I study at and therefore live near a University. This means on a daily basis I have to put up with weirdo… sorry SJW’s, feminists, heterosexual LGBTBBQ activists and so on. At my university there are ‘demonstrations’ on a weekly basis. A more accurate description for what happens is a few fat birds show up and mull around a table calling everyone they encounter racist or something along those lines. I’m still bewildered over how they get the money to buy the absolutely fucking ridiculous number of leaflets they distribute. I honestly thought that the number of ‘demonstrations’ would subside when everyone broke up. Oh how naive I was. There must be fewer than 200 students that are still in the area. And yet every week there are at least two ‘demonstrations’. Which I have to walk past when I go to the gym.
Now Mrs K despises them, but I like them. I really do. There’s noting more enjoyable than arguing the toss with a fat, sweaty, probably woman, after a morning gym sesh. Unfortunately most of them won’t talk to me as, ya know, my opinions are hate crimes n’all. So my post gym arguments are now a rarity. Although it is rather amusing to watch 5 foot tall 20 stone wankpuffins body-shame Mrs K for “Having big arms” while simultaneously shouting about ‘positive body image’. For the uninitiated ‘positive body image’ means fat is sexy and acceptable. Whereas healthy is evil and unhealthy. Oh hypocrisy and double, how they make me chortle.
One particular morning it was raining and the dumplings were packing up. I, as per, was waiting for Mrs K and her friend to finish changing. I was wholly surprised to see one of the feminazis approach me. I assumed that my previous endeavors had put me on a SJW black list. Although ‘Black List’ seems a bit culturally insensitive to me so they probably call it some thing else. The particular ‘lady’ who came over to talk was the lady who prompted me to write my first article for this site. Anyway I soon found out she did remember our last encounter and she wanted to come over and attempt to show me how much of a misogynist I am. She handed me a leaflet about how women are underpaid in sport. Standard unsubstantiated lefty bollocks. The leaflet was followed by a few questions regarding women’s pay in sport. I then proceeded to explain that Cristiano Ronaldo is not paid more than Jonjo Shelvy because he is Portuguese. It is because Ronaldo has more ‘Draw Power’. He makes more money for his employer. Be it because he is better at football or because of his brand, he brings in more money and therefore is paid more. A better example that I thought of in hindsight is Ronda Rousey Is paid more than Nate Diaz. Because Ronda draws more of a crowd. And therefore makes Dana White (President of UFC) more money. She is not paid more because she is a woman and Nate Diaz is not paid less because he is a man. It’s the simple law of supply and demand. A simple concept that seemed to be lost on my friend the feminist.
That line of conversation went on for a good 15 minuets. Until she played, what she thought was, her trump card (Parpz). She goes “Who is you favorite athlete”. I told her, Sara Sigmundsdottir. She then asked me “Now”, with a smirk on her face, “Who is your favorite female athlete”. I gave her a perplexed look. After about 3 seconds silence she came back with “You don’t know any do you?, because you think women can’t be real athletes”. I burst into laughter. I pointed out to her that Sara Sigmundsdottir is a female. And that when it comes to athletes I do not think about gender I think about ability. I also pointed out how she was the one dividing up men and women. And that assuming Sara Sigmundsdottir was a man was blatant Icelandophobia.
But it gets weirder. The feminist then, no word of a lie, started to cry. Because she hadn’t “spotted her bigotry”. WTF. Luckily at this point Mrs K saved me and we went home where I jotted down the notes which I used to mold this article.
So next time you are watching a YouTube video of these people, thinking how did evolution fuck it up so bad. Just spare a thought for those of us who have to actually encounter these creatures for real.
Oh. And don’t forget. FUCK THE BBC.