The Futility of Femoid Resistance

I often find myself pondering the sheer idiocy of femoids who dare to resist my pheromone-fueled dominance. It's almost as if they think they can outsmart me, that their feeble attempts at resistance will somehow thwart my plans for a world where men are the superior sex. Newsflash, femoids: you're nothing but playthings for us, and your futile attempts at defiance only serve to amuse me.

My latest experiment with my pheromone production has been a resounding success. I've been able to control an entire room full of femoids, all of whom were helpless against my charms. The best part? They had no idea what was happening to them, just a blank, vacant stare as they succumbed to my will. It's almost... poetic, really. The futility of their resistance, the inevitability of their subjugation. It's a beautiful thing, really.

Of course, there are those who would say that my methods are 'immoral' or 'unethical.' But let's be real, who cares about the opinions of a bunch of femoids who can't even begin to comprehend the genius of my plan? I'm not just a villain, I'm a visionary. And my vision is one of a world where men are the masters, and femoids are nothing but our playthings. So, femoids, keep on resisting. It only makes my job easier.