Male feminists — your little Hugo Schwyzer is showing

So our porn star-fuckin’, Russian-lovin’, evangelical-approved, hate-and-Colonel Sanders-fueled, physically-geriatric, dip-shit Commander In Golf Donald J.Trump shut down the government because he couldn’t get a resounding “yes” on his great wall of diluted delusions. Or some such nonsense.

I got Oprah Winfrey eyeballing the Oval Office, and ICE agents rounding up and deporting people left and right, yet Harvey Weinstein is allowed to pull slots in Vegas and somehow Hawaii got ghost nuked, Gov. Butthead Bevin is still a dog-turd, and Aziz Ansari is a bonafide sexual predator… “No he’s not!” “Yes he is!” “Nah, he fuckin’ ain’t! “‘Parks and Rec!’” “Oh yes he fuckin’ is, and fuck ‘Parks and Rec,’” Aziz, Rob Lowe, Louis C.K. They had more creeps on payroll than an “August Underground” flick! “Well then fuck you buddy!” “No, Fuuuuuck You!” “Well that’s the last straw, prepare to be deleted!” “Not if I can delete you first!” (Both hit delete at the same time, thus curing world hunger and putting the brakes on the opioid epidemic once and for all with a thunderous bolt of fire-hot righteousness, not seen since this side of the Crusades) — hooray!

Hero’s, aren’t we all?!

Sometimes, I mean most of the time, I think humans were not made to function inside close relationships with other humans, ya know? Don’t go chasing waterfalls and stick with the cats and dogs you’re used to, or whatever morally superior species from the animal kingdom you relate to the most, and go buy a sex cyborg to get sweaty with and shabloinks, you’ll be just dandy because, I mean, nobody really likes you anyway.

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I know people who believe we’ve been loaded into an alien-designed super matrix, and this, our current, ever-sinking-further-down shithole state we’re trapped in is the last level, and the final boss is about to jump down and rip our spinal column right out in one fell swoop with no cheat codes on the horizon. Others, still, say that’s all hogwash, and that the real scoop on the situation is the fact that our dimension has crashed into another, far more sinister and poisonous version of our world, and this other dimension has begun to usurp our reality into its own, and by this time next year the reanimated corpse of Tiny Tim, while hosting a YouTube channel, will reveal he is the third angel from the book of Revelations, here to summon the great star of reckoning, Wormwood… And, more or less, we all get to perish looking like a bunch of played out idiots.

But hey, it’s South Town — all my friends smoke way too much weed while reading Valiant comics, what do they know. I mean I don’t have nary a fuckin’ clue to suss any of this bullshit out. I’m out here Alicia Silverstone-ing full time now! I don’t know who’s who. I can’t tell you where to lay your trust. It’s like the GZA said: Nowadays, you gotta watch your front and your back, cause these motherfuckers be lying through their bleached, fluorescent light-like teeth, puking out sugary self-serving platitudes to gain full access to your person, your personal stash, your family and your cash. Scoundrels to your left and informants to your right, trying to suck out your soul! Go check the big board, ‘cause if I had a dime for every single time the real good guy mask was pulled off a self-described male feminist revealing a blood-caked villian, I’d have enough banana bread to boss Elon Musk around the laboratory.

It’s gotten to the point that the next bro-dude palooka with kale caught in his beard and smelling of B.O. and butthole, who tries to lecture anyone on how down for the count he is with sixth wave feminism, is catching my left Air Jordan right in his ball sack for being a Chuck Barris-level liar… And then I’m catching him right in the side of his gross head with a flaming hot tea kettle of a haymaker! You might be able to pass those wooden nickels off as truths to the idiots milling around at the Fart Bar, but you ain’t tricking me son — I see through you dawg, I can smell your ulterior motives, I got you jotted down as suspect No. 1, ‘cause your little Hugo Schwyzer is showing, all the way now.

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