Debunking for dingbats

I feel it's necessary at this point to debunk a couple of misunderstandings about what I'm doing here. Not because I need anyone to understand 'The True Me' or some such tear-drenched psycho-dingbat-babble. It's more to give the reader some useful tips about how to read. Yes, how to fucking read. And yes, that was inflammatory. Why am I being inflammatory? Good question. Smart of you to ask. Smart for a dingbat.

You may well have formed an opinion about that, or weighed up a few possibilities. Did my mother drop me on my head when I was a baby? Am I bitter at women because of some rejection or injustice in my past, or just generally bitter at everyone because I'm an unsuccessful, ugly git with a small penis? Am I a little pussywhipped motherfucker with some cunt of a she-devil in my life, venting my pent up anger and frustration here because I'm too weak to be assertive in real life? You don't know. Do I know? Form an opinion. Amend as necessary. Or don't. Whatever. Just try to be more interesting than drying paint, less predictable than the force of gravity about it.

Calling me a male rights activist is just laziness. It implies I'm on some kind of mission. As in wanting to change or fix something, increase awareness about some issue (excuse me while I throw up), make the world a fucking better place (excuse me, I just threw up again). What the.....Jesus Christ, there's puke everywhere.... Change what? Fix what? What issue? What world?

I'm not on a mission, dingbat. This is a project. It's something I'm doing. Why? Because I can. It amuses me. Male rights activism strikes me as a bunch of moaning men. "Oh, she wrongfully accused me of rape...", "Oh, oh, she got custody of the kids...", "Oh, oh, society won't let me be a real man anymore..." Someone should bitch-slap those whiny fuckers. You're citizens. Claim your rights. Don't piss and moan like feminists. I got accused of being destructive to the cause (puke). I know nothing about any damn cause. Show me it, I'll shit on it.

I don't feel any bitterness towards women. I love women. I even love feminists, and actually fuck one on a regular basis. She's crap at it, but our political pillow talk's sometimes mildly stimulating, as is the phrase 'I'm fucking feminism', which might occasionally spring to mind during the act itself. Feminists are like anyone else: sometimes charming, sometimes stupid, generally misinformed and often quite dull between the sheets. It's their ideology I find absurd, bogus, funny, entertaining etc. The enemy isn't women, wimmin, the femin-ine or femin-ists. It's femin-ism.

If I shoot wide of the mark and target women, wimmin, the feminine, feminists, whiny men or other dingbats, well, I suppose you could call that collateral damage. Do I care? No.