FREE WILL OF FORTUNE PART 2

Previously in Part 1, Lady Gaga taught us how we can all exploit the LGBTQIA velvet mafia to keep us in Valentino polka-dot capes and Alexander McQueen highland rape jeans.

Gaga's asshole couture was torn this way

Free willing me softly with her song about daring soft libertarianism

The latest neuro-science isn’t yet conclusive, but it’s not looking good for strong free will at all. We do know that most people intuitively believe in some kind of ability for them to consciously choose which creepy alcoholic clown prostitute to violate with a rubber chicken riding a tiny bicycle. Interestingly to megalomaniacs like me, these beliefs can be manipulated by the use of Benny Hill seduction techniques. With all the BBW body of knowledge we have stacked up, you’d think professional thinkers would have worked it out by now, but the views of the philosophers are nonsensical and all over the map similar to the annual global Islamic State cosplay pageant for disenfranchised toddlers.

I therefore see no reason to have only a single opinion on free will. I’ll put a few chips around the roulette table and hope that in the future one of my numbers will come up and I can claim victory over many of the philosophers and pundits who have dedicated their whole lives to being more wrong and unfunny than jokes about kittens being loved and cared for by cute, well-adjusted children.

Returning once again to the curious crime of Baroness Sharon Von Datsun (120Y) discussed in part 1 of this article, I have rendered her down to three broad free will range chicken fats:

1. Life is like watching an unpredictable movie about space cowboys

“I wish I knew how to moon-quint you.”

Ms 120Y had no choice over her actions and rewinding the Earth back in time, like Superman did in the 1978 movie, would result in the same outcome every time. So even the man of Danielle Steel couldn’t succeed if he went back in time to kill baby Hitler. Current US Republican candidate and lost-head nail-eater Jeb Bush might believe he can Step Up 2 The Streets of Braunau am Inn in the year 1890, but it’s Mission: Impossible – Aryan Nation.

The unconscious mind of the Baroness deterministically processed whether to stick up Kmart long before she was aware of it. She was not in control and could not change her actions. So it is no surprise that the rationalisations about her misdeeds make about as much sense as a conversation between Robin Williams’ scattered ashes and Joan Rivers’ melted plastic puddle.

2. Life is a bit like playing a 2.51572-dimensional video game

(like the original Crash Bandicoot on PlayStation)

There’s some freedom in our game world, but there is almost no way to break through the invisible walls and instead play the greatest torture-porn game of all time: Superman 64. Hence, Ms 120Y had some limited ability to do otherwise and running the experiment over and over would lead to a probabilistic distribution of outcomes. Maybe due to her parents’ influence, her late-onset-delinquent genes, her limited free will and her delusions of being the queen of the outer-outer suburbs, 70% of the time she would commit the crime and 30% of the time she would just sate her addictive personality through her Kitty-Kat and Kit-Kat Ko-dependencies.

One can absolutely argue that she still doesn’t have any control over which way she turns in this kind of Universe as it could be more like a roll in the board game Erotic Dice which comes up with ‘dance your Lionel on the ceiling’ most of the time. However there remains a Dash Doll of hope that there could be a kind of limited free will that emanates from an as-yet undiscovered first-cause-creating lobe in our brains. This lobe doesn’t work great and doesn’t work at all in some people, but many of us really can, every now and then, consciously choose to either screw the pooch or screw our partners dressed up as pooches instead.

Grown men from the Islamic State get misty-eyed by the mere mention of his re-recorded hit song with the lyrics changed to: "You're once, twice, 76 times a virgin; And I'll blow myself up for you"

3. Life is like a giant Gump of chocolates

(You are free to choose the peppermint one or the salted caramel shrimp one or even just give the box to your obese son and eat a salad instead)

Ms 120Y had a nice crunk of ability to not commit the crime. She understood right from wrong and, of her own free will, chose to stomp on every employee of Kmart: humans, robots and night-worker poo-replenishing mice. She was able to break the three laws of feline-female hybrid prudes and carefully hatched a plan for her heist; dressed in punish-me dominatrix black leather and backed by music from the Propellerheads.

Note that even free will flag wavers agree that some sub-humans like Jacqui Lambie and Donald Trump have almost no free will. This ilk of person doesn't have the insight or brain power to understand that they are put in positions of power by their overlords so the rest of us can revel in delight when they inevitably shoot themselves in their law-abiding Mexican maids. But not Ms 120Y. She knew what she was doing. She willfully committed atrocities and therefore needs to be dealt with by Ming the Merciless on the planet Mongo.

My favoured position for intense Thomas Aquinas-gasms

Position 1 (Sam Harris, the pubic propeller) might indeed be how the Universe works on the macroscopic scale, but I’ll put a few more chips on position 2 (Skylah Vegas, the erotic accordion). Position 3 (David Hume, the spitting spanker) is near impossible as far as I’m concerned. Through my own introspection and the latest scientific findings, there is pretty much no way that I can imagine us having a high degree of free will. Personally, I really don’t think I have much control over whether I’m writing this article filled with hum-zonker jokes or whether I’m going to give up and stare at the pretty coloured lights on my Roland Aira MX-1 sound mixer instead. For all I know, I could turn into a Hitler with a modern twist tomorrow and incite the easily manipulated rabble to kill all the quipsters who wear ironic post-post-post-modern t-shirts and tell you that it’s offensive to call their 1880 high wheeler bicycles by the term ‘penny-farthing’.

I do want to believe that I have at least some control over my own destiny and perfect control to never again play the abominable Destiny video game. I can’t justify this position at all really other than I think that is how our brains interact with the rest of the Universe and I haven’t been convinced by any of the other arguments I’ve heard about free will. It really seems like, at this point in time and for the foreseeable future, we just don’t know. Beardy old philosophers like Daniel Dennett make all sorts of convoluted arguments about free will which could be true as we can’t completely rule out his compatibilism, but they don’t really make sense to me and sound more wishy-washy than Emperor Splishy Sploshy from the House of Higgledy-Poggledy.

To date, philosophers have done a great job at framing the question of free will and the range of possible answers but it appears that no one can go any further by introspection alone. It’s been millennia and no clear winner has managed to toss all other competitors over the top rope in the Philosophers’ Royal Rumble; not even Arthur Schopenhauer, whose signature move was called the Metaphysical Musical Moonsault. As a hopeless romantic futurist, I’m almost certain that physics, neuroscience, AI, psychology and anthroposophical cryptozoology will, in the future, come up with all sorts of geneses and revelations about our brains and free will that no one will have seen or heard coming. (When a lonely hippie knocks one out in the forest and nobody else is there, does he really make a mournful whimpering sound during release?)

Only a 95% criminal in the Multi-facial Mega-verse?

Maybe one day I will be able to run the numbers and tell Sharon 120Y that there was a 95% probability that she was going to go feral; like many women do when they reach the age at which scumbag men would rather burn them at the stake than do them with their tube steaks. If this percentage were the case, then it wasn’t inevitable that she turned to crime to support her Barbie-bra bingo addiction, but it was near certain. There was little chance that, in our Universe, she could have consciously chosen to stay on the straight and curlies when, in the multi-verse, only 1 in 20 versions of her stayed exemplary examples of law-abiding human-cat-knitting-Heigl symbiosis. 

I think this could somewhat set her mind at ease but would this knowledge increase or decrease the likelihood that she’ll recommit? And is there a small chance that next time she’ll ramp it up in New York City with a sexually-based offense that is considered especially heinous requiring the sass of Elliot Stabler and the swiftness of Olivia Benson cat-detective to solve?

Probably to be continued in Part 3

Meet Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, John Munch and heinous rape-murder victims #2, #86, #94, #137, #259, #362 & #523

FREE WILL OF FORTUNE PART 1

My obsessions with free will, free won’t and freeing Willy Johnson from captivity began in earnest when an associate whom I’ll call Baroness Sharon Von Datsun (or 120Y for short) was arrested for believing she was both Tess Ocean and Julia Roberts from the movie Oceans Twelve. None of us thought she had the brains of Brainiac and the brawn of Eva Braun to pull off something so audacious. 120Y somehow managed to steal all the K's from all the Kmarts around town and fence them to the Ku Klux Klunges, Kath’s Krazy Kooches and Krusty Kyle’s Kitties. And she would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for some pesky kids and a mentally defective talking dog.

At first I was incensed at her complete lack of remorse and absence of empathy toward her victims. The sentient Kmart self-service checkout machines are emotionally sensitive and have been irreparably traumatised by her malfeasance. They are currently receiving treatment for post-troubleshooting software disorder (PTSD) and I wish them the best.

Now that my anger has subsided, I’m left with the lofty-leftie philosophical question of what ability the Baroness had to do otherwise. Could she have willed herself to beg, borrow and steal her boyfriend’s hallucinogenic pain medication and tripped balls while she gripped balls instead of becoming a Dickensian gonoph?

Many people despise philosophers and believe that free thinkers like me are Satan’s Saddam buddies. They just want vengeance and a brown eye for a pink eye for a straight guy. But the problem of feral middle-aged women wasn’t solved back in the day with all the burning and dunking entertainment. They are still around and causing trouble with their sex-repulsion sprays extracted from their cats. I don’t think we’ll be able to ‘cure’ any of them unless we deeply probe the Baroness and others of her ilk and explore what it’s like to put on sunglasses at night, steal a motorbike, be an Austrian cyborg and have John Connor riding behind us carrying the K’s through the darkness yelling, “easy money!”

So let’s do it like they do on the Crime Channel and find some unconvincing actors to recreate this whole mess and get some middle-aged divorced criminal psychologists to pretend they know why she turned to crime and why she went to a pet psychic to agree on a suicide pact with her cats if the law tried to dump her into Cell Block H with Queen Bea and Steamy the affectionate ironing press.

Free Will: who is he and why should he be paroled?

But just wait a cotton-pickin’ enslaved-will minute. What is free will anyway? And why have you ‘chosen’ to read this article when you don’t care if you have no free will and are a contraceptive automaton like the anti-evolutionist Ben Stein from the movie Ferris Bueller? The term ‘free will’ can mean almost anything anyway depending on which nonce philosopher is talking; whether they’re a compatibilist, an impossibilist or a Blank Space Swift-ologist. So who cares, right? Well, I’m not going to even try to convince you if that’s the way you feel. Besides, you are too busy trying to be the next cheerleading Nicole Arbour-style celebrity-whore fat-shamer who unfunny-satire rants that we can all choose to be skinny if we just fondle our boobs in cock-flopster movies like Silent But Deadly about lesbian Russian step-mother mail-order brides.

Ben Stein

If you’re still with me, I apologise. You must be one of the charmed who can see past the end of your own discharging pink bits. Do these quotes make any sense to you?

“God, our genes, our environment, or some stupid programmer keying in code at an ancient terminal - there's no way free will can ever exist if we as individuals are the result of some external cause.” Orson Scott Card, author of the novel Ender’s Game and an anti-gay extremist Mormon.

“I am an artist, and I have the ability and the free will to choose the way the world will envision me.” When Lady Gaga speaks, this is the kind of milky substance that comes out of her second hole.

This is where I put my money-shot where your mouth is and have a go at doing a better job than Googoo Gaga Rahrah and make some sense of the term in a way that even my pet Brain Gremlin can understand. I define free will as the ability to break with classical deterministic cause-and-effect and consciously choose on a course of action. Tyler Durden in the movie Fight Club implied that he had free will when he asked: “Now, a question of etiquette. As I pass do I give you the ass or the crotch?” To give an equally delicious example, let’s say you believe that you like chocolate and strawberry ice-cream equally. You go to the convenience store at 3am to try and quell your loneliness and they have both of these flavours in the brand that you like. How do you choose which to buy?

Classical determinists would say that this decision was locked in from the Big Bang when the Universe was created from the void between God’s ears and the long chain of cause-and-effect has brought you to the Happy Holdup convenience store on this night. You might think you are making a decision, but this is an illusion to help you cope with the bleakness of fecundity. Your brain can come up with some fanciful explanation for why you think you chose chocolate, but it was never going to be strawberry because of an unconscious memory of mother calling you a raspberry twat-shake when you were four. If, on the other hand, you can break determinism through some weird 11th-dimensional quantum-string-bubble effect, then perhaps you really do have the ability to consciously choose chocolate, then go home, smear it all over your face, innocently post your photo on Instagram with an ironically racist comment, then promptly get fired from your job for doing black-face.

To be continued in Part 2

EXTREMIST BINGO! PART 2

Link to Part 1

In part 1 of this series, I won a Mel Gibson 'blow me' doll by filling the first line of my extremist bingo card, but that wasn't enough to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world; like I'm the only one that you'll ever abuse; like I'm the only one who knows your cooze. One extremist gets supercalifragilistic-expialidocious-ed by typhoid Mary Poppins for every square crossed off, so I will not be able to satisfy myself until I Clean Sweep and Pyrolysis Sooty all 25 squares. I'll then hand the deck over to Kimmy Gibbler and challenge her to get a Fuller House in extremist-twink-stud poker.

6. Ideology Reduced To Simple Narratives

Jesus protected himself from the Romans with his favourite pistol; a custom IPSC 1911 45ACP

“The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.” Wayne LaPierre quote, the US National Rifle Association’s executive vice president.

My thoughts are that there are too many Americans and their numbers will continue to grow until Donald Trump completes construction on his impenetrable death wall and impenetrable father-daughter incest chastity belt. My fellow American friends inflict so much suffering on the rest of the World in the name of the almighty Oprah's cooch pooch; something like one million dead in the middle East at the hands of mostly barely-legal teenagers who call the young children they massacre 'sand nigglets'. They have as much chance of re-building a country as I have of shooting my jizz to the moons of Uranus and impregnating Portia de Rossi.

We all agree that the US is a country of mostly gun-inserting, Jesus-sodomising megalomaniacs. But many of the inner-city leftie regressive toddlers don't even own a single semi-automatic rifle. I agree with the NRA: arm up. Arm your young; arm your old; arm your developmentally delayed; arm your paroled. More guns means fewer Americans. If the hopeless bullied dweebs can be better trained and slay half the children in their schools instead of only a few, that would be a great start. I believe the children are our future; teach them guns and let them lead The Purge. Fewer little American nits now should lead to a far more peaceful World in the next generation. And for those that manage to dodge the bullets, I'll personally assist them in going the way of Whitney Houston and drowning in bathtubs full of cocaine and misery while singing 'Blow will always love you'.

7. Outsider & Ex-Member Demonization

How did Shermon deal with lefties in his workplace? He lost his job!

Shermon Burgess is the former leader of the Australian Anti-Islam United Patriots Front. Watching his videos makes me want to marry Bjork and go and become a whale trophy-hunting operator in Iceland. On a parody video aimed at Burgess that he says is the reason he stepped down, he claims the video was made by a man who "goes to patriot rallies, but he’s really a lefty".

Everyone not totally on board his Aryan-bogan-protecting M4 Shermon Tank must be against him in his befuddled nut. His followers must complement his wife beater mentality and shirt and his obviously racist hat adjustments or they will be banished to the fiery planet of Mustafar for being a lefty. Post-modernist left winged flying monkeys annoy me as well but I don't demonise them and I certainly don't believe that they are causing the downfall of Australia; which is still easily one of the world's top 200 countries. 

It makes me so happy that Shermon 'the tanker' stepped down after some of his followers mocked him and pointed out what a joke he is. I love it when vocal but insignificant extremist groups implode under the weight of their own reality-free halal-slaughtering fantasies. How much did that hurt his little-boy big-fight soul? He lost his job and his former followers take him about as seriously as they would a female left-wing lesbian First Australian. The best comedy is real life and the best real life is when someone gets chicken plucked by their own people. I've been laughing at this guy for months and now even his former followers are too. So basically everyone now thinks that animated furry Care Bear golden-rainbow-shower porn is more beneficial to society than he is.
Is there any chance he's going to reform his ways or is he in too deep with hatred of Muslims, Lefties, First Australians, women, woofters and above all, resentment towards hard-working Australians that don't get kicked out of every rental property because their Nazi skinhead mates trash the joint and gas with Zyklon B any passers-by that look a bit brown or Jewy.

8. Humourless About Ideology

"There are certain things about the Holocaust that should be taboo. This is especially true for Jews, for whom the Holocaust is still a deeply painful memory. It is vulgar and offensive for anybody to use the death of 6 million Jews and millions of others in the Holocaust to make a joke, but this is especially true for someone who is Jewish and who proudly and publicly wears her Jewishness on her sleeve." Abraham Foxman quote, Former American Anti-Defamation League Director.

And what was this disgusting joke? Hold on to your Jew shoes and be prepared for a combination of letters more offensive than Israeli tank music. Joan Rivers was commenting on how amazing Heidi Klum looked in an Achtung Cleavage Baby dress at the 2013 Academy Awards:

"The last time a German looked this hot was when they were pushing Jews into the ovens."

Why does this dress make me think of German Weisswurst sausages?

I have no doubt that Fantastic Mr Foxman believed that he was saving humanity from evil when his Cuban-America intern wrote the press release, but he completely missed the point just like every Jewish basketballer disappointment. His ideology seems to be that Jews need to be protected like defenseless babies floating down the river from Roman comedians, German comedians, Guatemalan comedians, prop comedians and, above all else, from traitorous Jewish comedians; Jewish comedians just trying to do their job and make people laugh and maybe lightly remind the World that the Holocaust was kind of bad. One sharp-tongued joke can do so much more than droning academics at teaching average folks about the shyte that went down in the World and continues to go down. The example I usually give is that without comedy, I would never have heard about the Great Jewish Beaver Slaughter of 1374.

I'm pretty sure Abra-ham sandwich is not an extremist Zionist with plans to inflict bland desert slave food on the world; but he was using extremist tactics to attempt to shut Rivers up. If he didn't want to gag her and gas her, he's certainly telling Rivers how to do her job and to be someone different to who she was. Losing your identity is like telling someone to stop being such a Jew. Is this ironic? I'll tell people like him how to do their jobs: stop using celebrities for your attention-seeking outdated ideologies and accept the power of shock comedy. We shouldn't silence comedians unless they're being mean-spirited or are handicapped and their whole act is cripple jokes.

Was Fox-Mulder-man happy when plastic surgery achieved his final solution; an achievement that no Egyptian managed when Joan was a slave-girl building the pyramids? The question must be asked if Redd Foxx-man used some of his dirty defamation money to bribe the surgeon and make it look like an accident. Abraham was most likely cheering when he heard the news of her death. But it really depresses me that she'll never make another suffocating holocaust joke again. I need to be constantly reminded that I shouldn't start yelling in German to start another Jewish Holocaust. The Jews are alright. It's the Armenians that have to be wiped out for creating the Kardashians. Those vapid ugly sisters have left me completely soft and unable to masturbate to my peccadillo: Jewish-German gas-chamber scat porn.

9. It’s War! Fighting Words

"Whose side are you on?" Tony Abbott quote, former Prime Minister of Australia.

What prompted this scathing attack from Tony Abort? Was this high treason from an Indonesian James Bond who tapped into Abbott's wife's phone and her secret shower cam? Not exactly. It was Tony up to his old extremist tricks again attacking his own national broadcaster. Indirectly threatening to obliterate the ABC was a running theme of the previous federal administration in Australia and their fighting words galvanised the community and gave Andrew Bolt intense Abbott-gasms. This is what extremists do; they try to convince you that either you are totally for their hyperbolic, vitriolic, destruct-aholic, anabolic anger or totally against them. Abbott and Co made it seems like if you opposed them, you would be buried in the foundations of Joe Hockey's 17th house.

Just because I moderately defended the ABC, I was labelled as anti-government and told by one Twitter 140-character ranter that the ABC must go or at the very least become privately owned. I do think that the ABC is important for the cohesion of Australian society; especially in rural and remote regions, but the personality machines Michael Rowland, Paul Kennedy and their mates aren't perfect. Most of the ABC do lean left and they have to be constantly vigilant to stay stuck in the middle and treat all politicians with equal contempt. They do a pretty good job of this, but being in the middle wasn't good enough for Uncle Tony, who seemed to want a North Korean-style government propaganda broadcaster.
At least now the worst Prime Minister in Australia's history is our ex-Prime Minister. It's so great when these guys are deposed by their own party then pretend that their ego and budgies are still intact when they are shedding tears into the ocean while surfing. Meanwhile, the ABC keeps doing its thing: bland comedy, dull drama and non-sensational news programming.

"We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious Prime Minister-ship. They stole it from us. Sneaky little Turnbull-ses. Wicked, tricksy, false! "

10. Delusions Of Grandeur

"We fear not the swarms of planes, nor ballistic missiles, nor drones, nor satellites, nor battleships, nor weapons of mass destruction. How could we fear them, while Allah the Exalted has said, ‘If Allah should aid you, no one can overcome you'" From ISIS rag Dabiq.

ISIS missed the verse in the holy scriptures stating that Toyotas were the devil's chariots

ISIS have been reasonably effective so far when compared with other Dr Doomsday cults. Some people claim that the Wayans Brothers will destroy civilisation with their anti-comedy brain-mushing technology before ISIS kick their boyfriends out of bed and make their next propaganda video with singing even more annoying than Japanese J-pop girl group AKB48. I'm not sure who will take us down to funky town. All I know is that ISIS, the Wayans and AKB48 need to be barraged mercilessly by air strikes; and Tito Wayans must go first.

Islamic State have restrained themselves in floral-printed strait-jackets and pink short shorts but they don't have Martin Riggs' shoulder-popping Jewish super-powers. They believe in a version of the prophecy laid out in their holy texts which can't happen in this reality. They will kill many; they will be partially successful in undermining peaceful global society; but they will not win. The ancient Roman army won't jump in their TARDIS quadrigas and come to 2018 to be destroyed by them. I'm more likely to suck out all the excess carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and poop out extinct rodents than they are to install a World Caliphate. Their leaders are no doubt fully aware of this, but this delusion of grandeur gets the pigeon-toed, cross-eyed, curved-spined, young testosterone-bags fired up and ready to slaughter random non-combatants whose only sin is being a moderate and openly enjoying the occasional homosexual dalliance.

We can all pretty much agree that ISIS are laughable and pathetic. But many of us understandably fear criticising them in any way or depicting their main prophet in black leather assless chaps being back-doored by a black endowed chap because the doomsday cult are violent and can mobilise 15 year olds to murder in the name of a non-existent god. You might be scared but I'm more afraid of Taylor Swift's posse's combined menses destructive powers than I am of these extremist f*cktards.

To be continued in episode 3 where Darth Vader yells 'NO' when IG-88 propositions him for a robo-power-drilling.

THE C WORD THAT YOU CAN'T SAY YOU MISOGYNIST ENDOWED WITH PENIS-ITIS

Kenny G-spot shuts up his woman with three of his saxophones

Please put on some Kenny G saxopho-droning, take a deep breath and relax, don't do it, when you want to come. Now make yourself foam at the preputial sphincter by listening to your favourite uninformed blonde female power-suited schlock jock. How many florid insults can you come up with to stuff in her throat until her mascara is running down her pouty cheeks?

In your poetic, degrading tirade, the F-bomb most likely features prominently in nearly every sentence because it is so folking versatile: noun, verb, adjective, adverb, humiliating sexual act between ice cream truck doggers; it's far-king great, you far-car. How about hardening it up to eleven-teen and spraying out the C-word? Most consider this to be the worst word in the English language; with bae coming in a close second. If you want to get depressed at how much our society can abhor women, consider the old saying about the C-word: 'a nasty name for a nasty pus-queefing thing.'

Take a look at how many derogatory slang words there are for women; my favourites are 'minger' and 'double-stuffed oreo'. I think we need some wise words from the renowned feminist scholar, Ke$ha, to raise the tone: "Take it up where we go hardcore and there's glitter on my whore door." Auto-tune this regularly to remind you that women are so much more than walking cheesy pant burgers and chest milkshakes.

Wisdom of Kesha: "I think it's cool to wear creepy old ghost pirates"

So let's list out some of this maleficently misogynistic language and compare with the equivalent meat-popsicle misandronistic terms. The male versions just don't quite have the same zing to the wang, which is what you would expect as shriveled sausage men control the world, control language and control Athena, the goddess of shutting the f*ck up and staying in the kitchen. I have also had a go at coming up with some gender-neutral terms that may be preferable to use when you don't want to be a sexist reverse triple-fister in the pike position.

Misogynistic term (F) / Misandronistic term (M) / Androgynistic term (A)

F: c*nt / M: cock / A: tainted love taint

F: twat / M: prick / A: wrathful hypo-gonad

F: witch / M: wizard / A: pan-fried-pagan-plunker

F: dragon lady / M: dragon douche / A: where's the slag rag in drag gone?

F: Melisandre's vagina smoke monster from Game of Thrones / M: Big Billy, the one-eyed snatch-slaying monster from The PowerPuff Girls / A: Draculaura, a 1599-year-old vampire hermaphrodite from Monster High that wines, dines, drugs then violates itself

F: old biddy / M: old buddy / A: old butty breacher

F: haggard crone / M: distinguished silver-fox / A: old fart smashed peach tart

F: bitch / M: dog / A: Comet, the dirty snowballer

Ancient Chinese bull getting done bear back 

F: cow / M: hung like a Chinese bull / A: butter-face booty-grazing bovine

F: she-devil / M: shim-devil / A: shart-blumpkin-whore-devil

F: hag / M: Boss Hogg / A: hobo-handjob boson

F: Succubus / M: Incubus / A: bisexual banana bus

F: slut / M: stud / A: flirting, perverting slud

F: whore / M: man-whore / A: swinging back door confectionery store

F: bimbo / M: himbo / A: sexual akimbo limbo

F: hoe-bagel / M: hoe-sausage / A: sloppy blow-hoe

F: yummy mummy / M: caddy daddy / A: pink-sock poking errant parent

The sweet sag of mummy marshmallow bat wings

You might be getting turtle-slapped by the pointy end of my stick by now. Our language is sexist. Men have a distinct vocabulary advantage so all that women can do to try and equalise the relationship is nag nag nag until the man has no choice but to strap her to a table with a slowly moving laser that gives Xenia Onatopp plenty of time to escape and seek out banging pleasure from, then dole out thigh-squeezing revenge on Goldfinger.

If you'd like to balance out the relationship, try this one out: role play swapping clothes, exchanging sanitary 'horror of the menstrual clot monster' napkins and undergoing pink-pantaloon-pineapple-reassignment surgery. Then have a c*nt-grunting fight over dressing up your children as bandage-bondage, smoking-fetish, Lolita-pegging prostitutes for Halloween. The 'Chaz Bono' could call the 'Caitlyn Jenner' a cum-slurping brown-butter slut, then lock her up in the vintage shabby rustic chic wooden box under the bed. Hopefully the wilting willy owner gets the point that many of his best verbal weapons have been taken away and this dis-empowers and brutally de-flowers him.

My last question is: should we stop using the C-word due to its undeniable misogyny? We can go three ways with this I think, just like celebrity chef Matt Moran:

1. Maintaining the Status Quo's 'Big Fat Mama's Dainty Little C*nt'. Keep calling your children the C-word when they deserve it. Shout 'C*NT!' at your boss when it's time to move on to greener 'brekkie bong' pastures on your mate dirty Derek's couch.

2. Phase out the C-word and make it as socially unacceptable to use as the N-word and the X-word. Pass a law requiring people to be c*nt-munted whenever they say c*nt, smell c*nt, see c*nt, taste c*nt, listen to screaming c*nt or elbow-f*ck c*nt.

3. Make the word acceptable to use by removing the fishy stigma. Instead of using euphemisms like hot dog bun with special sauce, use Front Admiral C*nty C*ntington. Pass a law requiring all children to say cock and c*nt in as cute voices as possible. Ban terms like girly-doodle, boy-foo-foo and Uncle Fester the indentured child molester investor.

So which is it to be? Which way would you like us to go? Which way do you think society will go with the 'frothy c*nt cappuccino' word? And how many ways could you use a cucumber soothing gel bottle to teach the c*nts in your life an axe-wounding lesson?

My wife's cucumber is greener and uncircumcised

Further reading for all you hateful andronists:

http://www.independent.co.uk/…/witches-a-history-of-misogyn…