So my dad (a.k.a. the disgusting man-animal who raped my mother) said he wanted to do a “father-daughter day” with me. He even went on to throw ableist slurs at me by saying “it would be good for you to get out of the house.” So he forcibly took me to some stupid patriarchal baseball game. I know next to nothing about this man-animal “pastime” (their other favorite being rape), but the whole thing was a grotesque patriarchal display. A drunken crowd of man-animals and internalized misogynists cheered for nine man-animals in matching uniforms like the nazis. The uniformed man-animals waved a stick around, obviously a symbol of their disgusting oppression rods. I tried to educate my dad on how problematic this all was, but he just stared blankly at me, talked about how it was time for me to move out of the basement, then drank heavily. I don’t know why I fucking bothered, no man-animal rapist brain can comprehend the evils of the patriarchy or the complex nuances of body-posi vegan otherkin feminism. Even it seems, the man-animal rapist whose rape created me