I’ve decided to take a short break from warning people about the dangers of Islamic assholes for a minute, so I can shine a light on another breed of unpredictable, unruly savages:
Sure, go ahead, laugh it up. And while you’re laughing, another helpless tourist is being brutally raped by one of these charming aquatic deviants.
“Ack-ack-ack-ack-ack! Take off your pants, bitch.”
I see a lot of college students running around with their “No Means No!” signs and sexual consent contracts, but I don’t see a single one of these social justice warriors passing out rape whistles to abalone divers.
The dolphin’s world is host to a vicious and insidious rape culture, hidden for decades under an opaque wet blanket of apathy, deceptively earned human trust, poor education, and seaweed.
No age, gender, or species is safe. Not even black girls.
I had a girlfriend once who had a tattoo of a dolphin on her ankle. I said to her, “Hey, why not just get a Ted Bundy tramp-stamp?” She just gave me a shitty look and flipped her hair to the side.
That next Summer she was gang-raped by a pod of bottlenose dolphins with a fetish for Juggalo strippers.
Buy Mitchell Boone a beer!