It was revealed this past week that I and my not-so-secret cadre of castrating feminazis hate men. Six months ago, we were sitting around eating papaya and just as I was chastising Dre for actually allowing one of those god-awful fleshy male protuberances into her vag, we had the brilliant idea of taking over the Hideout for two nights and forbidding all males from taking part in the performances. "This will show them what hateful, lowly, evil piles of shit men truly are!" we agreed, a message that we had previously all but tattooed across our foreheads. We had always made a point of either blatantly ignoring all improv performances with men or protesting their vile attempts at comedy with feminist street theater, armpit hair-growing workshops, and plenary sessions where people weren't allowed to leave until they took our solidary oath.
But this past weekend, we truly made our voices of hatred heard when we invited two female troupes from out of town to come and perform alongside us, spreading our manhating message. We were disgusted when one of these women brought her boyfriend, but what were we going to do except mercilessly talk shit about her behind her back? I hope she's not on Livejournal! Ha!
All in all, I can say that hiring Dykes on Bikes to make sure that nothing with a penis came with in 15 feet of the theater was a brilliant idea and when we do it again next year, we will be offering FREE castration and gender reassignment surgery with every ticket. It's about time that the true message of an all-female comedy festival be heard by everyone, and if someone isn't listening, then we'll just tie them to the nearest bike rack and beat it into their stupid, ugly heads.
Oh, you!
Posted by: jules at April 29, 2007 12:56 PMDo I detect problems at Improv?
Posted by: Dave at April 29, 2007 07:05 PM