Yes, it’s the War On Women Drinking Game, so get out your shot glass and get ready to down one every time:
A Fox newscaster can’t see the irony in calling you a lesbian for wanting birth control access — pour a shot of vodka and knock it back!
The words “religious freedom” are used to justify sticking a metal wand up your junk — take a swig of Communion wine.
A pharmacist won’t fill your prescription because he had a dream last night that the retainer he lost in second grade told him only sinners use the pill, and also this is Texas — do one shot of Bourbon, cowgirl.
The Governor of a southern state declares only witches use IUDs — add rum to your sweet tea and chug!
A talk radio host blames 9/11 on your sex life — mix a LiberTea (Black Tea, Wild Turkey Bourbon and American Honey) and drink for a solid 30 seconds.
Insane Clown Posse changes the words of their song “Miracle” to illustrate how no one really knows where babies come from (it’s a miracle!) — finish off that Malt Liquor.
Mitt Romney declares — you know, we’re not even going to finish this one. Trust us, it’s bad. Two shots of Maker’s Mark.
Congress decrees all women seeking abortions must wear a Scarlet A — knock back a pint of Ruby port.
Your state cuts funding for Planned Parenthood and you have breast cancer — time for three pink jello shots!
The newest bestselling teen lit craze is about Vampires who are part of the Quiverfull movement and spend the entire book pregnant — drink a Sparkly Cosmo (Absolut, Triple Sec, Champagne, cranberry juice and lime).
A Senator who gets free Viagra from his subsidized and government-provided health plan lectures you on how it is immoral to have your private insurer pony up for Ortho Tri-cyclen — sip Schnaps until the assassination urge has passed.
Gynecologists in Arizona legally mandated to begin exams with, “And how much of a slut were you this year?” — do a shooter full of Cactus Wine (Tequila and Peyote Tea).
Women are kicked off a congressional panel about women’s health because of “cooties” and “They’re so emotional, amiright fellas?” — Grey Goose Whiskey, straight. Drink however much you feel appropriate, short of brain death.
You live a country that no longer sees you as a person, only as a walking reproductive organ that must be controlled by men at all time — down Tequila until you black out and don’t have to deal with American politics.
