Confronting the Feminism.

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in my MRS degree at the University of Michigan, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on NOW, and I have over 300 confirmed daughters. I am trained in wifely submission and I’m the top socon in the entire Vision Forum. You are nothing to me but just another potential angry blog post. I will fulfill the fuck out of my husband’s sexual needs with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of MRAs in basements across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your comments section. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can cry about feminism in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hormones. Not only am I extensively trained in lying silently weeping while my sweating husband groans his way to climax above me, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Mens Rights Movement and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable feminism off the face of the continent, you hamster-spinning little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” belief system was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn blue-pill idiot. I will shit frustrated weeping self-hatred all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.

– Sunshine Mary    😡


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