HARDWORKING, decent men like Boris Johnson are easy prey for any woman with a vagina, as Angela Rayner’s slutty behaviour has proved. A word of sisterly advice, Ang, you’re no Sharon Stone, Michael Douglas more like it.
Which raises the question, is it time to ban vaginas? Let’s get these hateful reproductive organs out of public life, out of television and books, and out of our schools’ endless transgender lessons.
I propose that vaginas should be kept at home, only to be viewed by a woman’s husband, in the marital bed, on special occasions like his birthday or Christmas.
If a woman must venture out in public, they would wear special loose canvas jumpsuits, made especially baggy at the crotch to prevent even the slightest hint of pudenda.
Draconian? Perhaps. Necessary? Yes. How many more men must have their lives ruined before we act? Blameless, respectable family men like Boris Johnson, Wayne Rooney and Prince Andrew. All lured away from domestic contentedness by amoral hussies trading their vaginas like so much no-so-fresh fish.
Sure, the woke brigade will object. ‘This is really weird,’ they’ll say. ‘Misogynistic and not in any way practical.’ Their hysterical moaning proves how low this country has sunk. During the war our soldiers weren’t thinking about vaginas, in fact nothing was further from their minds. They made do with a cup of tea and bayonetting the odd Jerry.
The fact is, men are powerless in the face of vaginas. We need to wean our males off them with more wholesome activities, such as exercise, charity volunteering or running a local boy scout group.
Do I feel any guilt at suggesting we effectively imprison my own sex? No. I’m no misogynist. I hate everything equally, animal, vegetable or mineral. I’d like it if squirrels had their tails amputated. That’d stop the smug little freeloaders looking so bloody cheerful.
