Straight man, don’t bother me
Straight man, don’t bother me
Straight man, don’t bother me
You don’t interest anybody
***
Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Men are but a dream
***
The wheels on the bus go round and round,
round and round;
round and round.
The wheels on the bus go round and round,
all through the town.
The wipers on the bus go mis-an-dry,
mis-an-dry;
mis-an-dry,
The wipers on the bus go mis-an-dry,
all through the town.
The horn on the bus says kill all men,
Kill all men;
Kill all men.
The horn on the bus says kill all men,
all through the town.
***
Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack
All dressed in black, black, black
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons
All down her back, back, back.
She asked her mother, mother, mother
for fifty cents, cents, cents
To see the zoo, zoo, zoo
With all the men, men, men.
***
When Johnny comes marching home again
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll give him a women’s welcome then
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men are gone and the boys have fled
The ladies will collect their final head
When Johnny comes marching home.
***
The old gray male, he ain’t what he used to be,
Ain’t what he used to be, ain’t what he used to be,
The old gray male, he ain’t what he used to be,
Many long years ago.
Many long years ago, many long years ago,
The old gray male, he ain’t what he used to be,
Many long years ago.
***
A-hunting we will go, a-hunting we will go
(Heigh-ho, the derry-o, a-hunting we will go
A-hunting we will go, a-hunting we will go)
We’ll catch the boys and we’ll let them make noise
And then we’ll use our knives.
***
Three little kittens they lost their mittens,
And they began to cry,
Oh, mother dear, we sadly fear
Our mittens we have lost.
What! lost your mittens, you naughty kittens!
Then men worldwide shall die.
Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.
Yes, men worldwide shall die.
***
I’m a little teapot, short and stout
Here is my handle, here is my spout
When I get all steamed up, hear me shout:
Dismantle the patriarchy without mercy.
***
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,
That’s my name too.
Whenever I go out,
The people always shout,
“ONE HAS ESCAPED. END HIM.”
***
Head, shoulders, knees and toes
Knees and toes
Head, shoulders, knees and toes
Knees and toes
Eyes and ears and mouth and nose
Men don’t have any of those!
Tags: lullabies, misandry, misandry is real…real cool, tra la la la la
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This strikes me as a little bit OTT, but I have a male friend 🙂 who laughed at this, so it’s fine
Luckily for the rest of us, it would still be fine even if your male friend didn’t laugh at it.
We don’t fucking care if he likes it.
I think LaTercera was kidding.
I know, I just wanted a chance to say it, as Amy Poehler is our patronus and such as.
Matronus?
High five, my friend, high five.
In this context, I’m envisioning your palm and my face!
Despite the fact that I like the word “Matronus” a lot, I nonetheless feel obliged to point out that the proper Roman term for a female “Patronus” is “Patrona”.
i was doing my silent laughter thing but when i got to “ONE HAS ESCAPED. END HIM.” i chortled embarrassingly loudly in this quiet office.
THAT ONE IS EXCELLENT.
i think it’s the way it breaks abruptly from the rhythm of the song that gets to me. it’s incredible.
I spat tea onto a stack of checks at that one, which isn’t ideal, but no harm no foul.
I lost it at “The horn on the bus says kill all men” etc
But they are all amazing.
This version of When Johnny Comes Marching Home is deliciously terrifying.
I like the assumption in John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt that “people” means “women.” It’s a refreshing change.
THIS IS THE BEST THING.
Good day for it too, because some dude tried to poach my research by asking if I’d give him a.) my data and b.) a short presentation on how my data should applied. A dude I have met, but not often enough that I could definitely identify him if he weren’t wearing a name tag. Just an e-mail, out of nowhere, asking if I’d send him all my stuff.
Next time he asks, I’ll just hum “Head and Shoulders”.
wowowow what a shitsmear. I hope you sent him a read receipt and nothing else (or went appropriately batshit; either’s great).
Oh, I was cheery as could be. He missed a talk I was giving because he was having coffee, but I assured him a video will be online in a couple of weeks. It won’t, I opted out of being videotaped. That should buy me a month or so. Then I’ll say we can meet at the next conference in March – which I’m not going to. Then I’ll send him corrupted files for a couple of months, and by then, it should be in publication.
I look forward to YEARS of productive collaboration.
I’ve read this three times now, and with each reading my admiration of you grows. You are a up there with the Siberian woman on the bus (an anecdote I hope you read at the time, because search doesn’t seem to include comments).
I should work “Your talking makes me sleepy.” into my ongoing trolling.
Hooray!
Oh, this is delightful. Thank you!
I feel that acting it out would not be out of bounds. Who even does that?
This guy. This guy has made a habit of it.
Wait, how is this even allowed? And who would ever, ever give someone else their research before publication, except as part of a review process? Has he ever been called out on it?
ETA: I’m not an academic, so I’m not concern trolling – I just didn’t know this was a thing!
I’m a master’s student at a mediocre university, he’s a postdoc at a fancy one. When someone finds something cool as part of their research, but needs to graduate and get a job post haste, it is considered kind and good to pick up their research, finish it, and publish it. His lab does this a lot; this is GOOD for our field because people blindly investigating new paths often can’t follow through on all the cool stuff they find before going back into the job market. It’s very good for their lab because they turn out lots and lots of very impressive publications.
Their M.O. – co-publishing with people who aren’t at Fancy U – means that the dude gets a lot of cover for trying to convince people that their data is only meaningful as part of an aggregate paper, and that he should take their data and publish it for them – save them all that tedious being an author on the paper stuff. Give you special thanks in the acknowledgements.
He has been called out on it by a woman in his lab – and she is one of my dearest friends, which is how I knew he was a pile of butts.
Wow. That is rage-inducing. What a jackhole. 🙁
I can’t wait until I have a child, so I can sing that version of “I’m a little teapot” to it.
I would wear that t-shirt.
Yeah I loved that one too pahahaa
I have missed these! Tra la la la la la la.
OH GOD how I need the second one to be true
The women on the bus save room for cats
Room for cats
Room for cats
The women on the bus save room for cats
Don’t touch my seat
Bless you.
I came for the Lucy Liu pic. I stayed for the misandry. Feeling pretty good about my choices at the moment.
Where do I catch the misandry bus?
wanna go to that school
Hush little baby, don’t say a word
Because you’re a male child, and I’m really not interested in your opinions at this time
“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word
Ever; your sister is talking.”
I think this version of “Three Little Kittens” is a much more accurate assessment of cats than the original.
“And then we’ll use our knives.”
Don’t mess with us. And definitely not with Lucy Liu.
ring around the rosey
pocket full of posey
ashes, ashes
we all burn down the patriarchy
(I now know why I am not a Toast writer)
ashes ashes
we kill all men
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the queen’s men–horses were no longer necessary–
and all the queen’s men–men were exclusively used as horses in this kingdom–
couldn’t put Humpty together again
It is an unjust world in which I cannot thumbs-up this more than once.
Horses are absolutely necessary in my misandrist utopia.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty was made to fall
All the queen’s horses
and all the queen’s horses (for he was the last of them)
Trod upon Humpty again
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Tried to put Humpty together again
But women had gained reproductive autonomy
The patriarchy can never be repaired.
Mine contains a weird oblique reference to the original riddle, but yours has many fine, prancing horses. I think yours is better.
I am crying, CRYING. Seconding katiemcgillicuddy, this needs all the thumbs the world has to give.
How I wish I could sing in an eerie enough tone (or an in-tune enough tone) to do these the justice they deserve.
Golden slumbers fill your eyes.
Smiles awake you when you rise.
Sleep little darling, do not cry
We’ll hang the men all out to dry.
The men on the bus all spread their legs
spread their legs
spread their legs
So vulnerable
like soft boiled eggs
should your hot thermos fall down.
HA! It’s a wonder that doesn’t happen more in real life.
THE OLD GRAY MALE. ACTUALLY THE GREATEST THING EVER.
*sees headline, rushes to get out the embroidery supplies*
A good misandrist never runs out of embroidery supplies.
I love these so much it physically pains me.
My partner is a transwoman, I have only sons (sons too young to have a sense of humor to arm them), there is no one to whom I can sing these lovely songs–not even any male friends who would be okay with them.
Trans women can join in glorious misandry!
seems like this audience would appreciate this:
just smile serious
Nothing to add but these are perf
Though I smiled thinking about calling up a certain someone, singing The Old Grey Man, and hanging up.
These are nice poems! They are like the fairy tales which were the original versions very dark. But the fairy tales are happy now.
Eenie meenie miney mo
Catch a cisman by his toe
If he hollers, sew his mouth shut
Eenie meenie miney no.
Eenie meenie miney mo
Catch a cisman by his toe
If he hollers, sew his mouth shut
Eenie meenie miney NO.
Patriarchy is falling down
Falling down, falling down
Patriarchy is falling down
My fair mantoy
Rockabye baby, in the boardroom
Don’t worry about men
They’ll all be gone soon
Once they’re all gone
You’ll have your right place
And we’ll send their ashes off into space.
Hush little manchild
Don’t say a word
Your input’s not welcome
Despite what you heard
If by these rule you can’t abide
Might have an “accidental suicide”.
This is brilliant!
In ev’ry revolution to be won, there is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap, the job’s a game
And every task you undertake becomes a piece of cake
A lark, a spree, it’s very clear to see
That a spoonful of sugar helps the cyanide go down
The cyanide go down, the cyanide go down
Just a spoonful of sugar makes the cyanide go down
Man problem gone away…
Chim chiminy, chim chiminy, chim chim cheree
When killing all men, I’m as happy can be
Chim chiminy, chim chiminy, chim chim cheroo
We’ll all have good luck when we turn them to glue.
Chim chim chim chiminy, no cookies for you…
When you wish upon a star
You’ll wake up with men all far
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you.
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As misandrists do.
Twinkle, twinkle, devil’s av
You know naught but what you have
Up above the world so high,
Like a godthing in the sky.
Mansplain this and mansplain that
How I wonder where you’re at
Mute you all and then we’ll see
What humankind can really be.
Poison in coffee and itch cream in undies
Killing all men and most of the fundies
Strangling male necks with violin strings
These are a few of my favorite things
When the boss yells, when the phone rings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember misandrist things
And then I don’t feel so bad
Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go
To work the jobs we stole from men
Before we crushed their skulls all in
Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho ho…
Hi ho, the derry o
the wife takes a knife
the wife takes a knife
the wife takes a knife
hi ho the derry o
his wife takes his life
This is the way we kill the men
kill the men
kill the men
This is the way we kill the men
so early in the morning
We string them up and castrate them
castrate them
castrate them
We string them up and castrate them
and make them eat their balls.
This is the way we mock their fears
mock their fears
mock their fears
This is the way we mock their fears
And break their stupid egos.
This is the way we cut their brakes
cut their brakes
cut their brakes
This is the way we cut their brakes
before they leave for work, yeah.
This is the way we take their kids
take their kids
take their kids
This is the way we take their kids
and somehow make all the money.
This is the way we ruin their lives
ruin their lives
ruin their lives
This is the way we ruin their lives
per the femme conspiracy.
Just whistle while we kill
And cheerfully together we can tidy up the place
So hum a merry tune
It won’t take long when there’s a song to help us set the pace
And as we kill the men
Just think of the world that will be then
And soon you’ll find you’re dancing to the tune
(Spoken: Oh, no, no, no, no! Put them in the tub)
When hearts are high the time will fly so whistle while we drop the lye
Just whistle while we kill
Put on that grin and start right in to whistle loud and long
Just hum a merry tune
We’ll do our best and take a rest and sing ourselves a song
When there’s too much to do
Don’t let it bother you, forget your troubles,
And rejoice in our gleeful misandry
And whistle while we kill
Three blind men. Three blind men.
Hear how they talk. Hear how they talk.
They go on and on about colors and stuff.
Sunsets and rainbows and kitten fluff.
I’m sure you’d agree we’ve heard quite enough.
Three dead men. Three dead men.
Ding dong, the men are dead
What kind of men? The manly men
Ding dong, the manly men are dead
They’ve gone where the compost goes
Below, below, below, below
My bed of tomato
From girls attending a mother-daughter women’s self defense class that preceded mine, a long time ago:
(To the melody of ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes)
Eyes, throat, groin and knees
Groin and knees
Eyes, throat, groin and knees
Groin and knees
I will walk exactly where I please
Eyes, throat, groin and knees.