When I’m worried and cannot sleep
I count all the male peers I’ve already outstripped professionally and laugh a full-throated laugh
***
(To the tune of John Mayer’s “Daughters”)
Women, make more than your husbands
Husbands will sob when you do
***
Baa, baa, black sheep
Have you any wool?
Yes, sir; yes, sir;
Kill all men
***
Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One ha’ penny, two ha’ penny,
Hot cross buns!
If you have no daughters,
Give away your sons
One ha’ penny,
Two ha’ penny,
Hot cross buns!
***
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word
Ever; your sister is talking
***
Georgie Porgie, puddin’ and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry,
When the boys came out to play
The girls sharpened their knives and made a decision.
***
Little Miss Muffett
Sat on a tuffett
Eating her curds and whey.
It was illegal for white men to practice medicine.
***
Hello young lovers, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes go with you tonight,
Feminism doesn’t go far enough.
***
Hickory, dickory, dock
You know what this rhymes with
And what we’ll do to it.
And you won’t like it.
***
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
She was right to do it; nothing a woman does should be criticized.
***
In a great green room
there was a telephone
And a red balloon
And a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.
And there were three little bears sitting on chairs
And two little kittens and a pair of mittens
And a little toy house and a young mouse.
And a comb and a brush
And a bowl full of mush
And a quiet old lady who was whispering “Hush” to her male inferiors.
***
It’s raining, it’s pouring;
The old man is snoring
Now is our chance.
***
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill danced on his grave.
***
Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree-top
When the bough breaks, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
Under patriarchy, every woman’s son is her potential betrayer.
***
One, two,
Buckle my shoes;
Three, four,
Open the door;
Five, six,
Pick up sticks;
Seven, eight,
Lay them straight:
Nine, ten,
Start over again, male.
***
Now it’s time to say good night
Good night, sleep tight
Now the sun turns out xirr light
Good night, sleep tight
You are not permitted to dream,
It is not permitted for men to dream.
Tags: lullabies, misandry, misandry is real…real cool, things you should tell your children
3 blind mice
see how they run
they run right under the farmers wife
who cuts off their tails with a carving knife
How stupid to bother the farmers wife
those stupid male mice deserved to get their tails hacked off
Now those mice will feel psychic pain and diminished sexual pleasure
But the farmer’s wife was right to make the decision she did
Tail-less mice are more hygienic and less likely to contract AIDS
Men are more warlike and violent by nature
Which means they cannot be trusted at all
And Superior Woman is right to make them safer
by whatsoever methods she choose
(I can do this all night)
Mistress Mary quite contrary
how does your garden grow?
Silver bells and cockle shells
and the heads of men who dared to question my actions
all in a row.
::curls up at Mallory’s feet with blankie and cocoa in “Misandry Forever” mug::
I want this on a huge LCD screen on my wall, like a living inspirational poster.
Let it never be said that The Toast attempts to placate the patriarchy.
Ring around the rosie
Pockets full of posies
Ashes, ashes
Only the men fall down. We have engineered a virus to kill all the men on earth, like in Y: The Last Man and it’s AWESOME.
Hey diddle diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
And then landed on some men
And trampled them with her hooves
If for some reason you do not follow Mallory on Twitter, you may not know that she once wrote:
“cum on feel the noize / women murder your male oppressors”
Mary had a little lamb
Its feet were white as snow
And everywhere that Mary went
Her lamb was sure to go because men weren’t allowed to tell her what she could do with her own lamb goddamnit
aw man everyone is KILLING IT except me. I blame all men.
Yours is great! And let’s be honest, we’re all just striving in vain to match half the brilliance that is “Yes, sir; yes, sir;/Kill all men”
right? i was going to post something, but then i realized that all i wanted to do was quote snippets.
I’m not even going to try, I know when I’m outgunned. I will just sit and laugh!
As a man, I blame us too.
Sorry about that.
Aussie Edition:
Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Merry merry king of the bush is he
Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra
Your time is coming, dickbag.
Well, this is going to make taking the kid to the zoo awkward.
Kookaburra was an asshole, really.
you know, I could never remember the last line of the kookaburra rhyme and I think it’s because I’ve been waiting my whole life for YOUR TIME IS COMING, DICKBAG
It’s actually “Gay your life must be”, because it’s a pretty old rhyme, but we always used to sing
Kookaburra sits on electric wire, jumping up and down with his tail on fire.
Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra. Hot your tail must be.
Can’t stop laughing over “dickbag.” Now added to my daily vocabulary.
Look at this lego rendition of the dickbag: http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/gallery/2…
Christ, what an asshole.
No, that’s cute! Thanks! Mr. Iceberg loves Lego.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
When men aren’t happy
It’s because you’ve done something right
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt
His name is my name, too!
Whenever we go out,
The people always shout
There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt
Then they gather their pitchforks and drive us out of town, for this is a land of Womyn
And we are unworthy to beg even for scraps
Da da da da da da da
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty boys,
Baked in a pie.
“Ah, these are so great!”
*scroll*
“This is my favorite!”
*scroll*
“No, THIS is my favorite!”
*scroll*
“Ahhh but this one is SOMEHOW EVEN BETTER and is now my favorite!”
*scroll*
Repeat forever.
It’s funny how sometimes when I think of my frequency of The Toast and The Hairpin, I’m reminded of devotees in the Cthulhu mythos who worship the Elder Gods in hopes of being eaten first when they awaken. Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Women R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn!
It’s good that you know and accept your place at the bottom. When the revolution starts, your humility just might preserve you for a skosh longer than the other men.
I have always hoped to be second against the wall.
or death by snu-snu
Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater
Had a wife and couldn’t keep her
Because husbands were considered property,
And women could divorce on a whim.
(credit to the always brilliant Kate Beaton)
Little Jack Horner
Sat in the corner,
Eating nothing, because boys don’t deserve food.
He put in his thumb,
And imagined a plum
And said nothing, because boys aren’t allowed to speak.
Little Jack Horner
Has eaten the plumbs
That were in the ice-box
And which his mother
was probably
saving for breakfast;
“Forgive me,” he begs,
in the shadow
of the carving knife.
Jack Spratt could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
So between the both of them, you see
He was the inferior specimen marked for weakness and death
THIS ONE
you are my favorite
Row Row Row your boat
gently down the stream
of red blood that came from men
who talked back to women
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
You’ll wish you were fucking nimble, Jack, when the Misandrist Army rises up
The farmer in the dell
The farmer in the dell
Heigh-ho the derry-o
The farmer in the dell
The farmer takes a wife
Now that DOMA was ruled unconstitutional she can get healthcare through her wife’s government job
What, you thought all farmers were men?
Heigh-ho the derry-o
Lesbian separatists forever
<3 perfect perfect perfect
A++ would LOL again
Hi. You’re amazing.
I actually cried at work a little just now, I was laughing so hard.
I wish to subscribe to your newsletter.
I am howling with laughter right now.
It’s too bad Valerie Solanas never got to finish her series of children’s books, but at least we have this.
Are you sleeping, are you sleeping,
Brother John? Brother John?
Morning bells are ringing! Morning bells are ringing!
Get the fuck up and serve your Sisters in the Goddess since you’re not even allowed to be ordained.
I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS POST
I want to live in this post forever
me too, just enjoying the company of my sisters and worshipping our shining goddess Mallory
This post is my safe space.
please can I be kidnapped by the Misandrist Fairies and run through the mists with them forever, stealing the horses of men and withering their crops with our laughter
omfg I’m totally teaching my future children about the misandrist fairies, the sacred guardians of mother’s day who bring momma a gift certificate to buy all the summer flats she’ll need every may!
I just realized I DON’T REMEMBER ENOUGH NURSERY RHYMES TO PARTICIPATE. I blame men.
I can’t even. This is the best.
Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I’ve been to London to see the Queen
On her throne of the skulls of unworthy males
This post is the most perfect thing to ever be created on a Tuesday morning, a time when generally good things hide away to never be found until Wednesday
A-tisket a-tasket
A green and yellow basket
Filled with the resignation letters of men
who quit their jobs when I leaned in
twinkle twinkle little star
trapped inside a small sports car
you’ll never be a real person, guy
so shut your eyes and start to cry
twinkle twinkle little star
will anyone notice when you’ve gone
OMG. would it be wrong to teach this version to the BBs?
there’s no right or wrong, only hilarious??
All right, the Internet’s over. Nothing can ever top this. We can all go home now.
my favorite thing about the internet is that I can be there and home at the same time
the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout
down came the rain and washed the spider out
out came the sun and dried up all the rain
along with the dead and shriveled carcass of the idiot spider who in his foolishness thought he could best the rain goddess and had only his own pathetic and meaningless death to show for it
We have seen to it that he will never climb again.
Here we go round the mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush.
Here we go round the mulberry bush,
Because it’s a fucking bush and it’s there and doesn’t need to be trimmed.
I’m pretty sure there’s an awesome Pop Goes the Weasel corollary to this, but I can’t quite get there. . . Somebody help a sister out?
All around the cobbler’s bench
The monkey chased the weasel
The monkey thought twas all in fun
Until the monkey realized the weasel was a misandrist.
hahah. See, in my version, it’s the mulberry bush that serves as the central point of chasing. Hence the correlation in my mind.
That’s how I learned it too.
All around the mulberry bush
The misandrist chased the manchild
The misandrist doesn’t believe in waxing
Pop! She punched the dude who suggested she get a Brazilian.
yes yes! Very good. =)
Hush little baby
Don’t say a word
Papa’s gonna buy you
A mockingbird
And if that mockingbird
Won’t sing
We’ll all watch
Papa’s hangin’ rope swing
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
Because THE END OF MEN!
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy stayed home,
Where he was emasculated because his wife outearned him and brought home the roast beef with her high ranking job,
While because of feminism nobody would hire him, so he had none.
And this little female chauvinist piggy went “All men are evil!” all the way home.
Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack,
All dressed in black, black, black,
Like an Angel of death, death, death,
come for men who talk back, back, back.
Out on the street, street, street,
Where men cat-call, call, call,
She swings her scythe, scythe, scythe,
And ends them all, all, all.
Brb getting knocked up with a girl fetus so I can teach her this
OH MY GOD THIS IS BEAUTY ITSELF
You are absolutely brilliant.
I got chills. This is so good.
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.
Because the showy plumage of the male
Doesn’t compensate for his fundamental shortcomings
And deserves to adorn our womyn hats.
There once was a girl
and she had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead
and it shot lasers at dudes on the street who told her to smile
Oh ghods I want to be able to do this…
I am 16 going on 17
I know that I’m naive
Fellows I meet may tell me I’m sweet
Then I shank them for daring to speak to me without permission
I am 16 going on 17 innocent as a rose
Bachelor dandies
Drinkers of brandies
Will be executed once the Matriarchy ascends
Totally prepared am I
To destroy the world of men
Timid and shy and scared am I
Of absolutely nothing, since I refuse to conform to patriarchal constructs of women as meek and submissive
I need someone
Older and wiser
To know his place and submit to the superior wisdom of womyn
You are 17 going on 18
I’ll dominate you
The hills are alive
With the sounds of the screams of men whom have dared to cross me
And down goes the oppressive, misogynistic dogma they’ve preached
For over a thousand years
There’s something comforting and old-fashioned about all this.
I want a harridan
Just like the harridan
That harried dear old dad.
Little boy blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn
Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?
We killed him and hid his body under the haystack.
Already far too many men blow their own horns.
Day is done,
Gone the sons,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
Matriarchy is nigh.
YES ONE I CAN SING TO MY BOY CHILD (too young to crush his spirit just yet)
I love this one sooo much.
Pretty sure these were the lyrics when I sang this in Girl Guides
Eeenie meenie miney moe
Catch a white man by his toe,
If he hollers, hold on harder,
Rend his entrails, place in the larder
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.
Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird
And if that mockingbird won’t sing,
Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring
And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Mama’s gonna kick Papa’s useless ass
Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold,
Pease porridge in the pot, nine days old;
Some like it hot, some like it cold,
Men only get to eat the leftovers which are nine days old, and it doesn’t matter how they like it because they’re not getting anything better.
There was a crooked man.
(No one cares what he did, how much money he had, where he put it, or where and with what he lived, because it doesn’t really matter since all men are just as useless as he is.)
This post, these comments – they are all balm for my tormented, angered, man-hating soul. Goddess bless you all!
*And pro-tip: Don’t engage with rabid anti-choice trolls in blog comments, because it will just make you FURIOUS and stabby.
If I print-out this post and these comments to worship as my religious scripture and keep on my person, will I be spared at all? I’m hoping that the impending (and glorious) Matriarchy needs to make an example of some poor white man as a model for good behavior.
No guarantees, but I’ll see what I can do. White male slaves ARE important tools of the matriarchy.
Troll them back with a selection from the misandrist lullabies! DO IT. SCARE THEM
GOOD IDEA!
I was just thinking that it would be great if someone started posting these in the mens rights area of reddit
According to something Mallory tweeted recently, YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED. {cue evil laughter}
The end of all he-mens,
Say the bells of St. Clement’s.
Can you be certain,
Say the bells of St. Martin’s.
I pray for it daily,
Say the bells of Old Bailey.
Begin the rule of Bitch,
Say the bells of Shoreditch.
Men, we toll for thee,
Say the bells of Stepney.
Now you must go,
Says the great bell of Bow.
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!
(We can leave the last verse un-edited.)
Orange are not the only fruit
say the bells of Saint Jeanette
Did you come here alone
say the bells of Saint Simone
I hate you, you breeder
say the bells of Saint Frida
Hold still while I skin ya
say the bells of Saint Virginia
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday,
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Took ill on Thursday,
Grew worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday.
That was the end,
Of Solomon Grundy.
One less man in the world,
Praise be unto the merciful goddess.
You are all perfect. I just made an account so I could comment and say that.
And to join in, of course!
Lavender’s blue,
Dilly dilly,
Lavender’s green.
When I am queen,
Dilly dilly,
I shall ascend the Iron Throne alone because I need no king!
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker’s man.
Bake me a cake just as fast as you can.
Pat it and roll it and mark it with a “W”
Put it in the oven for Woman and you don’t get to eat any.
Frère Jacques, frère Jacques,
Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
Voici le marteau! Marteau de féminisme!
Sur ton tete. Ding, dang, dong.
Nerd lullaby?
Home is behind, the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow, cloud and shade
Shall darken the doorsteps of men forever
As women take their rightful place
Upon all seats of power the world over
as a feminist this makes me sad. misandry is about as cool as misogyny. look to the civil rights movement, you don’t end hate and intolerance with more hate and intolerance; rather you fuel it.
As a misandrist, I draw strength from your pain.
but then what would I laugh at
You don’t begin OR end intolerance with nursery rhymes. Equality and jokes for all!
http://img.gawkerassets.com/img/18r8oc65o02qqgif/…
When I read this yesterday I thought maybe it was a “feminists are humorless” joke, but they haven’t come back, so maybe not.
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
There we go a-hunting,
For nasty, dirty men.
Boxty on the griddle,
Boxty on the pan,
If you don’t bake boxty,
You’ll never get a man,
But who cares, because all men are scum,
And you should keep your ‘taters for yourself.
Hot young men
Hot young men
One a penny, two a penny
Cheap sex slaves
She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes
She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes
She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain
Like a horsewoman of the apocalypse
And she’ll wipe out all the menfolk when she comes
I bet dudes who make rape jokes are offended by this.
I would bet the (lesbian separatist) farm on it.
Oh, it’s on the Reddit MRA subforum, so yes.
The Reddit MRA forum and Manboobz are where I draw sustenance (and lulz).
Pretty boys should be seen but not heard.
Now go make me a sandwich
I had a little nut tree
Nothing would it bear
But a little nutmeg
And a golden pear
But you can hang men from it
So that’s useful.
I had a little nut tree.
Nothing would it bear,
But a silver nutmeg
And a golden pear.
The King of Spain’s daughter
Came to visit me,
Can women make use of men’s vulnerability
Not to marry but instead to destroy male power?
Over the river and through the wood
To Grandmother’s house we go
It’s Grandmother’s house because she killed Grandfather
During menopause
Hormones!
Froggy went a-courtin’ and she did ride
uh-huh
Froggy went a-courtin’ and she did ride
uh-huh
Froggy went a-courtin’ and she did ride
Sword and pistol by her side to avenge herself on her father and so-called “intended” as they attempted to enforce patriarchal norms by pressing her into a loveless economic contract.
Froggy went a-courtin’ and she did ride
uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do
I’m half crazy
Because your dickhole brother keeps gaslighting us
It won’t be a handsome marriage
We live in a state that won’t allow it
But you’ll look sweet
Upon the seat
Built of the bones of our foes
My Bonnie battles o’er the ocean
Her gynocracy reaches o’er the sea
My Bonnie has slain all the men in that land
So bring back my Bonnie to me
Cinder-ella,
Dressed in yella
Went upstairs to kiss her fella
That was a mistake
She doesn’t need a man to feel fulfilled.
My fingers are crossed for a follow-up misandrist holiday songs post. (O Tannenbaum O Tannenbaum / Your phallic symbolism will not cross my threshold)
Request granted. Do not suggest any more song titles. It’s in Her hands now.
I will trust in Her; She will provide.
<3 u Mallor-ie.
Just scrolling down the page, thumbs-upping basically everything. Hi errybody in this thread I <3 u.
Fishy, Fishy in a brook
Daddy caught it with a hook
Daddy fried it in a pan
Baby and Mommy ate the fish while daddy cleaned.
Georgie Porgie, Puddin’ and Pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry,
When the boys came out to play
The High Court found them guilty of sexual harrassment.
It has been a capital crime since the ascension of the Great Mother.
Oh, did you know the Muffin Man?
The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man.
Oh, did you know the Muffin Man,
That lived on Drury Lane?
Oh, yes, I knew the Muffin Man.
The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man.
Oh, yes, I knew the Muffin Man,
That lived on Drury Lane.
Star light, star bright,
The first star I see tonight;
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Drink from the tears of men tonight.
As I was going to St. Ives,
I saw a radical feminist cooperative led by seven wives,
Each wife had seven male slaves,
Each slave had seven chains,
Each chain had seven locks:
Locks, chains, slaves, and wives,
How many were there going to St. Ives?
I had to report our janitor for sexual harassment today but this post is making me feel a whole lot better.
Oh, darl. I’m so sorry you got harassed. What a bag of dicks. I think you are very brave to report it, well done you!
Ohh thanks, bergie! It actually wasn’t hard at all, and I guess wasn’t technically harassment? More like a child’s love letter that read like a pre-kidnapping note, which he signed and put is phone number on… sigh. If only all creepers left you so much hard evidence! I just showed my boss and he took care of it.
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Vaginas that bite back when men force their dicks in
All rapists hanged til they’re dead on a string
These are a few of my favorite things
When I’m paid less
When R. Thicke sings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember that men are the worst
And then I don’t feeeeeeeel so bad!
That scans really fucking well.
This is my favorite.
My mom just spit out her wine while laughing hysterically at that.
The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts all on a summer’s day;
The Knave of Hearts he stole the tarts and took them clean away.
The Queen of Hearts found the Knave of Hearts and kneecapped him as was her right as Queen of her Domain.
Justice is swift in the Matriarchy.
I just keep coming back to this post and cackling. #misandry
What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails
And flagging school performance,
That’s what little boys are made of.
What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Spite and knives
And everything sharp,
That’s what little girls are made of.
And they say feminists don’t have a sense of humor!
Ellen Willis wrote back in 1980, I think: “Humorless is what you are if you do not find the following subjects funny: rape, big breasts, sex with little girls. It carries no imputation of humorlessness if you don’t find the following subjects funny: impotence, castration, vaginas with teeth.”
Doctor Foster went to Gloucester
In a shower of rain
He stepped in a puddle
Right up to his middle
And drowned in MRA tears.
London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down.
London Bridge is falling down,
The Infrastructure of Hetero-Patriarchal Capitalism will be destroyed.
I just realized that:
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see
is potentially misandrist in itself. Neat. <3
Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,
Doesn’t matter because all men are rapists.
This is the house that Jack built.
But his tools can’t be used to destroy it.
Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Up stairs and down stairs in his night-gown,
Tapping at the window, crying at the lock,
But he can’t come in because it’s wimmin-only space.
Pat-a-cake,
pat-a-cake,
baker’s man.
Bake me a cake as fast as you can;
May it contain the nourishing blood of a thousand scrota
Hey diddle diddle, men all know so little
So prone to giggle and swoon
We womyn all laugh to see such fools
And send them away to the moon
In a cavern, in a canyon
Excavating what is mine
Lives that whiner, I gave a shiner
I’m his daughter, Clementine.
Oh my father, oh my father,
It’s your daughter, Clementine.
Get to mining, or no dining,
Says your better, Clementine.
Men can’t hold claims, but there is no shame
In digging for what’s rightly mine,
All the gold dear, that you can hold, dear
Goes to your daugher, Clementine.
Oh my father, Oh my father,
You will make much better time,
As a eunuch in a tunic
Because the ruleses, they are mine.
Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
There’s a land free of men where far fewer women die
Somewhere over the rainbow, there’s a place
You can walk down the streets at night
No need for your mace
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where no men can holla at me
Where women can run late at night
With no creepy men in sight
That’s where you’ll find me.
more verses pls
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
through pure incompetence couldn’t put Humpty together again.
And what kind of egg is stupid enough to climb up and sit on a wall anyway? A male one.
I do not like thee, Dr. Fell
The reason why is plain to tell
For this I know and know full well
Male doctors are an abomination before The Blessed Mother and have all been dispatched, so next time I’m bringing my axe.
Boys and girls come out to play
The moon does shine as bright as day
Leave your supper and leave your sleep
Because it’s about time you boys learn about the “second shift.”
Mary Mary Quite Contrary how does your garden grow?
Fertilized by the flesh of men
Little Miss Muffet
sat on my Crumpet
and came by to to call at my home
along came a CIS male
who’s job was to impale
MIss Muffet on his very big bone
London Bridge is broken down,
Dance o’er my Lady Lee,
London Bridge is broken down
With it patriarchy.
How shall we build it up again?
Not with steel or gold or wood —
Dance o’er my Lady Lee,
London Bridge is broken down,
With it patriarchy.
Build it with the bones of men,
Dance o’er my Lady Lee
Huzza! ’twill last for ages long
As a matriarchy.
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,
The reason why – I cannot tell;
But this I know, and know full well,
That’s the last time you ever call me hysterical buddy, my new bible is Our Bodies, Ourselves. Down with the patricarchal health system, sisters unite!
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
Because that’s all a phallus is good for
They are useless except as beasts of burden
A-tisket a-tasket
A green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my love
And on the way I dropped it,
I dropped it,
I dropped it,
And on the way I dropped it.
A little boy he picked it up and put it in his pocket.
And then he plagiarized it and sent it to 300 women on dating sites because he had no originality, but it all worked out for me because he forgot to remove my contact info and of course he sent it to ladies who had specified “WOMEN ONLY” on their preferred romantic partners.
Thank you, EVERYONE, for making a really shitty day amazing. I would like to make you all cookies!
Adding on that I too am having a shitty day and these are making everything so much better.
It’s raining, it’s pouring;
The old man is snoring
Now is our chance.
MELIS
I INHALED A GUMMI BEAR
MY JELLY-RELATED DEATH WILL BE ON YOUR HANDS
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray for Gaia my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
I pray for Gaia to kill all men in retaliation.
Holy…guys, I’m DYING here. This is effing brilliant.
Old King Cole was a merry old soul and a merry old soul was he
Until his status was destroyed by the rising of the matriarchy.
The grand old Duke of York
He had ten thousand men
They were all rapists
Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Perfect Thoughts
A Peck of Perfect Thoughts Peter Piper Picked
When Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Perfect Thoughts
He started to view his sexual desire as something that was inherently violent and immoral and harmful towards women and fell into a cycle of self harm and skipped meals that, in concert with other problems, interfered with his ability to take care of himself and is still not completely responding to drugs and therapy after two years and when he was alone he was frequently was convinced that having unrequited sexual desires made him a rapist even though he'd never had any sexual contact with anyone, and when actual real-life women told him this was all nonsense he would be convinced when he was talking to them and then revert to his old patterns as soon as he was alone and he would stare at Project Unbreakable and think "that's who I am, I did all of these things," and he would treat himself accordingly as far as his cowardice would let him
And Peter Piper Botched Perfection, Pah!
Cross patch, draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin;
Take a cup and drink it up,
To toast the end of men.
A huntress, she would hunting go,
And under her coat she carried a bow,
All for to shoot at a merry little bro,
Among the leaves so green-o.
Hush a bye
Don’t you cry
Go to sleep, little baby
When you wake
We shall kill all men
I am soooo late to this party.
Jeebus Crispies!
Ring-a-ring o’ roses,
A pocket full of posies,
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
They all fall down,
The XY birth defect of the heterogamete rendering them particularly vulnerable to epidemic.
And once you’ve got them down, kick ’em.
Where is this revolution of which you speak?
Check this zinger:
Four and Twenty MEN baked in a pie!
AHAHAHAA… oh god I’m lonely.
Jack be nimble,
Jack be quick.
Oh, nice shot, Jill!
So much for his dick.
I think this may be the first time ever scrolling down to the comments section brought me joy instead of despair.