We got off the Titanic first.

We can scare male bosses with mysterious gynaecological disorder excuses.

When we buy a vibrator, it's sexy. When men buy a blow-up doll, it's pathetic.

Our boyfriends' clothes look elfin and gorgeous on us -- guys look like complete idiots in ours.

We can be groupies. Male groupies are stalkers.

We've never lusted after a cartoon character or the central figure in a computer game.

Taxis stop for us.

Men die sooner, so we get to cash in on the life insurance.

We don't look like a frog in a blender when dancing.

Free drinks.

Free dinners.

We can hug our friends without wondering if they think we're gay.

We can hug our friends without wondering if we're gay.

We know the truth about whether size matters.

New lipstick gives us a whole new lease on life.

Condoms make no significant difference in our enjoyment of sex.

It's possible to live our whole lives without ever taking a group shower.

No fashion faux pas we make could rival the Speedo.

We don't fart to amuse ourselves.

If we forget to shave, no one has to know.

We can congratulate our teammate without ever touching her ass.

If we have a zit, we know how to conceal it.

We never have to reach down every so often to make sure our privates are still there.

We have the ability to dress ourselves.

We don't have to memorize Caddyshack or Fletch to fit in.

We have an excuse to be totally cranky at least once a month.

We can talk to people of the opposite sex without automatically picturing them naked.

If we marry someone 20 years younger, we're aware that we look like an idiot.

Our friends won't think we're weird if we ask whether there's spinach in our teeth.