Also today she had me kill the last rooster because she thought he was harassing the hens for sex too much. I rechristened him “Feminism” before I gave him the axe, as he was an instance of a male literally being killed to make life easier on females. She didn’t appreciate the humor, nor the irony of my declaring “Feminism is dead!” after I finished her appointed task.
Feminism is currently being made into stew. Feminism is stewing, you might say.
UPDATE: The shambles of Feminism made an excellent New Mexican Green Chile Chicken stew for lunch. I therefore can sincerely say, "Thank you, Feminism."
4 comments:
Any number of punchlines suggest themselves to me.
The naming of the rooster was a nice touch.
Busted. It sounds like you served Feminism well.
Had a few heavy days.
This blog had so many twists that everything is again ok!
Glad to be of service. Good you’re feeling better.
Post a Comment