As many men know, it’s scary out there for them right now. But I’m not talking about how their friendly overtures to women might be misconstrued as sexual harassment, potentially ruining their lives. I’m talking about me, dressed in a clown suit, prowling the streets night after night until I’ve taken out every single one of them. You’ll hear a lot of men complaining about “PC culture” these days. Some mothers will say their sons are even afraid to go on a date. But what they should really be scared of is having a quiet clown slink up behind them as they get out of their parked car at the end of a long day. Watch out for Miss Wiggly! She’s got big feet, a long knife, and a fiery rage that’s been building towards men for her entire adult life. She’s also me. I wasn’t always a man-killing clown. I used to just be a woman that men wouldn’t listen to when I tried to explain why I was often scared of men. But after many years of having my trauma shrugged off, laughed at and mansplained, I found a way to cope. I went home that night and ordered a clown suit online and I’ve been murdering men ever since. I’ve been through a lot of bloody clown suits since then. And a lot of men. I’ll get through them though. Patiently, slowly. Wiggly never forgets a face. So yeah, it is hard for men in this country right now. They can hardly steal a woman’s idea or roll their eyes at a sexual harassment seminar, without worrying about me coming out of the woods late at night, calmly knocking on their door and asking if they’re ready for a laugh. No one could’ve guessed just how far it would go, when #MeToo went too far. Except for Wiggly.
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