It’s Me! The Cool Feminist Dude who Fucks all my Female Friends!

man smiling while leaning on railings
Photo by Oleg_bf on Pexels.com

Sup, bud? Maybe you’ve heard of me, or seen me at a march. A lot of people might call me woke, but I don’t like labels. I don’t really believe in putting people in boxes, you know? All bodies are beautiful.

Heard of the Male gaze? Wow, fucked up. I would never look at a woman as an object. I respect women so much it kind of…hurts. Did my mom love me? You bet she did. Okay, I’ll admit that I did bang my friend Jessica, who has occasionally modeled. But I don’t see how she looks on the exterior. I only see her soul. Too bad she acted so crazy after we fucked! She tried to call me while I was at work! Wild!                                                     

Listen, I know that you may see my lithe body and think “wow, that guy works out!” You’re right, but I work out for ME. Not for some ridiculous patriarchal standards of what a man should look like. I get it, ladies! That’s why I think it’s so insane when I see other men say “no fat chicks”. It’s abhorrent, really. That’s why I fucked my friend Courtney, who is fat. I mean, not fat. Curvy? Are we taking the word “fat” back? Sometimes I forget. Can we get Gloria Steinem on the line here? Anyway, I digress. I banged Courtney not BECAUSE she is fat but because I don’t see weight. I also don’t see shapes, or color. I’m literally colorblind. The point is, women, please love yourselves! Courtney was great in bed. Too bad she texted me the next day and was like soooo clingy and crazy!                                                                                    

A lot of guys don’t like strong and powerful women, but not me. I’m a true feminist. Maybe you remember me from your women’s studies class? Yeah, not to brag, but I got it. I was a proletariat of the state school. A real man of the people. Heard of the feminine mystique? I read it. I know it may have seemed like I was talking over all the women in that class, but that simply wasn’t the case. I was just excited to get my ideas out and to be a true ally. In fact, when the professor asked me to come in and discuss my participation, we banged. Am I proud of it? Yes. I don’t see age. Age is just a number that Professor Meyers kept repeating when she asked me to stop coming by her office every day. All I wanted to do was talk about the parallels between Margaret Atwood’s dystopian future and the modern day! God, why did Professor Meyers have to be so crazy?

So, as you can see, I’m truly a modern feminist man. Am I a hero? Well, I’ll leave that for you to decide. Becca, please text me back. Stop being insane.

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