Stab in and thrust up.
Seriously, though, I am about to come across as a complete anti-feminist (and I'm in good company, there): girls, if you want to land a man, cook for him. Do not bring him fast food, invite him over for pork chops and boiled and buttered potatoes, green bean casserole, and homemade biscuits. If you can't cook, go to the Wal-Mart Deli and pick up a homestyle meal. They'll love it, and love you for it.
Case in point: my neighbors across the street are college boys. They're in their early twenties, one has completed his degree (and owns the house, thanks to his family). They don't really cook for themselves, much. And what they do cook is guy food: simple stuff.
Monday night, after I'd made cookies at the pixie's behest, I took the three or four guys that live over there almost half the batch--about a dozen and a half fresh, homemade, chocolate peanut butter chip cookies.
The guy that owns the house thanked me profusely, then told me that if he weren't half naked, he'd give me a big hug for that.
Ladies: if you have a boyfriend that you see as marriage material, cook for him. Guys: if you want to piss off a radical feminist, show her this post, and perhaps the JudgyBitch blog.
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