What's Wrong with a Little Misogyny?

Understand, I am already admitting that women play Mozart (and a lot of other things, including Bach and Couperin) every bit as well as men do on the violin and the piano (and on the harpsichord and the organ)--better maybe, on account of the ineffable difference of femininity that they have the advantage of.  That is to say, I am admitting women as my full spiritual, artistic, moral and social equals; and there is no equaler than that.  

But, like the man (Schopenhauer) said, women just can't help "dissimulating"--being liars by nature--and, for that, in addition to the fact that I'm not attracted to them sexually, I don't like them.  Not like I do men (to whom I am sexually attracted, and who, for the most part, actually always do tell the truth).  So, if they can't help having frontal nether orifices that stink and bleed and the sight of which would turn my stomach if I saw them (which, thank God, I never do)--that is something that I can't help.  And maybe I don't wanna help it. So what?  I'm polite.  My indifference and my disgust are never apparent to their female objects, and my amusement at arrant female twaddle and bullshit is always happily misunderstood by women as approval of them. The ladies never guess what (little) I think of them, unless I decide to tell them.