The Misogyny Never Stops

I'm working on what should be the final chapter of my book. The chapter on my hot fudge, cookie dough, and homemade ice cream dessert. And what better way to celebrate a chocolate dessert than by maligning the female sex?

Here's some of what I've written:

When did women get to be such pigs? I mean, we all knew they were secretly pigs, farting loudly when they think no one can hear and muttering amongst themselves about how George Bush’s flight suit shows off his package, but when did they become so open about it?

At the moment, I’m thinking more about their impressively piglike dietary behavior and not so much about the many, many other ways in which they have come to resemble God's tastiest creation. Over the last twenty years or so, women have turned into voracious eating machines that consume everything in their paths, sort of like that tremendous thing on the original Star Trek that floated around looking like a giant spliff and eating planets.

Spock: Captain, we have the creature on the screen.

Kirk: [looking] What the F___…

Spock: Sir?

Kirk: It looks like a giant spliff. Scan this system for enormous Jamaicans.

Spock: It appears to be headed for our colony on Viagra 6.

Kirk: Do we know anybody on Viagra 6?

Spock: Well, you have two brothers who live there.

Kirk: Figures. It’s the 23rd century and my idiot parents still use the rhythm method.

Spock: Shall we try to stop it?

Kirk: Hold on, my girdle is pinching me. [he adjusts] Okay, Mr. Sulu, hit it with the tractor beam.

Sulu: Sir?

Kirk: Let’s see how it likes being pelted with tractors. [Spock whispers to him.] Really? Belay that.

Spock: We could send an away team.

Kirk: Right. Go find a black ensign in a red shirt.

Ensign Ol' Dirty Bastard: Oh, lawsy! [runs off the set to phone his agent]

Kirk: Do we have any Mexicans?

Spock: If there were only some way to satisfy its hunger while we devise a plan…

Kirk: Do we have any Mexicans?

Spock: Only during picking season.

McCoy: WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!

Spock: Doctor, try to calm yourself.

McCoy: WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE, AND ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS CALMING OURSELVES! YOU GREEN-BLOODED, INHUMAN…[Spock heel-kicks him in the groin]

McCoy: [from below the frame] Mmmf.

Kirk: What happened to the nerve pinch?

Spock: I like to mix it up. Captain, look…on the creature’s underside…aren’t those…

Kirk: Tits! We’re saved!

Spock: Sir?

Kirk: Quick, get to the galley and synthesize a hundred-foot high tub of Ben & Jerry’s!

Spock: An excellent plan, sir.

Kirk: Meanwhile, let’s distract it. Open a hailing frequency and send it some episodes of Oprah.

Spock: I sincerely hope it's due for its period.

All Male Bridge Personnel: EWWWWWW.