A Radical Proposition

I have a radical proposition: Abolish the 1 to 10 scale for rating females. Decades of lumping different faces, heights, builds, butts and breasts into one rigid rating system has left legions of women shortchanged.

For example, if the high school lunch lady who wiped her sweaty brow with her wart-covered hand is a 2, who the hell constitutes a 1? 10s run rampant on every college campus in America; therefore Alyssa Milano must be an 11. But if Alyssa is an 11, what the hell is Rebecca Romanji?

The following questions serve to further illustrate the scale's limitations: Should a woman be given leeway during a rating because of her bank account? How would you score a wealthy bag of bones who's willing to put you behind the wheel of a shiny, new Mustang? What about power? Does Condoleeza Rice's position of authority negate the fact that she looks like a mischievous, milk chocolate cherub? If a 4 undergoes cosmetic surgery to improve her appearance, how licit are the points she garners? Do you tell your friends that you bagged a 5 or a 6.5? Clearly, the 1 to 10 is an edifice of little structural integrity. But what to replace it with? An infallible scale will never be realized. Like religion, a scale's worth is determined only by the legitimacy its subscribers endow it with, and X factors such as great personalities and beer goggles will forever compromise its credibility. Furthermore, a scale designed to measure beauty is an inherently flawed concept. Beauty is subjective, no more measurable than what flower smells the sweetest. Alas, it appears that the only measure of a woman a man should abide by is the one gauged by his heart.