#1)  If a gentleman places his hand on your knee under the table at a dinner party with the intention of signaling you to shut up, stab him immediately in the eye with a fork (salad fork, place fork, oyster fork or dessert fork are equally apropos).  Use sufficient force to penetrate the meniscus. If eyeball juice squirts onto your food, discreetly push your plate to the side and wave the server over to replace your tainted victuals.  Do continue to verbalize whatever thought you were in the process of articulating, upping the volume just a smidge, perhaps adding a few additional points to fully flesh it out.

#2)  By age twenty, most women will have been referred to, or addressed as, “(a) whore!” an easy dozen times if not considerably more; sadly, the vast majority of men will never be thus saluted.  To correct this egregious imbalance, it is crucial to begin calling all men age sixty years or older, sans exception, “You Old Whore!”.  Exercise your own discretion regarding use of the honorific for select males younger than 60. Trust your instincts!

#3) So much language in common usage these days has veered into the territory of inappropriate.  One particularly offensive slogan has invaded the speech patterns of otherwise wholesome young ladies: that loathsome declaration of mindless contrition, “I’m sorry!”

Merely removing the involuntary interjection of this filthy little phrase from your daily vocabulary will not erase the damage done by its massive overuse.  It is mandatory to banish the words from your speech under any and all circumstances, regardless of whether you are actually experiencing genuine remorse.  Which, come on, is probably not the case anyway.  Are you sorry you stabbed that jerk in the eyeball with a fork?  You aren’t.  Sorry you called your grandpa an old whore?  I doubt it.

#4) You are familiar with the concept of the Pink Tax, along with the conspiracy theories regarding its falseness.  What bunk!  Fake news, young ladies. The Pink Tax is real, and to comport oneself properly in the doubly challenging landscape of it actually being a thing while the patriarchy conspires to undermine its veracity requires a two-pronged approach.

First, let’s consider the items most commonly affected by the surcharge:  hair care products, razors, undergarments, jeans, sweaters, shoes and adult diapers.  We’re not talking refrigerators or giant screen TVs here.  All of these commodities could easily fit into one of your overpriced hobo bags.  Are you following me here?  That’s right,  loot away!  An epidemic of the rightful redistribution of Stewart Weitzmans and quality lingerie is an inevitable consequence of one hundred plus years of getting fucked, economically, by The Man.  While you’re at it, grab some of those Lady Dignitys for your grandma.  Be sure to give a cheery shout out to The Old Whore as you walk past him to deliver the goods.

Second, we must address the hate speech.  I’m talking about the deniers; those You Tubers, the shifty-eyed businessmen waiting for the bus, your Uncle Dave, all of whom espouse the theory that the Pink Tax is a myth propagated by a nonexistent feminazi underground.  Upon encountering any of these traitors to the Revolution, there is but one simple and correct course of action.  While it would be generous to spend hours engaging in lively debate with the hope of freeing them from the prison of their idiocy, your time is too valuable.  Free them instead of their wallets, and any spare pocketed cash (pls. see You Tube University for details on enacting a proper shake-down), and continue without further delay to that next She Loot flash mob.

#5) These days, proper etiquette may come with a price.  If you adhere to today’s highest standards of right behavior, you are likely to receive unhelpful feedback. You may, for example, be accused of condoning violence and illegal activity, or contributing to social unrest.

Young ladies, hold your heads high and remember your manners.  You need not reply to all critics, yet if you do feel called to issue a response, view this as an opportunity to sound a rousing defense of personal responsibility.  You can answer only for the brick you threw, not for the hundreds of millions thrown by ladies of all ages, sick of the crap they’ve been putting up with for millennia.  And other people’s eyeballs are not your problem, and you didn’t put his hand on your knee–he did.

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Abigail King is a yoga teacher, poet and baker of tarts in Austin, TX.  This is her first stab at humor writing, and she is very happy to be Defenestrated!