I am a female lobster from the state of Maine. And as a female lobster, I am vehemently opposed to Supreme Court judicial nominee Brett Kavanaugh. It is widely known that he will likely vote to overturn Roe v. Wade and that he believes a sitting president cannot be indicted.
He also went to private school, so you know his rich ass eats a ton of lobster. So again, screw Brett Kavanaugh.
More to the point. Susan Collins, female Senator from Maine, plans to vote “yes” on Judge Kavanaugh. Why a female would do this to her fellow females is beyond my comprehension – and I’m a fucking lobster. I don’t even have a brain. It’s just a hodgepodge of loose nerve endings that scientists believe can’t even process the feeling of pain. Yes, even a creature this stupid can spot the dangers of Brett Kavanaugh and yet Susan Collins seems to find him charming and trustworthy.
So, Mrs. Collins, let me get into the weeds here. Or, rather, the seaweeds.
Here is how lobsters mate: when the female molts, and sheds her exoskeleton, the male turns her over, pierces her abdomen with his pleopods, and deposits sperm packets into her belly. She stores the sperm for fifteen months before it moves on to fertilize her 5,000 eggs. After birth, 90% of those young larvae will get eaten by other marine animals.
So to break this down: under the beliefs of potential Supreme Court Justice Kavanaugh, should I choose to have sex and accidentally become pregnant, I should also have to discard my only line of defense (literally bare my soul!), go through a year and a half of labor, then raise 5,000 children I never wanted, and then watch 4,000 of those children die by getting devoured alive by schools of fish? Are you fucking kidding me? Not. Effing. Okay.
And if you think that’s okay, Susan Collins, fuck you, too. How could you possibly vote “yes” and do such a disservice to your own gender? How could you betray 150 million people in a single word? The fact that you’re even on the fence is a humungous disgrace.
I swear to God, if you vote “yes,” whenever you get back to Maine I will hide out in a grocery store tank, wait for you to buy me for dinner, and then straight pinch you until you fucking bleed from the fucking face.
Yes, I understand that then you will boil me and eat me, but my death will not have been in vain. Fuck it. I can’t feel pain anyway.
