This past hot summer was made slightly hotter in Toronto for all the bare chesticles that some neo-feminists were displaying in celebration of equal rights, plus various Slut Walks to defy the idea that women attired in a specific way brings either protection or harm unto the garbed, yet such is also somehow out of the control of a perpetrator.

I wonder what it is that makes it impossible for women in some places to reveal a single carbon-based cellular aspect of their person without venomous retribution, but in others it all hangs out and most folk seem to more or less be able to handle it.
(Oh, and we have a nude beach. Up yours, fundamentalist, sex-and-women-hating cities!)

As for the women, I suppose there may be more benefits: it hides lovely ladies from Horney men, allows them to flip-off men they don’t like, allows them to wear nothing underneath if they feel daring and sexy, and allows them to play with themselves even in public if they feel horny.

As for whipping themselves up into a frenzy at the slightest inference of disrespect, such actions certainly support such an insecure nature, as does whipping themselves across the back and shouting “death to (most everyone else).”

This one was great! Keep ’em coming.