your hand. What's that for?! What the heck do you have in there that wouldn't fit into your other two bags? I'm bewildered.

It's not that I really even need to know how much crap you girls are carrying. Frankly, why the hell would I care? But why the heck do you INSIST on keeping all those things on your shoulders and in your hands on a crowded subway. Surely one of those bags can hang out down by your feet for a few minutes instead of squishing me even more into the corner! Surely, I don't need to be hit in the elbow time and again by those enormous, ugly "CD" letters that hang off your expensive and tacky bag! Your 120-pound ass (hopefully) is taking up precious square footage real estate around town like a chick whose Friday nights consist of making Duncan Hines brownies and watching Gilmore Girls reruns.

Like I said, I love you ladies, you're all interesting and beautiful creatures. Just put the fucking bag down. You ain't Pretty Woman on Rodeo either!