Whatever you do don't dial +1(323) 634-5667
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Wow, just wow. I came here to protect women, but now I'm being THREATENED, and this has gone ONE step TOO FAR. That's it. I'm calling my local police because a poster here has broken the law. Hopefully this site will be shut down!
I remember a particularly grand oppression of the female gender! I was driving down the freeway in New Orleans in that supreme symbol of the Patriarchy, a pickup truck... It was late, I was on my way home from a night of enforcing the sinister will of the Patriarchy by holding open doors for women and delighting in their terror as they shrunk away from my dark whispers of "It was my privilege," as they passed through. And what do I chance to spy on the side of the road? Why, two vulnerable ladies on the side of the road, next to a car with a flat tire. I cackle in joy, as I am about to use my oppresive powers to subjegate two more women! My phallus can barely contain it's might! Slowly, smoothly, I pull up on the shoulder of the road behind their Toyota Echo. Already, the other male drivers can see what is about to happen, and as they drive by, each pounds upon their breast shouting a patriarchal warcry! The rising and falling of their cries of "WAAAARRRGHHH!!!" is an eerie crescendo on the road. The ladies freeze in terror, they know what is about to happen. I ask them, "Is everything ok?", to which the older one, I believe the younger's mother, stammers "N-n-no, we have a f-f-f-lat tire and I c-can't fig-g-g-ure out how to ch-change it..." She looks away, horrified. The younger, a petite blonde about my age, promptly bursts into tears asshe realizes they are about to be oppressed! I grin my evil patriarchy grin and ask "Would you like me to give you a hand?" The two women, indoctrinated with a lifetime of dread patriarchy, can do nothing but accept. Fear fills their eyes as I get to work changing their tire. A car of women drives by, and I can see them crying inside their vehicle, though from sympathy or happiness it's not them being opressed, I can't say. As I busy myself with the tire iron, a mighty symbol of the power of men, I crack a joke to enforce my position of superiority as I kneel in the dirt in the hot Louisiana night. They laugh, not because it's funny, but because they know things will only be worse for them if they displease me while I'm oppressing them. The younger, in a desperate attempt to mollify my patriarchal might and superior position, asks me directions to a familiar French Quarter bar. I take the opportunity to further degrade them, by happily telling them how to get there. They quail in terror, features white, holding eachother in their shared fear as I suggest a specialty drink from the bar. The tire changed, I replace the tools and flat tire in their trunk. We're almost done here, but I want to make sure I've oppressed them as much as possible. They silently begin to cry as I use my evil Male Knowledge and say "Be careful, this one is just a doughnut. It's not meant to be on there very long, and it's not made to drive over 55. Make sure you get it changed out or you run the risk of it blowing." They are no longer crying silently, but bawling openly in the streets at the terror I've inflicted. The mother manages to crack a brave smile and stammer a thank you through the tears. The daughter, however, knows the toll that the patriarchy must collect. She sobs, through tears of horror at what she knows she must do, "Th-thank you, you've s-s-saved muh-muh-my 21st birthd-d-day.", she closes her eyes tight against the horror of what she is about to do, and hugs me in terror on the side of the road. My patriarchal dues not yet paid, she presses a gas station reciept with her name and number on it into my hand. I look at them levely and utter the final blow, completely obliterating their spirits: "It was my privilege." They flee back to their car and drive off into the night, thoroughly oppressed by me and my patriarchy. Ah, it's good to be male.
>Go on a date with girl >Take her to nice restaurant >She orders a shrimp cocktail and several drinks >Ask for the check >The waiter places the check in front of me, not in front of her, not in the middle of the table >Look of horror comes across the girl's face >I reach for the check and place my credit card inside >She begins to tremble >Tears well up in her eyes >I can tell she is paralyzed by fear at the oppression she is experiencing >I chauvinistically place the check with the my credit card on the table in front of me, daring her to do something about it >The power of my oppression of this woman surges through my body as I lean back in my seat and stare directly at her >She is shaking with fright, the oppression strangling her voice away >The waiter returns to take the check away >All is lost to her now >Men at other tables begin to stand up and clap >Women all over the restaurant begin to shriek and cry >I feel my erect penis lift the tablecloth in front of me >I ask my date, "Did you enjoy your dinner?" >"Y-yes... thank you", she says behind a mask of tears >I lean forward, a devious, patriarchal smile spreading across my face >And I tell her, "It was my privilege."
See a woman using her laptop in the airport I notice it has stopped working My oppressive male heart fills with sadistic malice towards her I walk up to her, grinning with savage glee Shock and horror fills her face as she sees me looming over her Her eyes brim with tears She cowers and begs “P-please don’t, sir…”My engorging penis begins to rip the seams of my pants as I leer and say “Pardon me, but I couldn’t help noticing you’re having computer troubles. If you don’t mind, I’m sure I could fix them.”Her eyes downcast, she mumbles “o-okay”I savagely take her computer and begin to fix the rather simple problem as tears stream down her face All the men around me begin laughing evilly and hooting like wild apes of Borneo, reveling in her oppression I hand it back to her, saying darkly that it should be working now Testosterone fueled ecstasy fills me as I watch her spirit crumble She weakly takes it from my strong male grip All the women in the airport are now forced on their knees from the oppression in the air Defeated, broken, she feebly sobs “Thank you” as the last of her independence disappears As I go to catch my flight, I smugly reply “It was my privilege”
Well shit. It's been nice knowin' ya Rage. You're going to jail.
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