I Love How Mystery Authors (Especially Female Ones)

Assume that the blonde, fake boobed bits of fluff with which they equip attractive male criminals (who lady detectives swoon over) are stupider, sillier, and less brutal than their male counterparts, I also love how they make them meaningless accessories to their “golden hearted gangsters” like somehow their toughness, and willingness to do what it takes to survive or to escape a hellish background is to be censured where on a man who actually kills and intimidates people it’s vaguely admirable.

Gross.  Bougie bitches wanting tough scary prole dudes and trying to throw prole women under the bus are gross.

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