While sitting in a café, I nearly spit out my coffee as I read I, Anonymous “Breeder Eaters” from last week’s Mercury. If you don’t want others to use such vile words as “barren wasteland,” “hag,” “old maid,” “impotent” or "just plain useless" then keep your fucking disgusting comments to yourself and stop using the offensive terminology of “breeder.” You have resorted to defining this feminist solely by my reproductive abilities—and since we have deduced everyone to sheer biology, you can go fuck yourself.
How dare you. How dare you assume that people entering a business with infants or children are just being selfish to ask for seating. Have you taken on the notion that the children might not be their own? No, I’m sure you haven’t as you sip on your latte and peer over your black hipster glasses reading Kant and trying to look smart. Next time you go to your clinic to get your junk checked out because it burns when you pee, look up. You might see this breeder mom inspecting your business and silently judging you. Hopefully, you will die before my kid has to care for your old ass in a nursing home.