Shut up, Carl, I’m not a “feminist.” I’m here to guzzle a few Buds and grill some meat. Nobody cares that you spent $200k sending your daughter to Syracuse so she can earn 77% of what her male counterparts will make post-grad. Stop inviting me to these barbecues if you’re just gonna talk my ear off about women shit. 

Carl. We talked about this. I know domestic abuse is domestic abuse no matter the sex of the person. But really? Your wife slapped your stomach and called you fat. You are fat and if you eat one more hamburger I’m leaving this barbeque, I’m serious. Carl. Lay off.

Yes, we all heard about the frat in Texas painting “no means yes & yes means anal” on their wall. Do you think I want to talk about rape culture while smearing pickle relish on my bun? Yes I know it’s important Carl but you’re pissing me off—OH, DAMNIT. THERE IT GOES. THERE GOES MY BEER ALL OVER MY LAP. KAREN???? Where’s my wife—KAREN!!??!!!!!

Right? Dude, Carl has gotten out of control. Ever since he got on Twitter he’s been completely obsessed with—Oh, hey Carl. No we were just—oh you’re gonna tell us about sugar babies again cool cool. Yup, very wrong. We all agree no one is fighting you.

Sure, I’ll have another beer oh Christ here he comes again. Carl, I gotta be honest. Since your daughter matriculated in gender studies, you’ve become a little—Yes no I agree, the Miss America pageant is outdated, but—can I just? Can I get one word—Carl. Let me just. Ok. You’re just gonna. Talk over. Everything. I. Ok.

Lillian, how’s ‘Cuse? Your father was just telling me about the—oh yes, I did read that article called “What War on Women” by a man under the “curse of white privilege.” Yes, that’s, yes. Great. Hey. Wait. Lillian. Lillian—I honestly am so tired. Can I please just drink my beer and—DOES ANYONE HERE WANT TO TALK ABOUT WAR. I MEAN FUCK. 

I just. I blew up, Beth. I am truly sorry, your daughter does not deserve that sort of treatment from a—how did you phrase it, a “soldier of the patriarchy?” We’ve been neighbors for 14 years now, you know me. Carl just, he gets under my skin. I’m under a lot of pressure at work… No no no you don’t have to bring Carl over to discuss Emma Watson’s speech at the U.N. aaaaand there he is! Carl. Yup. Totally agree. Emma Watson is a god/goddess amongst men/women. I’m not being sarcastic I’m just repeating back what you said to me—I am sensitive to the gender spectrum, I. CARL. 

What! I’m not being rude, all I said was we were heading out to watch the Mayweather match and he freaked! Why are you taking his side? I can’t say anything anymore! What ever happened to land of the goddamn free? My ears don’t turn red when I’m mad, Karen, sit down.

Carl, thank you so much for having us, always a good time. What? I’m not man-splaining over you I’m literally just saying goodbye YOU KNOW WHAT CARL. FUCK YOUR BARBEQUES. FUCK YOU TRACY. FUCK YOUR DAUGHTER LILLIAN. AND FUCK YOU SO HARD CARL. YOU WANT ME TO CALL MYSELF A FEMINIST? I’M A GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING FEMINIST. THERE. WE ALLLLLLLL LOOOOVE BEYONCE. NOW LEAVE MY FEMINIST FAMILY AND I ALONE. IF YOUR LAWN FLAMINGO SO MUCH AS GRAZES THE EDGE OF MY SOD CARL I WILL FUCK YOU UP I SWEAR I WILL FUCK YOU RIGHT UP TO THE MOON CARL. LET’S GO KAREN. GOODNIGHT CARL.