This is Mrs. Carol Van Sant, long-time resident of Stepford, Connecticut, and dedicated wife to my precious husband, Mr. Ted Van Sant. You may have heard a little squawk about the Stepford community from those mean-spirited movies, suggesting that we Stepford wives are oppressed robots. My heavens! Don’t pay any attention to those rumors.

Anywho, I am here to speak out against something that has been plaguing the media recently. There is a hullabaloo about this Ocean’s 8 movie and an all-female cast. I have educated myself (via my rightfully concerned husband) on this woman actor business and the stress it has caused.

Calm down my dears! I’ve figured out how to stomach this movie.

See, if you put little mustaches on all the women, you no longer have to endure these lady actors. This trick makes them into real actors; they become male! The Stepford community developed this after realizing how difficult it was to find movies with an all-male cast.

You know what really gets my goat? These women actors taking up all this space, time, and money, just to deliver a movie that’s already been made. Ocean’s 11 was just fine and dandy the way it was first created; that talented Frank Sinatra perfected it in 1960. I mean, if they’re going to be copycats, why not keep re-doing those reality series on housewives? At least they’re helpful to other women; they make my Valium-popping look like an innocent dose of Tic-Tacs.

Women actors must face reality: everything they do is garbage. And what does any civilized person do with garbage? Get rid of it! Lady actors, let the experts continue doing what they do best. Save your acting for the headaches when you crawl into bed or your feigned sobriety. Besides, your assumed 2.5 offspring from a heteronormative union need you at home!

The only times critics should approve of female actresses is when they’re pretty and don’t talk much. Oh! You know what woman actor I really like? I think you’ll like her too: Lillian Gish. She was very popular in the silent movie era. She’s probably the only woman actor that hasn’t given me a vocal fry headache.

Honestly though, I can’t think of a movie with an all-female cast that is worth the overpriced popcorn.

Oh, except Fried Green Tomatoes.

And the Sister Act movies.

Oh, and Calendar Girls.

Don’t go near that Thelma and Louise movie though, what a disaster. I had the darndest time keeping little mustaches on those women during that Grand Canyon scene. And did I ever get a well-deserved scolding from Mr. Van Sant for exposing myself to those bra-burning butches. He thinks such movies could brainwash me—could you imagine that he thinks there’s such a thing as brainwashing?

Sometimes I get so frustrated by these discussions. Mr. Van Sant says that Midol helps women stave off the devil’s visits before menstruation, but my neighbor, Mrs. Van Tramp, says Valium does the trick—for once, a woman was right! Mr. Van Sant is always willing to guide me in dark times. He reminds me that men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Our differences are vast and this is why the glass ceiling is so important! I can’t imagine being burdened with the same opportunities that men face. Thank you, patriarchy, for restricting women to low pay and dead-end jobs.

Now, to help settle your hysterical brain about these female actors, I suggest you go home to your men and watch one of those nice Hangover movies. There’s at least two of these Hangover movies and they are just wonderful. Or at least that’s what Mr. Van Sant keeps saying. You may fall asleep in the middle of the second (or…third?) movie, or you may be overcome with a recurrent nightmare sensation while watching them. But I hear that’s how you know it’s good cinema.

The point remains that women actors have yet to prove themselves in Hollywood; acting in daily life is where the talents need to be preserved. I don’t know how their success is calculated by the male-dominated media. But you know how women and math are.

So don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just keep booing everything women do until the menfolk tell you otherwise. Now, how about some Ovaltine? I promise to put a touch of my Valium elixir in it to calm any nerves this topic may have caused you, you poor, fragile thing.