May 23, 2010
On behalf of a very large group of women who are too shy to express the following, please note that the root of this entry is a conversation with a girlfriend whose husband expected her to remain as slim and trim and gorgeous as the day they met, while he slowly turned into a beached whale. Not because of a physical condition or handicap which stood in his way, but rather because he became lazy. Uninterested. Not caring enough about the relationship or her to do otherwise.
Until they got divorced, one of the reasons for which was the fact that she was no longer attracted to him physically.
If you are a man looking for a “fit & slim” female, and making it abundantly clear that this is the case, then it should go without saying that you too should be someone who – at the very least – is a fit & slim individual.
Secondly. If you are a man married and demanding that your wife remain “fit & slim”, then you too had better be hitting the gym, and hitting it hard.
Doesn’t that seem fair? And if some of you find this entry insulting, then please feel free to label me, as well as every single one of my friends, “fittest”. We will be able to sleep just fine tonight, thank you.
Consider us a no-fly zone for Double Standards; body size and fitness not withstanding. (And if you are willing to engage in double standards where – literally – your ass is concerned, I can’t help but wonder whether you’re likely willing to engage in double standards where many other things are concerned; all of which is unattractive.)
And for the record:
Spare tires? Chubby.
Man boobs? Chubbier.
Triple chins? Chubbiest.
Unless you are a small infant, “chubby” is not a way you should want to be described – not if you are demanding that your partner be the opposite.
For the record, I want my partner to look a certain way and so bust my ass to keep it a certain size – otherwise, I would never have a particular idea of the body-size I want in a partner.
To every single woman I know, this is not attractive, and many women shy away from saying this out loud. I am one of the women who is not attracted to the triple chins, the spare tires and / or the man boobs, and I don’t have a problem saying this out loud and even putting it into print.
Let’s fight about it.
September 01, 2009
I went back to CrackBook well over a year ago. Since that time, they’ve changed their fkn layout like they’re piecing together a god damn jigsaw puzzle.
Watch the bastards render my account inactive.
August 27, 2009
Pre-emptive note no1: I have to do this because I’ve received a couple of odd emails from people asking if this was about them. For the record – NO. If you’re someone with whom I am communicating in any way shape or form (even if it’s a kind email once a year), this entry is not about you. If this entry was about you, you’d have known it beyond the shadow of any doubt.
Pre-emptive note no2: If this entry isn’t about you, then neither is the one titled On Forgiveness & Apology.
Alright. In the spirit of Ramadan, you’d think that what I am about to write will be soft and kind and gentle and all things forgiving. But it’s not. In fact, it’s quite the opposite of all things gentle. It shall also be very short because you need to know that the entry I wrote about forgiving someone who hasn’t asked for your forgiveness way back in February of 2008, isn’t for everyone. This entry still generates a flurry of emails weekly; it is not for everyone, specifically neither the forgiver nor the forgivee.
It’s not even for me, at all times.
It’s how to behave in an elevated manner, and quite frankly and specifically to me, when I see the asshattery around me, I have no desire to always be ‘elevated’. I retain the right to be a machete when facing any lying, cheating, thieving, oppressing, passive aggressive, eye-rolling abusive fuck-up. And so should you.
There is a fine line between being elevated and being a fucking moron when it comes to letting people get away with shit in your life. You want to be a degenerate pushover?, be my guest; just don’t play the martyr of elevated and enlightened behaviour, and instead make sure to own it and suck it up like a real wo/man.
The bottom line is: there are some people that you will never forgive, whether it’s because you don’t feel like you can actually get past it / they deserve it, or because you can’t be bothered to repeatedly expend the copious amounts of energy required to forgive the asshattery of someone who never acknowledged or owned the act of lying, cheating, thieving, oppressing, abusing you and your trust all the while, paper-cutting you to death with their passive aggression.
Just make sure that the anger sits in a silo labelled ‘so-and-so’, and it doesn’t spill over on to how you treat anyone else. I expect to be held accountable for my own asshattery, not that of others. Extend that courtesy to those around you, at least…
**********
Footnote: Yes. Even the ones we choose not to forgive aren’t born to hurt us. And just because you choose not to forgive someone, it doesn’t mean you’re labelling them ‘evil’.
P.S. Clearly, this is in response to all of the other emails whose sole focus is men / women in a relationship. Just so we’re clear – we do know that people need forgiveness, and people perform fantastical feats of asshattery even beyond the confines of dating, right?
P.S. Immediately below this is a quote from the Qu’ran on how to not let other people’s poor behavior change how you would act. Call me a bad Muslimah, go ahead…I’ll forgive you.
July 09, 2009
I woke up to an avalanche of emails linking to MJ’s kid’s speech during his memorial. People are forwarding the clip because they think it is beautiful and moving and endearing.
I watched in horror as these court jester wh*res displayed their grotesque need for attention, pushing that little child into the spotlight; amazed at how they were so willing to place this kid into the very environment which fucked up Michael Jackson himself. Also, how immediately they went against the very grain of MJ’s fierce protection of the children’s identities.
And to the emails that ask me what I think of Michael Jackson himself; my opinion is simple and it is that he will remain a brilliant musical genius the likes of which we may never see again. May he, like all of us, rest in peace.
Comments closed. If you’re about to email me telling me you think I’m a cold-hearted bitch. Save it.
March 31, 2009
I don’t have the words to express anything…but…maybe that if she enjoyed herself so much, they should have left her there.
Happy “recreating”, Dumba**.
(P.S. There were rumors that the above was an April Fool’s joke, only now her “official” page says that it wasn’t. Dumba** she remains, then.)
March 10, 2009
On principle, I was opposed to reading Twilight because of the lunatic storyline communicated to me. Some sh*t about a teenage girl who falls in love with a vampire who then ends up with a werewolf (the girl, not the vampire), and then somehow has a child with the vampire (the girl, not the werewolf). Or something.
Opposed, on principle to reading this series of books because there are so many brilliant books waiting for attention, that I was extremely hesitant to instead surrender my precious hours to these ones.
I finally did. I went out to dinner with a girlfriend who was swooning over the storyline. She gave me her book and so I began.
But not for long.
As is often the case, I have extreme reactions to things or ideas or situations or people. I don’t half-ass most anything, let alone a response to sh*t such as this book.
If I could, I would have stabbed this book. This is how much I hated it. Nearly as much as The Devil Wears Prada.
Not only was this horribly written, it also had a weird sense of sexuality-but-not sterility about it that was simply creepy as the storyline was about A CHILD in (obsessive sexual-but-not-really-as-the-mum’s-reading-this-would-have-a-fit-if-these-two-got-groovy-in-this-first-of-three-sh*t-books) love with A VAMPIRE. Oh my God, looking at that sentence, I am ashamed to have given even 5 minutes to this book.
Obviously, I did not make it very far into the book; one afternoon wasted on a little under half of Twilight and I drove it back to my girlfriend’s place and had to control myself not to throw it with all my strength at her door repeatedly until she answered…only to keep throwing it at her as she stood in the doorway.
We grappled for a little and she pushed me down on to the sofa, forcing me to watch the film instead. (Thankfully for free. I wouldn’t give a cent to this stupid film.)
Much to her dismay, I lasted through the 2 hour comedy. She tried to turn it off, but I would have none of it, as I’d not laughed that hard in quite some time.
For the record no1: I think both the lead actors are equally sh*t. The girl looked as if she were in a perpetual state of stupid whereas the boy a perpetual state of puke.
For the record no2: Really? Seriously? How are any of you still believing in this unhealthy formula that is so repugnant?
Vampire = bad boy meets girl and she changes everything in order to be with him while he, nothing.
This storyline, perpetuated by gender-based fu*k-nuttery is repugnant. It. Is. Vulgar. Does this make you sad? Do you think I’m cruel? Possibly. Go ahead and tell me I have poor taste in literature, please, or that I am heartless. Please – I invite you to.
Still, though, right now I wish to slap my screen.
P.S. If I had a daughter, I would rip this from her hands and burn it.
P.S. to the P.S. I must admit that the baseball sequence in the film version was absolutely beautifully shot.
November 12, 2008
I was recently going through a friend’s bookshelf and among a deeply disturbing volume of this genre’s nonsense, I stumbled upon: Why Men Marry Bitches: A woman’s guide to winning her man’s heart.
I paused.
Took a very deep breath.
…& proceeded…
[Aside: A few years ago, a girlfriend moved out of the country and I inherited a stack of books, among which were a few of this sort. Mostly, they were tips for dating that were relatively hilarious. Unlike my girlfriend (who I adore), I’ve never been a big dater because I tend to find it annoying and boring, ergo, the books amounted to fodder for fun. (Another aside: This is not to say I don’t date, but rather, it is to say that I only date when my interest is very peeked and that doesn’t happen very often because I would rather spend time alone than on a date with a dummy.)]
Plot
During the short time it took me to rip through this book, I found myself physically reacting to it by turning the pages with such force that I may have ripped a few pages. Perhaps.
Forget about the offensive title; as in this day and age, that a woman would refer to other women as ‘bitches’ and consider it a compliment boggles the mind. (This a personal belief that stems from my perspective on empowering oneself through the embracing and owning of words that were once used to attack said individual such as the use of the ‘n’ word. I am deeply offended when I hear it, no matter who may be using it. Clearly, I do not engage in standpoint epistemology.)
Moving past the title, I’ll touch on the two caricatured genders within the book:
A: Men are one-dimensional insecure creatures who will never be honest with a female and who only react to mistreatment and game-playing.
The proof is in the pudding(!), as follows:
1) Men are manipulative even though they don’t really know what they want. Case in point: Men like a good cook in the kitchen. You can feign being a good cook by buying a lot of pots and pans and always leaving them out. He’ll marry you and he’ll never notice that you can’t cook. Instead he’ll start cooking!
2) Men are simple and only need the following: sexual escapades in the bedroom (and please do not tell him the truth about your past. And if the ‘truth’ is in fact…true…then he won’t believe you anyway. A 34 year old virgin? WHO ARE YOU KIDDING?)
3) Men are disrespectful and must be ‘put in line’ by your glorious ‘bitchiness’. When this happens, you will then be able to change the true nature of the man , turning him into a pussy because that’s what he secretly wants.
4) Men are not honest and are mean-spirited so you must always be on the alert for such behaviour and you must always be able to ‘give as good as you get’. This is called ‘information gathering’ and it is called ‘being sassy’. Never mind that you’re reading this book, ergo are mindless, ergo wouldn’t understand sass if it bent you over the couch backwards and had its way with you. Please don’t be direct and ask him if something’s up – instead, play games because you are a pathetic creature and your number one hobby is How Can I Manipulate A Man Into Marrying Me?. Better still, go to Hawaii for a weekend of fun in the sun with your girlfriends and feed off of one anothers’ pathetic-ness.
5) Always take a man at his word. I love that you’re too dumb to notice that this is one of the many blatant and opposing viewpoints within this book.
6) Men are weak and on this weakness one must play in order to hook and sink said ‘man’; this is the true nature of ‘love and marriage’.
7) Men only want a ‘fun’ girl so never show him your ability to bring down the hammer when necessary; don’t ever have a difficult moment, just be ‘fun’. Furthermore, you must refrain from behaving “emotionally”, since that is your weakness, Female. Finally, please remember that it is in Male nature to be difficult and when that happens, accept it and roll with it while you place a beer in the fridge for him. Give him time to cool off; he will respect your level headed response because he doesn’t expect that from a female. (Sub-section to point 7: Always keep him guessing!)
B: Women are one-dimensional insecure creatures who are not allowed to be engaging, passionate, honest and real. Instead, they must only be reactionary and strategic in their approach to ‘the man they love’ (because when you’re in love with a man, your natural female instinct is to be a c*nt; don’t fight it because it’s inbred since Eve).
Generally, a female must:
Play games.
Manipulate.
Lie.
React.
Entrap.
View men as both the enemy, as well as prey.
Believe that Dolly Parton, she of the unnatural body and face, is a role model to which one must aspire.
Specifically, a female must:
Never tell a man she misses him (or risk being a downer and needy).
Stroke the man’s ego by saying things such as ‘I feel safe with you’ – don’t worry about the truth or merit of that statement. He’s stupid enough to never see through your games. You are brilliant; pat yourself on the back.
Never tell a man you like him. Make sure he says it first, and then that way you will be the one who has control and power over him, rather than the other way around (because there’s no room for equality between a male and female, most especially not in a relationship. Remember: You’re at war, so keep your eye on the ball: INSEMINATION!).
Always remember that every action he takes is about you, and you must react accordingly. While you’re at it, please ask him to reiterate his fondness of you by constantly providing you with reassurance that you’re The One…just like in The Matrix.
Important! NEVER ASK A DIRECT QUESTION. (Or maybe I’ve already mentioned that?)
Critically, a female must:
Never tell a man she likes him, finds him interesting or is looking forward to learning more about him.
Just don’t do anything that would be engaging. Instead, let him do the work because that is the only way he will appreciate you.
Because he, in the same fashion as you, is a mindless insecure freak of nature.
Because he, just as you, is a fkn incompetent socially inept individual.
Because he, just as you, likely spends all of his time fixating on everyone else’s actions and trying to then react to said actions…
Because. Because. Because it is easier to follow and to react than it is to possess confidence…know what you want…and make a point of going for it.
After all, who needs self respect and honesty when one can play games?
Glaring Aporia Within The Plot
The premise of this book is to ‘make yourself gone’ and know that ‘you don’t need to be married to be okay’; to have a full life is when you will ‘make him chase you…until you catch him’.
Naturally, this begs the question: If you have a full life and don’t need marriage to feel complete, then why in holy hell are you buying a book that is all about entrapping a man in your efforts to be married? Because last I checked, you don’t eat a cupcake to reduce the size of your ass, and you don’t go to the gym, to thicken that same ass. And you most definitely do not purchase a book about entrapping men if you’re not interested in said fkn entrapment…unless, of course, you are in fact a degenerate retard and 2 + 2 = 17 in your world.
Curtain Called
Set aside the above blather and the glassy-eyed nature of the caricatured genders about which this book was written.
Clean your palette and pay very close attention to the following, please…
The only ‘rules’ you need (and this only pertains to the truly confident among you – male and female) are: A quality individual who is worth paying attention to and one worth engaging with will never be entrapped. More importantly, they will see right through the game playing (and if they didn’t, would you want to be with someone so stupid, anyway?).
A quality individual will never think you’ve called too many times or said too much or been too honest. A quality individual will be honest and will expect honesty, and if they can’t handle either, then you will find someone who can take you for all of you. (This should not, by any stretch of the imagination, be misunderstood as a green light for either the male or female to be psychotic; You can love and be loved and respect one anothers’ borders. In fact, this may be the only way to love.)
Specifically, to women, let me say that in your efforts to be ‘strong’, you do not need to be an asshole and you most definitely do not need to be disengaged from the man who has peeked your interest because trust me when I tell you that it takes a strong woman to be weak in the right man’s arms. And if anyone tells you that wanting someone is a form of weakness, then you’re speaking with a needy individual and neediness is a far cry from wanting.
Though you’re a smart bunch, let me clarify: Wanting someone amounts to a realization that they are, indeed, someone who brings added value to your life. Wanting someone is extending a warm set of arms to a person because you wish to do so. Needing someone is because you feel incomplete alone; unfortunately, if you feel incomplete alone, no one will ever be able to fill that gap, marriage or otherwise. (Essentially: Loners are sexy for this very distinction, as they fall into the former category.)
Finally, I will say that being strong is not being a bitch. What it is is a clear awareness of the person that you are and what you bring to the table. No one can touch or shake that if it’s solid within your own mind. Period.
Unlike the bile spewed by such books, the reality is that both men and woman are emotional creatures. The reality is that both men and women have their own brand of crazy; the nuanced approach is to learn about the crazy, embrace the crazy, don’t try to change the fkn crazy, and let the crazy run its course when it needs to. (If either the male or the female can’t handle the crazy, then you’ll find someone worth your salt who will love you and all of your crazy, and vice versa if you need someone with less crazy. Don’t try to change who you are to meet the fake breasted caricature of relationships created by offensive books such as these…please…)
All of the above to say: Please stop perceiving the opposite (or same, or either) sex as the enemy. The sisters will thank you, as will the boy bands.
May 27, 2008
“Children as young as 6 have been forced to have sex with aid workers and peacekeepers in return for food and money…”
I started crying when I read the above article, and it didn’t get much better as I was reading the report itself. Please read it if you can as it’s just a quick 37 pages. Then do something about it, either by donating money or sending an email or writing a letter or volunteering at a local shelter for abused children.
I’ve been reading a lot lately about child sexual abuse and exploitation and I can not actually coherently articulate what I think should happen to adult men** who so much as touch anyone below the age of 18. My ‘articulation’ can’t form a linear coherent and logical train of thought; it does, though, give rise to images of crowbars, bats, chains and rusty saws. Without exaggeration, the Saw films would look like a Disney undertaking compared to my imagination.
Sad aside: Did you know that most of the time the (vile, repugnant, unworthy of life) Molester is a trusted family member or someone that would be characterized as a family member, such as an ‘uncle’ figure?
Even sader aside: Most of the time, the parent(s) is aware that something is going on.
What would you have done to both the parent and that ‘uncle’? What would you do? Because there is nothing that you could tell me you would do that I’ve not already imagined I too would do. And then some. Or maybe: And then too much to merely call “some”.
Parents have a duty to protect their children with their life. As I type this, I choke on the mere thought that my parents would shirk this responsibility where I was concerned, as a child, or where I am concerned still, as an adult. This duty, I believe, is among the most important – if not the most important in our lives. I can’t possibly imagine what kind of weak, pathetic, disparate character one would possess if they suspected that their child was being molested and DID NOTHING. I actually can’t imagine it. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I can’t think straight if I try to understand it and I loose all cool even writing about it.
When those duties are not taken seriously or with the ferociousness as the protection offered in the animal kingdom when a mama or baba has to protect their cubs, then that “parent” deserves to have every bone in their body broken. And I don’t give a rat’s ass about the cycle of violence; I don’t care if that parent was previously abused or neglected because there is NO EXCUSE. There is NO EXCUSE. You want to cry me a f*cking river about your past; I’ll tell you to f*ck off, still.
As with the situation referenced above, there is – and I don’t use this term lightly – an ‘evil’ to the character of those who would commit such a crime against children. A parent’s silence is an equally – if not more so – wretched complicity in the act.
There is no recourse, there is no apology, and there is no forgiveness of these individuals. There should only be death.
I’ve just donated to Save the Children (Canada); I recommend you consider doing the same. For those of you in the USA, you may donate here, while those of you in the UK, can make contact with the organization here.
——————–
** Save for very rare situations, the impulse to sexually molest children does not seem to be part of the psychological composite of females, but is, rather, a compulsion that seems to lie deep within the male psyche.
Apologies for my going off topic, but the subject of child molestation is one of a handful of subjects that throw me into a tailspin…as you’ve just witnessed.
rss feed