Dvärghundspossen offers up a cautionary tale for men.
I was raised to believe that women should be worshiped and that their every whim should be catered to. As a teenager I therefore spent millions of hours and dollars on driving the girl I had a major crush on to her football-playing boyfriend whenever she felt like paying him a visit. He hit her and raped her and treated her like crap, but she said to me that she’d still rather be with an evil football player than a nice guy like me.
One day the girl came home to my house and said she wanted to have sex with me. Happily I pulled out a condom and we did it. Afterwards, she grabbed the condom and ran into the bath room. I thought this was a bit weird, but didn’t give it much thought.
Then I didn’t hear from her for a while. I was devastated, since I thought that after she wanted to have sex with me, she was gonna be my girlfriend.
Nine months later she called me and told me that she’d used the sperm in the condom to impregnate herself. She wanted to have a baby, but she didn’t want a husband. She just wanted to be left alone with her baby and her bonbons. Now it was time for me to pay child support!
By that time I was unemployed, after the state I live in had made it illegal to hire white heterosexual males. I told her I didn’t have any money. She brought the case the court, and the court decided that I had to give her a million dollars next day, or else I would be sent to prison. I had no choice but to rob a bank. And I got sent to prison for ten years for attempted robbery.
When I finally got out, I got sent to prison for another five years for failing to pay child support.
When I finally got out, the mother of my daughter called the court and said our child was actually the result of me raping her. I got sent to prison for another twenty years for rape.
When I was finally out of prison for good, I went to visit my little daughter. I said to her mother that I was willing to forgive her for everything, if only she’d allow me to visit my little girl from time to time. I was standing on her porch telling her all this. Suddenly, I heard a shriek from inside the house. It was my daughter. She was screaming “MUM MUM THERE’S A MAN ON THE PORCH! CALL THE POLICE BEFORE HE RAPES AND MURDERS US!”. It was too late. The woman I was once in love with, the woman I’d driven millions of miles to her football player boyfriend, the woman who had sent me to prison, had raised our daughter a feminist.