A Man’s Voice

I felt outraged at what women had been doing to men for all these years. But things were slowly, gradually, turning around. At least there was that. Men had fought long and hard for their rights, and bit by bit, year after year, were winning more and more respect and support from women.

But we still had a long way to go. The hottest issue in this gender-battling political firestorm was the vasectomy issue. Most women were against vasectomies, but most men were for them. Vasectomies had been made legal many years before, by a Supreme Court decision. But that didn’t stop the Pro-Wife movement from trying to overturn that decision, commonly known as Scro v. Laid.

No sperm is more sacred than a man's voice.

No sperm is more sacred than a man’s voice.

I belonged to the Pro-Voice movement. Which figures, because I was a man. I wanted a voice in what I did with my own life and body. But believe it or not there were still many men who were Pro-Wife. They bought into the argument that every sperm was sacred, and had the right to compete in the great swimming race for the egg. Even if that meant men would have unwanted babies, forcing them to marry and raise children at home while their wives pursued lucrative and fascinating careers.

I hated the label Pro-Wife. To be anti-Wife implied I was a misogynist. And I loved my wife. Why couldn’t we all just agree to the terms Pro-Vasectomy and Anti-Vasectomy? The label made things very confusing. But that’s just an example of how clever and tricky women could be, in their efforts to manipulate and dominate men.

Women controlled everything. They controlled the Supreme Court. They controlled Congress. And there had never been a male President. Never. Ever.

That’s why the upcoming election was so historic, and so important for men. For the first time in history a man had been nominated by a major political party. And lucky for us men, he was Pro-Voice! Rod Clippin had fought very hard for this nomination against, you guessed it, a woman. Her name was Berniece Panders. And she was very popular with a lot of men, so it wasn’t easy for Clippin to beat her.

But he did. And now he faced another woman. A rich, megalomaniacal lady with greenish-blonde hair, named Donna Dump. Nobody really knew where Dump stood on the vasectomy issue. First she was Pro-Voice, but then she was Pro-Wife. But one thing was certain. If Donna Dump was elected, she’d appoint a female Supreme Court Justice who would vote to overturn Scro v. Laid.

Men could soon be forced into having back-alley vasectomies.

Election Day. I stood in the voting booth and gazed at the list of candidates. I reflected on the centuries of repression men had endured at the hands of chauvinistic women. And I trembled with resentment at the thought of men losing their voice. More than ever, I wanted women to get their damned hands off of our man parts. And there on the list of candidates glistened the name, Rod Clippin. For the first time in my life I had the chance to vote for a man for President.

I was so excited! I made my selection with hands aquiver. A vote for Clippin. Fuck you, Donna Dump!

This was an archaic voting machine, with a long red lever. I had to flip a smaller lever to make my selection, then pull the long lever. Ah, to vote for a man by pulling a long red lever seemed powerfully symbolic to me. You can bet I gripped that lever tight and yanked it as hard as I could.

That’s when a sharp pain scissored through my groin. Then everything all around me faded. The voting machine dropped out of sight. The curtained booth vaporized. Suddenly I found myself lying flat on my back, writhing in agony. My groin was on fire from an injured man part.

Wow, that was crazy!

As the fire subsided and the fog lifted from my brain, I realized I had just woken up from the weirdest nightmare I had ever experienced. It was all just a terrible dream. And I felt so relieved and grateful to remember that the world I lived in was not dominated by women, after all.

I let go of the big red lever, and stretched and yawned. It was time for another day of conquering the world.

And thank God it was still a man’s world.

Categories: Humor

10 replies »

      • Well, it is a bit ridiculous how many asses, donkeys, and mules are holding the reins instead of being reined in. Times continue to change, albeit slowly.

        But, actually, I meant troubling for you . . .

        “That’s when a sharp pain scissored through my groin. Then everything all around me faded. The voting machine dropped out of sight. The curtained booth vaporized. Suddenly I found myself lying flat on my back, writhing in agony. My groin was on fire from an injured man part.”


        Liked by 1 person

  1. It does put things into perspective, seeing our current situation from the other side of the fence, but deciding which lever to pull still won’t be easy. Here is a limerick I wrote when “Clippin” won the Democratic nomination:
    I’m sure Bernie didn’t envision
    his campaign would end in recision
    His bump from the race
    leaves us in a bad place:
    Trump or Clinton, a dismal decision

    Liked by 1 person

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