Unscrew the Taboo

"Take my wife. Please!" - Rodney Dangerfield (edit: apparently originated with one Henny Youngman)

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"How many weeping eyes I made to pine with woe

How many sighing hearts I have no skill to show

Yet I the prouder grew and answered them therefore:

Go, go, seek some otherwhere, importune me no more"

Faith and the Muse - Importune Me No More

(original text by none other than the virgin queen Elizabeth I)

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I don't bother with Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal much. The jokes tend to be a bit strained, especially when the "punchline" is obviously reverse-engineered to justify its own setup parroting some trendy reddit feminist fad or another. A couple of days ago the topic was apparently middle-aged women being invisible. I'm going to assume that means invisible to men for waning attractiveness, as per the endless such articles you'll find online. Which is of course evil and wrongwrongwrong you evil man how dare you be attracted to the people you're attracted to?

 

Wait, instead of launching into a whole rant, if I didn't like SMBC's joke, maybe I should just tell one of my own. Here's one from another boy way back in fifth grade:

"What's the difference between a pregnant lady and a lightbulb? You can't un-screw the pregnant lady."

Yes, yes, it's a very fifth grade sort of joke (I would hereby like to thank the Chicago public school system) but the discordant "lady" in that context rooted in my memory. Note the teller's requisite middle school naughtiness did not extend to a pregnant chick or pregnant bitch or knocked-up teenage sluts. Even in the course of deliberate transgression, females' moral high ground must be upheld. And he didn't even mention her "socket" to tie it all together!

In fact, the socket is oddly immune to mockery (George Carlin aside) even by comedians who otherwise fill entire sketches and monologues with nothing but jokes about light bulbs being too small, too dim or shorting out too fast.* Another webcomic, Grrl Power, at one point bemoaned the use of swear words based on female anatomy as a sign civilization's going down the tubes. A decade before that, I remember an online guild getting bitched out on that account by some bitch taking umbrage because she doesn't want her body parts referenced so negatively. Oh I'm so sorry, you gigantic rancid cunt, but have you ever in your life complained about the far more popular insults of pricks or dicks as impugning the dignity of men? And really, just try even counting how few times, comparatively, you've actually heard all those limp dick loving comedies and comedians mock the other half of the population as frigid bitches drier and looser than burlap sacks, who don't know which end of a cock to grab.

 

This is by no means a new disparity. By the late '90s comedy shows were forced to hedge even the slightest jab at the unfairer sex with excuses like "it is not anti-woman just to talk about women" even when addressing blatant mass insanity like the idolatry of "Princess" Diana. Now even comedians like Jimmy Carr, who've built careers around offense and abuse, will flip around into self-flagellating public service announcement mode as soon as the topic of women comes up, as all humor instantly dies on merest contact with women's absolute control over men, over morals, over media.

 

As for the crocodile tears shed by spinsters over losing all the attention they used to get in their youths, whatever entitled you to that attention in the first place? I feel absolutely zero pity for you losing something your male counterparts never had! Which you in fact presumed them duty-bound to lavish upon your own assuredly magnificent self! Aside from the 1% of rich&famous prince charmings at which women constantly throw themselves, the majority of men are always invisible to women, and openly mocked for loneliness, not when we hit middle-age but ceaselessly from puberty to death. Reference any comedy: there's no joke more guaranteed to get a laugh than a loser who can't get laid. Well, except maybe that same man falling over or getting kicked in the crotch. Because he obviously deserves it. He's a loser for not gaining women's approval.

Have you crotch-kicked a spinster today?

No, no pity. If my lifelong loneliness is subject to mockery, then so be your far lesser and well-earned measure of same bitterness. No pity just because your own refusal to accept any mate but an established, financially secure alpha male had you chasing forty-something men in your twenties. You never deserved a sugar-daddy in the first place. No pity just because you clung to the same rich frat-boy as ten other chicks until losing that melee. And then jumped on the same next one's dick as twenty other chicks. No pity just because the men you strung along and in whose faces you spat for twenty years running (because you preferred being the mistress of a banker rather than the wife of a young bank teller) are no longer falling at your feet to beg your favor. I don't believe poetic justice exists. The universe has no ethics. But I do appreciate the poetry of stuck-up cunts going all Sunset Boulevard after they've done nothing but abuse their undeserved star power up to that point to bleed men.

Roses were redder than you deserved

Violence was engendered by you

You ignored me from a crowded bed

Count your wrinkles you fat unfuckable shrew

 

 

  

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* That is NOT an overextended metaphor. We do light up when you plug us in.