The other night I was attending a classy cocktail sort of function, dressed in my best. Everything was going smoothly, I was entrancing some saucy babes with my patented routine about the undeniable misandry in our society when I was suddenly confronted by some fucking feminazis. How dare I infer that men are the most discriminated against in our society, she asks, and rattles off some bullshit rape statistics or whatever. I wasn’t really paying too much attention. I coolly riposte with some facts about circumcision that I’m assuming that you, my well read and intelligent readers, will already know about to the applause of those around me.

People around us are looking tense, as our voices become heated. We agree to take it outside at which point she unsheathes the oily black riding crop perennially attached to her vulpine, leather-clad thighs. Before I can blink, she slaps it across my cheek and orders me to my hands and knees in her rich Teutonic accent. I obey, upon which