Grrlcott the Oppressorwich!

Systyrs, a visit to the local food-mart has once again turned into a terrifying and humiliating slog through hell.

You might recall the last time I was horribly harassed while innocently walking too close to the delicatessen, right? You’d probably think that my victory would have finally made the world a safer place for us oppressed and gorgeous victims of Patriarchy.

But alas! Men, the craven worms that they are, always manage to sneak their Patriarchal brainwashing devices into every nook and cranny. Despite being inept and pathetic Neanderthals who can’t think beyond the next lay, men are also manipulative super-geniuses when it comes to bending the minds of us wymyn and compelling us to do their bidding.

So unsurprisingly, I was offended anew at the supermarket today by a heinous and sinister “product” which appalled my tough yet delicate eyes:


Manwich? More like the Oppressorwich!

To the untrained gaze, this may seem to be a savory sloppy-joe. But to the finely-tuned paranoid gaze of a feminist it symbolizes none other than the subjugation and maltreatment of wymmin.

To wit:


As seen above, Oppressorwiches are rife with the imagery of violently butchering defenseless animals, cowboy machismo and forcing womyn into the kitchen. The Oppressorwich suggests that us wimyn are but THINGS to be thrown onto bread, onto plates, into microwaves and CONSUMED at some male’s whim! We are to sit on shelves until PURCHASED, to have men drooling and slavering-over us!

The sandwich itself even LOOKS like a phallus. Don’t you see it? Of course you do!

Making an Oppressorwich requires not such innocuous-sounding ingredients as “tomato paste”, “sauteed onions”, “ground beef” or “shredded turkey” as a possible low-cholesterol substitute. No. The main ingredients are RAPE, RAPE and MORE RAPE with a dash of SEXUAL HARASSMENT!

Systyrs, there is only one possible solution. I, Amynda the Ass-Kicking Feminist Diva, hereby decree that you must all march to your nearest food store, swarm through the canned-good isle and rip the offending products from the shelves.

You must fling the Oppressorwich containers to the floor and shout “No longer will these wicked, mind-warping progenies of the Patriarchy continue to befoul the places where womyn and children gather! We shall see to it that males, a truly lesser breed to whom we are equal, shall no longer menace us frail and easily-victimized yet comparably tough and powerful womyn with their sinister canned-good contrivances!”

The above must be chanted several times for the full effect.

I, for one, vow to never again allow an Oppressorwich to pass through my gorgeous lips and into my gullet. Never again, systyrs! Never again!