Under Quarantine, Millennial Feminist Realizes She’s a Useless Sack of Shit

Now living under quarantine due to Chinese people’s filthy eating habits, “independent” barren-womb millennial women have been hit with a new crisis: they don’t know how to cook basic meals for themselves and are generally useless sacks of shit with no domestic skills.

Stuff:

Up until last week, it had probably been six months since I did a proper supermarket shop.

I’d nipped in every few weeks for bin bags and detergent, but otherwise most of my food habits were pretty much modelled on the most Millennial stereotype you could imagine.

I, like a lot of Millennial women, have always lived like I’m Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada.

We like to live our lives as a certain type of glamorously stressed young woman who’s forever stepping out of Ubers clutching coffees and text-walking into meetings shaking out our blow-dry in a too-busy-to-deal-with-everyday-banality kinda way.

Someone who survives off coffee, nervous tension and Afterpay on her extensive collection of just-above-mid-range handbags. Someone who, if she does make time to eat, lives on Uber Eats, takeaway salads, and weekends brunching out. Someone who, if she does cook, gets those dinky meal kits that have transformed dinner-for-one from a sign of spinsterhood to that of successful career girl.

Indeed, this is the typical lifestyle of a millennial “career woman”: uber eats, takeaway salads, coffee in between “work” calls and texting.

It hadn’t really occurred to me that, in the event of a pandemic, given my current level of hunter gatherer skills I’d be living off the mould at the back of the fridge. So I took Dad’s advice, returned home from Countdown laden with carrots and bananas and promptly came down with a sniffle.

It took only a week of self isolation for me to realise that firstly, New Zealand was hurtling toward lockdown and my lifestyle was about to change dramatically. And secondly, many of my Millennial attitudes to food were absolutely bananas – especially that of being conspicuously undomesticated.

The aforementioned don’t-you-know-I’m-far-too-busy-to-cook lifestyle isn’t necessarily a sign of laziness. For many of us, it’s actually a sign that we’re winning in life. A lot of Millennial lifestyle is about pace. We’re not necessarily achieving anything, but the constant sense of exhaustion from over-activity makes us feel as though we are.

These self-centered whores are living in their own fantasy world where “keeping busy” with trivial career-related nonsense makes them feel like they’re accomplishing something profound. At least this harlot now admits that she’s accomplished nothing with her pitiful “career” as a lifestyle writer.

It’s a model we learned in school from being rewarded for stuffing our lives with exams, hockey, music, Kumon, competitive cucumber carving and every other extra curricular activity with which we were over-optimised. It means that you grow up into an adult who has to be exhausted to feel as though they’re working “at their potential”. And so living off caffeine and sarcasm because you’re too busy to cook is proof that you’re performing well.

The problem is that it only takes a few days of ploddingly paced self isolation to realise that conspicuous anti-domestication wasn’t probably doing squat for you. Now that you can’t be overly busy, you’re alone in your apartment with nothing but a gangrenous carrot. And of course you’ve got the time to realise that you were just filling your life with overactivity to plug the gaps left by achievement. And worse, you can’t even comfort eat your way through your self realisation because you don’t know how to make mac and cheese.

HAHAHAHAHA

This fat pig is now realizing where she went all wrong and how her “busy” career-woman selfish lifestyle has actually done her no service. These imbecilic females think they can cruise through life getting other people to do the things that they swear they’ll never do, like cook, clean and secure shelter. The basic survival skills that our ancestors mastered over millennium have been completely lost because of the abundance and profligacy that modernity provides, especially for pampered women.

Many men lack essential survival skills as well, and have been subsumed into the globohomo lifestyle. But millennial women are especially useless for anything other than being used as a cum dumpster.

I’ve also done a complete about-face on the low level of disdain I’ve always had for domesticity that’s made me semi-proud to be someone who doesn’t cook. Many Millennial women were raised by Boomer mums, and grew up watching their lives crushed by household minutiae and the need to plan what everyone’s eating for dinner. So I never used to like going to supermarkets because I’d walk in and see the threat of a future of tiny deliberations between mince or chicken, dairy or non-dairy, whole tomatoes or chopped stretching out before me…We Millennial women promised we were never going to be Nigella. We’d break the cycle of tinned tomato oppression by being Anne Hathaway instead.

And yet one week in and I’m already thanking God for the exact domestic skills I was dissing last week. Namely, the ability to feed people and – more specifically – packet cakes. Cake has so far been the most reliable way I’ve found to cheer myself up in this holy mess. 

And so all the reasons why I held so tight to my too-busy-to-chop-a-spud Millennial mentality seem to have disappeared faster than people’s self control over toilet paper.

Maybe that’s because they were inherently just a distraction, or maybe because they were a bit self absorbed, or maybe it’s because all real priorities become sharper in a crisis. Whatever it is, as I face lockdown now, I know that I’ve got a lot of cakes to bake.

Like all millennial femoids, this one had a disdain for anything associated with traditional womanhood. Cooking, child-rearing, keeping a home in order… all cast asunder and replaced with take-out food, Netflix and bestial casual sex with random Tinder dates.

Only now, with a global pandemic crisis underway, does the harlot wake up to the fact that she’s a completely useless sack of shit that can’t even take care of herself without the aid of others. She’s like a grown baby, someone may need to change her nappies too.

The truth is that the modern crop of women are a waste of oxygen on this planet. They serve no purpose for society other than as wet holes that horny men can ejaculate into. These women have been pampered their whole lives, they’ve never had to go a single day without a roof over their heads or food on the table. They’ve never struggled and had to persevere through rough times. They’ve never had to survive on their own without the essentials dropped in front of them by generous others. If they ever get into trouble, the Feminist Daddy State will come to the rescue, and deliver the essentials to keep them afloat. They’ve always been protected, nurtured and placed on a pedestal by society.

Not so for men who are left to die on the street when work dries up. We don’t get the perks of collective victimhood that females get. We must pick ourselves up by the boot straps and fight for survival. And that’s something that dingbat millennial females will never understand because they’ve never had to live it and probably never will so long as gynocentrism remains the basis of modern society.

The best us men can do to change things is stop protecting women, stop being generous with them, stop pandering and pampering them, stop helping them. Let them struggle, let them fight for their own survival, let them suffer when hard times come. Most women look on with indifference at struggling men living on the streets, and so we too should be savagely indifferent to them and any struggles they may encounter. Only when men stop simping and catering to female whims will women collectively learn the lesson that their current mentality of selfishness, greed and egoism is not sustainable and is destroying our civilization.