Dear Rush Limbaugh, Chris Matthews, Tucker Carlson, et. al.:
I do not wish to touch your balls, to cut them from your bodies or for any other reason. I do not wish to even contemplate the existence of your testicles, and, although I understand and pity the profound insecurity that must underlie associations between favorable commentary about powerful women and the removal of your nutsack, I must inform you that it is sheer fantasy. I would, in fact, suggest that there is an inversely proportional relationship between a favorable interest in women like Hillary Clinton and any interest whatsoever in what's in your pants.
Also: Castrating feminist jokes are so 1987. Get a new shtick.
Love,
Liss
I Write Letters
Dear Rush Limbaugh, Chris Matthews, Tucker Carlson, et. al.:
I do not wish to touch your balls, to cut them from your bodies or for any other reason. I do not wish to even contemplate the existence of your testicles, and, although I understand and pity the profound insecurity that must underlie associations between favorable commentary about powerful women and the removal of your nutsack, I must inform you that it is sheer fantasy. I would, in fact, suggest that there is an inversely proportional relationship between a favorable interest in women like Hillary Clinton and any interest whatsoever in what's in your pants.
Also: Castrating feminist jokes are so 1987. Get a new shtick.
Love,
Liss
blog comments powered by Disqus
I do not wish to touch your balls, to cut them from your bodies or for any other reason. I do not wish to even contemplate the existence of your testicles, and, although I understand and pity the profound insecurity that must underlie associations between favorable commentary about powerful women and the removal of your nutsack, I must inform you that it is sheer fantasy. I would, in fact, suggest that there is an inversely proportional relationship between a favorable interest in women like Hillary Clinton and any interest whatsoever in what's in your pants.
Also: Castrating feminist jokes are so 1987. Get a new shtick.
Love,
Liss
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)





