Look Before You Squat: One Woman’s Advice on Toilet Seats

Ladies, look before you sit.  This seems to have reached epidemic levels.  Ladies’ lady parts are plunging themselves into toilets because they aren’t looking before plopping their naked asses on seats other people pee on.  This is something I, as a lady, find confusing.  You see, I’m quite protective of my bum and genitals, thus I look before I squat.

I always have, and thus, I have never fallen into the toilet.  I am really tired of hearing women complain about men leaving the seat up like they’re being attacked and/or disrespected.  Someone just forgot.  It’s like if someone left a seat cushion off a couch…  but you’d probably see that first, and then put it back before setting your rear end on it.  How is this a guy’s responsibility?  You should be more concerned about your own bum.  You should care more.  You shouldn’t feel so entitled.  Also, it’s just a damn toilet seat.  Just move it.  You’ll have to wash your hands either way.

Yes, I think it makes sense for the person who originally moved the seat to move it back, but who gives a crap?  (Pun SO, SO intended.)

Just look.  You’re putting your naked butt (which is really close to you genitals) on something AND YOU’RE NOT GONNA LOOK?

Just look.  What if there’s pee on the seat?  What if someone else’s pubes are on the seat?  Wouldn’t you want to check for that anyway?  Wouldn’t you also want to make sure there’s TP while you’re at it.  Just look.

Remember Jesus when you’re pooping

Evangelicals make it a point to spread the “word of God” everywhere. Including, it now seems, at a public bathroom near you.

image

Taken in a public bathroom, June 19th

The last thing I want to think about when I’m doing my bathroom business is what Jesus would do. He’d probably shit just like everyone else, but I’m pretty sure it’s not necessary for me to be thinking about that while I am. I thought church was all weird about bathroom stuff anyhow; at the very least it’s weird about bathroom-related anatomy. So why put pamphlets–and not even one, but FOUR–on the TP dispenser? C’mon! Don’t make it so easy for me to make jokes about wiping my ass with your nonsense. And furthermore, you’re accosting me with Bible-thumping in the most private of places. But I guess Evangelicals in general have a demonstrated interest in ladyparts these days (and about our discussion of them), so why not the ladies’ room, right? REALLY. Give a sister a break.

When did the grocery store become so weird?

I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point the grocery store became a magnet for weirdos and really strange behavior. In high school, I worked in a small grocery store, so I knew that weirdos, like everyone else, go to the grocery store. But I also thought that it was only because I was working eight hour shifts four days a week that I happened to see a few of them every week. And granted, we had our resident weirdos. But as a customer, I used to go to the grocery store pretty much without incident. The past few weeks have changed that.

Why is a small child pop-, lock-, and dropping-it on my cart?

I turned away only for one, brief moment. ONE MOMENT, and there’s a small child booty dancing in the one-foot space between my cart and the shelf of cookies. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? You’re six years old, and you’re acting like this is the club. It’s the cookie aisle for crying out loud! That’s not a shelf of liquor at a bar, it’s a stack of Keeblers. AND YOU’RE SIX. What is going on?!?

Since when is ass crack an acceptable fashion statement?

That’s called plumber’s crack for a reason. Not appealing. Especially when you’re a woman in her late twenties behind me in the check-out line. The worst part was that this lady was wearing a belt with her jeans, which means that she has purposely slung them so low that her butt is peeking out of the back, not just that her pants slid down while she was walking around–still not acceptable, but, you know, perhaps slightly more understandable?

I don’t need to hear your life stories while you scan my food.

When I was a cashier, I smiled, I asked people how their day was going, and I’d sometimes comment on the weather. There are acceptable topics of conversation between customer and cashier. Talking about your lunatic brother-in-law or your aunt who just got brain surgery don’t fall into that “acceptable” category. It’s especially unacceptable when you expect the customer to share some highly personal information with you as a result of your own over-sharing, and then to get irritated when they act uncomfortable or simply refuse to share similar information. Come off it, ya weirdo.

You’re a friggin’ grocery store; how can you not have heavy whipping cream?

You call yourselves a grocery store? You, sirs and madams, have utterly failed.

Why does everyone in the parking lot act like a jackass?

When I have my blinker on, that means I’m taking the space. It doesn’t mean you’re entitled to it after you see I have my blinker on because you’re in the “lane” closer to it. On another note, if I make a move you don’t like, give me the finger, roll down your window and yell an obscenity at me, but don’t purposefully park behind my car and wait for me to get out so you can fight me, and, when I don’t get out fast enough, slowly circle the parking lot as you lie in wait for me. You creep! That’s stalking!

 

I mourn the loss of days when I could go to the grocery store without being accosted by weirdness and weirdos.

Guest Post: Seven Things You Should Never Do on a Blind Date

I moved two hours away from my hometown last June, and it has been ridiculously hard to meet people. Scratch that, it has been ridiculously hard to meet normal people. (Not that I don’t enjoy egotistical douchebags from the club…)

Since it has been difficult to meet someone besides at the bar, I decided to join a dating website. I won’t name names, but let’s just say the commercials are false advertisement. Here is the commercial that prompted me to join:

So, because for whatever reason I thought this was a good idea, I made a profile on this dating website and then waited patiently to meet my soul mate. In the meantime, I had several friends supporting me on my decision, saying “Oh yes, my friend so-and-so met her boyfriend on <insert dating website here>!”

Let me tell you, everyone lies. They lie about these “friends” because they do not actually exist. Because I have no clue how they met a decent person among these stupid assholes.

After being basically stalked via internet a few times, I was finally messaged by a guy who seemed, well… normal. Shocking. We sent a few messages back and forth and decided to meet for drinks in a public place about 30 minutes away from me.

After this meeting, I can now say I hold the claim to the worst blind date in the world. Some of you may argue this was not blind because I saw what he looked like before meeting him, but I will go to my grave confirming it was blind because the guy that showed up and the guy in the picture were not the same person.

Which brings me to the point of this post.

7 Things You Should Never Do on a Blind Date

1. Don’t not be the person in your photos. I don’t know why I actually have to write this (or any of these really) but for some reason, this guy thought he would swoon me by showing up as someone completely different than the person he pretended to be on the dating website. In this day and age, Facebook and Google will allow the person you are going on a date with to see your pictures. Keep the ones on your dating page recent, and don’t try to be someone you are not. Because when you show up with what little hair you have left slicked back over your balding head, and the picture of you on your dating profile has a head full of blonde hair, I will be pissed. (I was pissed.)

2. Don’t tell me about your recent run-in with the law. The splendid human being I went on a blind date with told me as soon as we sat down and ordered drinks, “I really shouldn’t be drinking these, I am on probation.” Great, now I am fearing for my life even more than before.

3. Don’t over share. This follows point #2. After letting me know about his stint in parole and then probation, the guy proceeded to tell me about his mom’s cancer and subsequently, death, his sister’s autism, his brother’s bipolar disorder, and his hatred for black and Mexican people. Within 5 minutes of meeting him. Before I ever said a word.

4. Don’t be an idiot. Because I live in Michigan, I get to do a cool thing with my hand anytime I need to tell someone where I’m from. Basically, you hold up your right hand, palm facing toward you, and stick your thumb out. That’s the lower peninsula of Michigan, and you can point on it where you’re from. See below:

Every Michigander knows this. I think they teach you when you’re still in the womb. When this guy (born and raised in Michigan) asked me where I was from, naturally, I held out my hand and pointed to the crook of the thumb (Bay City). He proceeded to tell me that the Michigan hand goes this way (flipping my hand over, and frankly touching me way too early for just having met me). After several minutes of convincing him that no, Michigan goes this way (flipping my hand back over) I pointed again to the area where I am originally from. (This is where he showed me his super smarts)

“Oh, so you’re right by Canada?”

 

Before going out into society, please look at a map and understand your state’s borders, waterways, and layout.

5. Don’t touch me in any way after just meeting me.  Again, I don’t know why I even have to put this, but apparently it needs to be said. Seriously dude, we just met, why on earth are you A. touching me B. trying to hold my hand and C. telling me you want to never let go? No means no, in all accords. Please stop touching me. Stop touching me. STOP TOUCHING ME.

6. Don’t tell me you’re going to kill me. I wish this were a joke. When I couldn’t take this date anymore, I faked getting sick in the bathroom of the restaurant so I could leave. He asked to follow me home (uh, HELL NO) and then tried to kiss me after I just told him I threw up. Then, as I started walking away, he says,

“I better see you again or I’ll kill you.”

WHAT. THE. HELL. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?! Did you just say that to me within an hour of meeting me?! You don’t say that to someone after knowing them for years. Now I am really fearing for my life. I purposely took a roundabout way home, cutting through suburban neighborhoods, checking in my rearview mirror to make sure this person wasn’t following me, and talking on the phone to my parents.

7. Don’t text/call me incessantly. I had just pulled out of the parking lot (who am I kidding, bolted out of there) when I started receiving multiple texts from Johnny Crazy Ass, saying the following,

 “Are you okay? I really should have followed you home.”

“I am so worried about you.”

“Did you like me?”

“I think you’re amazing.” 

“FML I just passed two cops!!!”

After not responding, he then started calling me. I had to block his phone number through my cellular company. He must have realized what I had done, because then he started calling me from his house phone. I had to block that number, too. Thankfully, he ran out of devices to call me from, because Verizon only allows 6 blocked numbers per account.

Needless to say, I am no longer on this dating website. I was willing to give the whole online dating thing a try. I was hoping to prove that online dating isn’t crazy and meet a good guy who could potentially be the guy I married. But it is crazy. I don’t know why people subject themselves to this type of torture. I learned my lesson, and I hope that by reading what I went through, you might save yourself from a painful experience like mine.

&&&   Kate has known Lisa since they were too young and innocent to be ranting and raising concerns, aside from their third grade teacher’s inability to spell. Lisa is a Social Media Specialist who lives, works, and now avoids online dating sites in the Detroit metro area. 

On Men’s Rights

With all these recent political debates going about women’s health issues and so-called gay rights (ahem, Equal Rights, ahem), I thought it was only fair to question the rights of white, middle class males.  Hell, I’ll question the rights of all males!  That’s what we’re doing now, right?  We’re just picking a group at random and taking away everything they deserve, or steadily denying their obvious rights.  Great!  Men are first on my chopping block.

Editor’s Note:

Before we get started, I want to clarify the point of this post…

I understand that this blog might seem largely anti-man; it is meant to be a heavy-handed metaphor.  When someone says, “Men shouldn’t have the right to vote,” people can easily react with, “Well, that’s ridiculous and stupid.  We would never take away men’s right to vote just because they’re men.”  That’s what I’m going for…  If it is easy to see that we wouldn’t want to deny men’s rights simply based on their manliness, I hope it is easy to see that others shouldn’t be denied rights on equally basic identities.  We’re not confused as to whether or not sex is a choice in a man, but we are confused about the “choice” of things like sexuality, marriage, and abortion.  Personally, I don’t care if someone thinks being gay is a choice or not, either way, the rights should be provided.  I get to choose if I want to be a liberal, or an English major, or a girlfriend.  I want to also choose whether or not I can become a wife of a wife, or the wife of a husband.

I attacked men as an example.  I do not think men are solely or wholly responsible for these issues that exist in American politics.  That would be highly irresponsible.  I believe that men are historically given more power, more say, and more of a share when it comes to politics and political movement.  That does not, however, implicate all males as guilty parties in some kind of conspiracy.  It simply means that men tend to have more power.  This is why I chose to use men as a group.  Of course men won’t lose their rights.  That will never happen.  That’s why I thought it could be powerful.  This post is not meant to actually assert that men are evil and shouldn’t vote; it is simply a reframing of what seems to be rather random stripping of rights.  Birth control, for example, is suddenly up for debate again, and I think that is just as ridiculous as denying men the right to vote. 

 

Men should not have the right to vote.

  1. Because a man’s place is in the army.
  2. Because no really manly man wants to settle any question otherwise than by fighting about it.
  3. Because if men should adopt peaceable methods, women will no longer look up to them.
  4. Because men will lose their charm if they step out of their natural sphere and interest themselves in other matters than feats of arms, uniforms, and drums.
  5. Because men are too emotional to vote.  Their conduct at baseball games and political conventions shows this, while their innate tendency to appeal to force renders them particularly unfit for the task of government.

Men should have to register all emissions of a bodily nature. 

These emissions could have fertilized eggs, and are therefore alive.  Thus, any time a man commits murder by ejaculating somewhere besides a vagina, he should have to report the lost lives to the government.  If accidental, the man will simply be shamed and forced to live with the guilt.  If his emission is a purposeful (likely porn-inspired) event, he will be prosecuted for obstruction of life.  He will be forced to wear wooden undergarments for up to one year per emission.

Since birth control has suddenly become so controversial, it only seems right that we protect the rights of sperm denied the chance to swim into a cervix to burrow into a lady’s egg, and possibly create a possibly viable fetus.

Men should be punished for thinking the below things are “always lies.”

Sometimes women tell the truth.  Not all women are trying to get pregnant.  Some women don’t want kids, and a lot of women don’t want them for a long time.  For a lot women, the words, “I’m not mad,” mean that she is not mad.

Men should have to write essays of explanation to everyone they bang, and to everyone they know about they people they bang. 

As a woman, if I choose to sleep with anyone, I am opening myself up to all kinds of judgment.  There are so many political ties to my vagina, and I believe a man ought to have the same level of political tape to get through for banging someone.

P.S. – Sarcasm is a powerful tool we use against powerful tools.

Today Is a Real Bitch – Not a Funny, Cool, or Sexy Bitch – This Bitch Cold

Get out your tiny violins, and settle in for a bitch-fest about a real bitch.  That bitch’s name is Today.

First, there was the traffic.  Some bitch in a Mercedes freaked out because I was going 60 mph in a 60 mph zone… behind 45 cars also going 60 mph.  Thus, it was definitely my fault that all the cars on the road were too slow for her.  Thank you, bitch.  Thank you for giving me the finger and honking at me inexplicably.  Even when I changed lanes (to get the eff out of your bitchy way), you cut in behind me.  Thanks.  I can definitely control traffic and construction and everyone around me and the weather.  I am amazing.

Second, some bumbling ass threw or left a sharp piece of metal in the middle of the road.  It promptly popped my tire.  I aggressively removed it from the street whilst cursing the heavens beyond reason.  I tried to change my own tire… and failed.  I cut myself on a rock(?) or some other such thing.  I managed to only be 15 minutes late for work.  I was enraged.

Third, when I slowly meandered to Discount Tire (which is a wonderful place), the gents in the back informed me that the wheel bearing I fixed three months ago, then 10 days ago was still bad and all kinds of broken.  Yay!  More money for the money pit.

Fourth, I realized I forgot to take out the recycling… for all of my buildings…

Fifth, I stepped on glass.

Sixth, I’m out of spinach.  This is a crisis.

Seventh, I missed poetry club for my damn car and I didn’t even get it fixed tonight.

Eighth, there is construction on every side of me.  I am trapped.  I am robbed of quiet, space, time, and order.  It is always dusty.  It is always loud.  Roads close randomly and without warning.  To leave my home, I must turn right, go two blocks, then right, then two blocks, then some other random shit I can’t control… After that, I get to choose.  I choose rage.  So much rage.

There, now I have finished whining.  This is not our usual format, but I am not usually this angry for this long a period of time for personal reasons.

Today is a real bitch.  I will now go play the world’s smallest violin.

Once Again, How Is Chris Brown Still Successful?

Chris Brown is a terrible dude.  Disagree?  I’d love to know why.

Chris Brown beat up his girlfriend – Rihanna – a few years back and was convicted.  He does not deny what he did.  Yes, he feels remorseful (allegedly).  Obviously, he is a troubled young man.  I know that some people will consider this unsympathetic, mean, or rigid; I don’t care.  He beat the shit out of a woman.  He should not be successful in an industry so driven by image.  It makes no sense.  It makes me so damn mad.  Abuse is unforgivable.  We let him become an example.  We’re teaching American children that as long as they’re really good dancers and singers, they can hit women and still be accepted as a role model.  You can hit your girlfriend AND maintain a successful music career.

He should be far too shamed to be back on the radio or performing at the Grammy’s.  We should be shaming him.

Now, Ms. Miranda Lambert spoke her mind in February and I completely concur.  She started quite a twitter war with Mr. Brown with the following tweets:

She is being hyperbolic because she thinks it so ridiculous that Chris Brown was invited to perform.  “Gun Powder and Lead” is a song about a woman who plans to kill her husband after he beats her up.  I love that she’s being sassy and bold here.  She told her fans at a February concert: “I just have to speak my mind, because where I come from, beating up on a woman is never OK. So that’s why my daddy taught me early on in life how to use a shotgun.”

I don’t think she meant it literally, obviously.  Meeting violence with violence is not the best way to deal with it.  Her point in the song is to empower women, and to free them from a submissive role that traps them, represses them, and puts them in harm’s way.  Her point is that we, as a culture, should be outraged by Chris Brown’s success.

I am outraged by Chris Brown’s success.

This should not be allowed.  In his position as an entertainer, as a very successful entertainer, there are thousands of people who LOVE him.  Thousands of people who went on twitter and defended him.  Thousands of people who want to be like him.  Therein lies the problem.  When a person is rich, famous, beautiful, talented, and successful, that person will be idolized and emulated.  We should not encourage anyone to emulate an abuser.  Abuse is so scary, so traumatic, and so entirely vile.  The fact that Chris Brown has been forgiven and accepted into his “comeback” makes me sick.  I am offended.  I am horrified.

Victims of domestic abuse often blame themselves and make excuses.  They forgive their abuser and leave themselves in harm’s way.  Being a victim, being attacked by someone who claims to love you is incredibly complicated.  It is so hard for people to leave their abuser.  They love them.  They want to be with them.  They want to help them.  If it is already difficult for a woman to leave an abusive boyfriend or husband, imagine how much harder it is after this precedent is set.

If our culture forgives Chris Brown for beating the crap out of his girlfriend, aren’t we telling women everywhere to forgive their abusive boyfriends and husbands?  Aren’t we forgiving and excusing abuse?

What has also been very public about this incident is that Rihanna has forgiven Chris Brown.  In fact, the two collaborated on a recent song of hers called, “Birthday Cake.”  It is an incredibly dirty song.  It is so deeply disturbing to me.  Here is this woman, Rihanna, in this presumably very difficult situation, which is also a very public situation.  The man she loved hurt her – beat her up.  I can understand having issues with just cutting him off and letting go of the relationship.  It was meaningful for her, and then he suddenly showed he was a scary and dangerous man.  It is hard to imagine.  It is so hard to love someone and then suddenly have them attack you.  Her situation is unique because it is so public.  I am glad for her that she was able to move on and forgive him.  That is big.  That is healthy.  However, I find it to be very irresponsible, very dangerous for her as an example, as a role model, to then publicly accept him and work with him again.  Little girls want to be like her.  Does she want little girls to have that lesson, to believe that abuse is forgivable?

I don’t necessarily think it is fair to put this all on her.  After all, she is the victim.  I just strongly believe that if a person is in a position where thousands or millions of people are looking up to them and looking to them for an example, then that person has a greater responsibility.  That is probably not fair, but it comes with the territory.

I am genuinely frightened that our culture has forgiven Chris Brown.  Abuse is unforgivable.  How have we accepted him back to success?  This is so damn dangerous.

Wanna see Miranda Lambert SLAM Chris Brown for being a convicted felon?  Click Here!