Fancy British Mancave: No Girls Allowed!

Women are barred because we are gross and it is still 1831.

Photo of the boys at their little club by S O C I A L . C U T on Unsplash

This week in single-gender rich person weirdo treehouse secret cult news: There is a place called the Garrick in London, and only rich Englishmen can go to there. Try not to get too horny over this little investigative report in the New York Times:

A visitor lucky enough to cadge an invitation from a member might end up in the company of a Supreme Court justice, the master of an Oxford college or the editor of a London newspaper. The odds are that person would be a man. Women are excluded from membership in the Garrick and permitted only as guests, a long-simmering source of tension that has recently erupted into a full-blown furor.

That sounds incredibly boring to me, but it is true that this is a place where important social networking doth occur amongst the elites! It is also true that I love enjoying wealth that I personally did not have to work to earn, so I kept reading.

After The Guardian, a London newspaper, put a fresh spotlight on the Garrick’s men-only policy, naming and shaming some of its rarefied members from a leaked membership list, two senior British government officials resigned from the club: Richard Moore, the chief of the Secret Intelligence Service, and Simon Case, the cabinet secretary, who oversees nearly half a million public employees.

It is hilariously condescending for the New York Times to qualify that the Guardian is “a London newspaper.” BWAAAAHAHHAHA that’s incredible trolling. Now here is my favorite detail.

The only room off limits to women is the members’ lounge, known as Under the Stairs, where men gather after dinner. Yet, as Ms. Kelly and other women note, the most valuable relationships are often formed in such informal settings.

Yes, I’ve seen this documentary!

Anyway, neither the Guardian nor the Times explains the most important fact: This clerb is indisputably the best place in London Towne to jerk off your best friend, Sir Roger Codger-Dodger of the Hodgepodge Codger-Dodgers, whomst you met at Eton! After he does one singular silent shame-cum on the priceless antique carpet (we call that a REAL Eton mess), you can hop on your PJ to the nearest summit of British men who enjoy the Aspen Institute, which is probably like when international BURNERS who love Burning Man get together and do sex stuff or weave things whilst eating hallucinogens.

Personally, I don’t think the current members should have to resign, but they should have to let women and nonbinary folks in, because it is 2024 are you ALL out of your fucking minds?!?! Also, everyone who continues their membership — as well as any new members under the more inclusive policy I’ve designed — must be required to dress in Little Lord Fauntleroy costumes forever, and yes, I do make the rules now.

Must go have tea and clotted cream a la Roger, ta ta!