Largely a load of superficial misandrist nonsense, dealing out platitudinous drivel about the obvious and obviously false. Taken seriously at Berkeley, but dismissed at decent universities.
'Hey dad, i'm thinking about taking women's studies at university next year.'
'What happened to philosophy, politics and economics, son?'
'Yeah right!...who wants to know about dead white men?!'
'i'll see you at the drive-thru.'
A good-looking young woman, usually blonde with large breasts, who pretends she doesn't want to be tickled, but makes sure her breasts wobble invitingly and her gusset ripens when she is.
'I say Barnabus, your niece Lucy seems unusually reluctant to let me ruffle the duster around her decolletage and gusset this afternoon.'
'Mock-protests of a ticklish slut, archdeacon Merryweather. Persist and you will be rewarded by squeals of joy, although you may try using the octopus from my study. Won't you have a sherry before your next attempt?'
The pleasantly fishy emanations from the vulva of a well-endowed blonde slut in heat that cause olfactory delight and the involuntary twitching of the bishop's eyebrows.
'Barnabus, a most appetising fish course wafts through from the pantry. May I enquire as to what fruit of the sea we might feast upon this evening?'
'There's no fish course, it's just my playful niece Lucy's slut-stink. Most invigorating. More wine, Tristian?'
The after-dinner refreshment in a gentleman's club or society gathering.
'Geoffrey, I hear the Royal Society held a capital soiree, with the most exquisite selection of cunt. Not too pungent, or sloppy.'
'Indeed, Cavendish. The blonde niece of Barnabus was a particularly delectable morsel; tidy, clipped and with a dash of salty haddock. Father Roland almost wept.'