Dear Pro-Rape Fucker:

I get it. It’s not easy being a man today. In the civilized world we now know, gone is the time when it was acceptable to kill whatever animal happened to be around, force some chick you only kinda want to bang to cook it for you, jam the animals entire body into your disgusting pie hole, take a shit and then force some chick you actually want to bang to sniff your taint while licking your musty sack as the first runner up does the dishes and silently prays that you die before its her turn to service you.  I mean, let’s get serious for a moment, Fucker. My husband hates it when I go Chomsky this early in the diatribe, but I feel that your language lacks precision.

 To be clear. You are not so much “pro-rape” as you are “lazy.” Rape requires effort. Often, it requires planning. Timing. And unless your only victim is going to be your mother, it requires leaving your mothers basement. I mean, how many times is your mom going to fall for the old “pull my finger” that turns into the old “pull my finger out of your ass” routine before she stops bringing you expired Hot Pockets and Diet Mr.Pibb three times a day?  

Frankly, nothing about your proposal makes sense. I don’t know if you’re spending too much time hanging out with Ammon Bundy or too much time reading about Ted Bundy, or both, but somehow you have conflated the concept of forcible sex with the concept of property rights. I mean, sure. If a chick is whacked out enough to go with you voluntarily to a private place, her sanity would automatically be questioned. But does the fact that she left the parking lot of her community college career counseling center and presumably ended up in your moms basement crawl space/your eminent domain mean that she HAS to choke down on your flaccid microchip? That seems like the slipperiest of slopes. And I don’t just mean the downward trajectory of your bitch tits. I mean, have you considered what else might be fair game on private property? If SHE has no rights, why would you? Sure. You might (MIGHT) be able to wrestle her to the ground and jam a pinkie somewhere near her vag. But then what? In this lawless place you call “private property” can she retaliate by stealing your “Magic The Gathering: Celebrity Edition” cards featuring Andy Dick and that one bald dude who was on Star Trek and then selling them to other desperate, dateless losers on eBay? Can she put us all out of your misery by chopping your Bobbit off and feeding it to your pet guinea pig/fiancée as long as it all happens in the confines of your moms  lean-to? Can she do all of this while smoking a joint? Can she sit in her car, flagrantly sans seat belt, jam said seat belt up your ass, and slam on the brakes repeatedly so it keeps seizing further up into your colon, as long as she stays in your moms carport driveway? 

The possibilities seem endless. You know, as long as this all happens on private property. You know, the kind of property you don’t own. Since, you know, you live in your moms basement. 

Here’s a tip: when your life reaches the point where you have to champion the concept of forcible sex, it’s time to give up. That’s when you know, officially,  that the world has given up on you. It sucks to be your age and still a virgin, but seriously. Do us all a favor and stop fucking life in the ass against its will. Literally no one who has ever actually had consensual sex agrees with your life view. Even rapists don’t want rape to be legal. That’s why they’re rapists. 


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