Sandwiches: the Misogynist’s Food of Choice

dont touch misogynist

Recently I’ve been reading ‘Make Me A Sandwich Bitch‘ on tumblr which documents the troubled and contradictory minds of men on twitter who can’t resist replaying the old, worn out mantra of the impotent misogynist (with hilarious results).

 

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This has got me to wondering, what is it exactly about the sandwich that appeals to the mind of a misogynist? The sandwich has to be the simplest of all the unfrozen foods so is the point to prove what lazy, useless cunts they are? Is it to revel in their inability/unwillingness to perform the most menial of tasks? Is the menial nature of the task supposed to add to the humiliation of the ‘bitch’ they’re attempting to degrade? If they get off on subjugating someone else to their will then why wouldn’t they go for a roast dinner or something more arduous? Or are we to add impatient to the aforementioned list of attributes – giving us lazy, useless and impatient (which unsurprisingly correlates to their attitudes to sex).

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Or is this just a self esteem issue? Do these men feel like they’re not worth more than just a shitty sandwich? (If so, then well done. Spot on with that one.) But still, if you’re going to be a misogynist then at least try and be good at it. If you’re going to subject the world to your cum-laden power fantasies then at least give us the benefit of reading about some nice foods.

Be imaginative, misogynists.

Value the only thing that comforts you at night, for goodness sakes. You are going into the grave cold, alone and with a terrible litany of sins and grotesqueries to your name. And as your budget coffin is lowered into your smelly grave, any woman you may have tricked into your life is going to be thinking about how much celebratory champagne she can drink without ending up in hospital where she would be diagnosed with overdosing on joy. So at the very least you should get a good imaginary meal in the only universe that will ever value you – the one you’ve created inside your tiny, ugly, little head.

Just to get you started here are some ideas:

‘Bitch, make me a creme brûlée’ – for the chauvinist with a sweet tooth.

‘Bitch, make me a char-grilled spatchcock with a medley of baby vegetables and red wine jus on a bed of cauliflower puree’ – for the misogynists with a more developed palate.

Or ‘Bitch, make me some spaghetti bolognaise’ for the woman-hating prick in need of some old-fashioned, home-made comfort food.

You see guys? You have so many options that you could ask for.

Or you could all just go fuck your own faces.

Either way.

meow

 

 


4 Comments on “Sandwiches: the Misogynist’s Food of Choice”

  1. Katie says:

    Aaaaand I love you.

    I’m new, but this is brilliant & you’re my new favorite.

  2. Stan says:

    “Or ‘Bitch, make me some spaghetti bolognaise’ for the woman-hating prick in need of some old-fashioned, home-made comfort food.”

    Clearly this line needs to be corrected to Spagbowl, any self respecting ‘woman-hating prick’ wouldn’t be as enthusiastic as to actually say the correct name in full, the effort required would be too daunting.


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