You know what I wonder about Wonder Woman? When did the estrogenocide begin, and how come we got no advanced warning? A pox! A pox on those cervixecutioners and their fallopian agenda! My (male) God, save yourselves! Save your boys and your grandfathers! Save the weird uncle who tells inappropriate stories. Save Dad's collection of vintage Playboys. The women are coming! And not in the PornHub way!

I saw Wonder Woman, a film about a superhero who is a woman (unlike a man), and I am shook. I'd heard the kerfuffle over the Alamo Drafthouse offering women-only screenings, and like many of you, I laughed it off. "Who cares?" thought I. "Just a few crazy dames putting on their lipstick and letting the dishes soak while they go have their little hen party, watching a movie about some kickass World War I soldiers and their gal pal. Let 'em have their fun before they come home. To whom? Daddy, that's whom. Or who. Whichever is manlier."

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But let me tell you this, dear reader -- and by "dear," I don't mean "my dear," like a lady, because men, right now I want you to stop reading this out loud to your little lady. Go have her fix us a nice glass of Scotch. You read this alone. Stop moving your lips so she doesn't see. Or move to a room she isn't allowed in, like your tannery / bodybuilding studio. Good. Now that we're alone, I can warn you: Wonder Woman isn't about kickass World War I soldiers and their gal pal. It's about a kickass gal and her World War I buddies. The men ... they're ... secondary characters!