Okay, I know what you're thinking: this is so hateful, so misogynist, so ageist that neither of us can even, right? Wrong, toots -- or as I now respectfully refer to women, Front-Hole-Having Potential Sperm Bank. Sure, Jennifer Lawrence is destined to degenerate into an irrelevant slob, but no matter how she looks or how many boring, trite dramas in which she's showcased, she's as funny as temporally displaced Dane Cook squatting iconically on Freddy Mercury's deathbed to deliver a joke about AIDS, the punch line of which concludes with, "you fucking cocksucking sodomite!" Withal, she's also more boring than that. On the other hand, M.J. Pehl was always funny, so checkmate, sister.
When I finally become the first guy to receive the Woman of Courage Award for my contributions to positive depictions of Strong Women in independent funny books in the line of fire (fire in this case being every malcontent who buys a comic from me, then bitches on Twitter that "it didn't seem to go anywhere," "it was boring," "it didn't pass Section 4G of the codified Bechdel Test, Volume 6, Revision 18"), I fully intend to regale all the ladies in attendance with my trademark comedy, just to prove that I have no hard feelings against their gender. My subsequent jokes about abortion, domestic abuse, Ani DiFranco's deformed face and genitals, and the marital and maternal prospects of all present will be derided by the embittered, picayune press for, inter alia, "numerous" "shouted" "offensive" "ethnic slurs," even though like 40% of them were uttered against varieties of white people, and that pretty much countervails all of the "hate speech" that I swear to god I raised my voice to deliver about The Cider House Rules because all those bulldykes in the first two rows just wouldn't shut up after that second joke about pickup trucks and what would probably happen if abortion were illegal, just to hear myself talk.
Consequently, those jests will be a lot like everything that's transpired since I typed, "Okay, I know what you're thinking" and right now: they'd inspire connotations Against Me, and worse, Against My Career that are not only false and calumniatory (and therefore legally actionable, so maybe shut your pie hole or stop typing on Twitter before I pauperize you, idiot), but also, admittedly, resulted from all my equivocation. In the interest of clearing my name in advance by disambiguation, let me clarify: I do not hate women at all, except for approximately twenty of them who I'll probably list on this blog at some future date. Jennifer Lawrence isn't among them; I'm just entertained by how fucked up she is. Bless up, Sisterhood!
© 2018 Robert Buchanan
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