Woke Women of Instagram

 

Woke Women of Instagram

The Age of Incomplete Enlightenment


She’s committed and passionate. She’s a Pisces, though she objects to the use of the fish’s likeness without permission. She believes in anarchy. She hates the mole on her left buttock and carnivores. She’s outraged by the system and loud garbage trucks after Sunday Funday.

She, (a pronoun that she has told her followers is under consideration for dumping in favor of the more inclusive they), doesn’t post many thirsty beach shots, though there are a few, right cheek only) among the photos of her rescue chinchilla and her life hacks for ecofriendly urination.

For weeks she has reminded us that she loathes discrimination against races, religions, species, genders, non-genders, abilities, plants, and sunrises. She informs us that exclusionary practices will not be tolerated, she demands that we unfollow if we have ever even witnessed any of a list of transgressions against humanity that she posts in texts, Dostoevskian in length and community college dropout in content, then she, soon to be they, treats us to this diatribe:

Brunette girl in peace sign shirt and jeans
Photo by Natasha P. on Unsplash

OMG, an ancient male spoke to me without permission at CrueltyFreeFoods today. It’s so disgusting, he made eye contact! Extra double grossathon. Like, there should be ten laws governing speech from these creeps. Like they shouldn’t just wear a mask, they should wear a muzzle. I mean, why would he even look at me, he was like 34, the stench of death clung to him. I hate to be rude if he died of old age on the way to his car that he’s too old to operate or something, but yuck, I don’t know if I have the crystal configuration to om off the skusty aura.

I tearfully unfollow, then call the casket company, to order my imminent permanent resting pl

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