by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmith@gmail.com or martinantonsmith@gmail.com
Of course 3rd Wave Feminism hasn’t quite ruined the life of the indie-writer just yet.
But this is only because the 3rd Wave Feminists only use computers for X-rated reasons.
And since I am a survivor of the affair it is now it is possible to tell a wild mariners tale.
It all started like this….
“So all and all it was a good week for us all.
And as a bonus to the week I looked at the shipping news in the paper and it said:
“A boat load of 3rd Wave radical feminists were on a giant boat to an academic conference on hairy armpits,
But halfway across the ocean,
A storm was created by disgruntled girlboss-fired men who from the vantage point on a rubber dinghy,
Were blowing furiously upon the seawater,
In what could be described as a successful attempt to create a localized-mini-tsunami.
This Tsunami-to-order would capsize the giant feminist carrying boat loaded with giant feminists.
In a scene akin to a warped version of the sinking of the Titanic,
And Ironically by the time the third wave of the man-made Tsunami hit,
The boat had capsized entirely with no survivors whatsoever –
Other than all of the boats fifteen men who manned the engine room, the communications and the bridge.
They survived by the ingenuity of hoisting themselves up upon the giant floating mountainous pile of ‘ Germain Greer’s The Female Eunuch’ books,
That the women (an I use that term loosely) had all taken with them on the trip.
The men in the rubber dinghy who caused this mighty victory regaled the following wry-eye-witness account:
“As the giant vessel capsized we first saw a number of huge bilge rats jump into the sea followed by the male shipmen. The women just shrieked and cuddled each other. As the men and the rats jumped off the ship they all seemed to have smiles on their both little and big faces. One of the rats looked at a now breast-stroking shipmen and said in perfect English – ‘thank god we are rid of those strange ghastly ladies’. As the boat boomingly ruptured and splintered into three distinct pieces we heard the cacophony of bloodcurdling anti male shrieks. This was both on the way down, and also once sunk the lady-shrieks were also inexplicably emanating from the mile-deep ocean floor. It was almost a pity none of the women on board wore life jackets – partly on account they were not stretchy enough to get around their wastes – but mainly due to the fact they were ‘made by a evil man to trap and ensnare a woman’. We really shouldn’t have laughed and high-fived when we saw it all from the vantage point of our dinghy – but it also would have been a crime not to. Along with all the rescued male shipmen we even saved at least half of the bilge-rats, including the talking one and fed them all both full size and miniature cups of tea. Incidentally, we fed the talking bilge rat the finest earl grey tea to which he was well chuffed. In the now overfilled dinghy we paid a ceremonial salute to the fallen the now bottom dwelling and still-complaining Third-Wave Feminists. For this salute-to-the-fallen we each only needed our middle finger pointed steadfastly towards the water.
The men of the mission then celebrated the sinking via publishing an account of the fine para-military mission in a book entitled:
“When The Third Wave Hit A Good Time Was Had By All” – Especially The Whales Who Feasted On The Bloated Carcasses”.”.
Get it at all pro-male bookstores throughout the country –
That is you need to ask for my mate Terry,
Who will under cover of the night take you out to his backyard and dig out one of the fifteen plastic-wrapped hand-printed copies from out the ground.
But only if his pencil skirt and laptop wearing missus isn’t watching.
Poor Terry, but sometimes you have to take one for the team.
And that’s all from the shipping news today.
And as always for all the red blooded men in the yellow rubber para-military dinghies of the sea – always remember your pro-life jackets”
Anton Martin Smith Writer 