Tuesday, July 8, 2014

The Milky Way

I’ve managed to survive pretty well in the Age of Political Correctness.  I’ve been threatened, cajoled, derided and ostracized.  And that was just for using the word ‘chick’ instead of ‘womyn.’

Jesus F. Christ, bitches:  GET OVER YOURSELVES.

Good.  Now we can get back on track: the tenuous and tricky thang we call human relationships. We’re all in them, donut and non donut munchers alike.

The other day, my lovely wife called upstairs to ask for my help.  She was playing with the Social Media and I was playing with the Video Games.  I hit pause.

She:  Some chick (Heh. I taught her well) just wrote and told me how I shouldn’t use the word ‘tit’ and furthermore I am some sort of bimbo.  She said she had the right to breast feed her baby any damn where she pleased and how dare I use the word ‘tit’ instead of ‘breast’ and so NYEAH.

Me: Honey Bunches of Oats, may I formulate your reply?  Good.

Dear Earth Mama,

We understand that Berlin breeding hutches like Parentslauer Berg, Wedding and Neukoelln are home to all sorts of uppity cows who think they can roll their prams over people’s feet and scream at them for saying ‘boo.’  You also feel that you can haul your bloated breastages out and schluck your leechy bambinos on right then and there in public.  And we’re supposed to forgive that shit; hell, enjoy it as well.

BTW: my wife is not a native speaker of English.  How dare you call her names just because she used the word ‘tit’ instead of ‘teat?’  In your case, I’m sure she meant to use the word ‘udder.’

She:  No, that seems a bit strong.  I think she will be offended.  She said I should just avert my eyes.

Me:  So she can offend you and call you names, but…?

She:  I don’t want to start a war of words.

Me:  I DO.

BREEDERS: you choose to have babies.  Big fucking deal.  You are nothing special.  You are an open-legged receptacle for the baby batter of a monkey man.  Nothing more.  You want to celebrate the joy of creation; I get it.  But you also want to foist it on everyone else.  WE. DON’T. CARE. Your baby is ugly, shriveled and red.  JUST LIKE ALL THE OTHER BABIES.  But you are all hormonal and shit.  And you would like to kill me right now.  Take a deep breath.  Realize you are a hormonal cow.  Then get over it.

CHOICES: I’ve seen cafes with names like Milch Bart (milk moustache/beard... EEWW) in P’berg full of milk mädchens just like you.  Everyone’s got the udders out and all the babes are tapping that shit in broad daylight.  I averted my eyes when I walked by.  That wasn’t my turf.  But when you CHOOSE to bring your little milk vampire into a RESTAURANT during DINNER hours:  How dare you?  Are you white trash?  Were you born in a barn?  A trailer?  What gives you the right to spoil my dinner?  That’s right:  seeing a breast feeding mother in public turns my stomach.  I would really like to be more tolerant and shove my coffee mug under a lactating teat and get the cream of the crop.  But I can’t.  I like my coffee like I like my President: strong and black.

Earth Mama:  Fuck you, male chauvinist pig.  I can’t believe you are intolerant of something as beautiful and natural as a loving mother sharing the milk of her bosom with her darling angel.

Me:  Yes, breast feeding is a natural biological function.  I will take back everything I said and apologize for any offense, IF: you will allow me to urinate in a bucket under the dinner table while you watch.  Biological function and all; fair is fair.

Earth Mama:  PIG!!!

Me: Oh yeah!


  1. When I stopped laughing at this post, my eyes dried up enough to see my quote in the top corner. I feel very special right now.

    This is why Frankfurt was better - there were NO children. I've since moved back home to the English countryside and am alarmed to see that children do still exist in the world - and they are EVERYWHERE (except in Frankfurt, of course). No tits OR teats at the dinner table! (Well, unless you go to Hooters).

  2. Thanks for the comment and the quote I used, Charlotte. I'm glad I make people laugh (though probably not the breeders at this point). I was sitting in fear waiting for the first comment from some Ovarian Warrior from the Dairy Planet to put a jihad on my chauvanist ass. Thanks for being one of the good gals!


  3. Call me a sellout, but I'm a gay man who likes a good tit. The other bits, though, are hella fierce.


  4. Gay sellouts are more than welcome on dunkin' berliner. Especially if they have a blog called Deutschland Uber Elvis! :D I can't believe I haven't looked at all the blogs of my followers. Call me a navel gazing twat. I will now follow your blog--and not just because you sent me a donut donation! Soon I will post (as promised somewhere on this blog) a pic of me stuffing donuts down my gullet with your name written in donut jelly on my face. Or maybe just in my Elvis costume. Anyway, thanks to Honourable Husband for a hilarious blog (I will never hear Deutschland Uber Alles in my head the same way again) and until I dig out my Elvis costume (I own one. Run in fear.), here is an interim thank you: